#Fae Yoongi

[jemshopes]

Changeling || Namgi

--Namgi Changeling AU [human Namjoon, fae Yoongi]

How about human Namjoon, raised in the fae realm by a fae mother who claims to have rescued him from a terrible family shortly after his birth. It's a simple story, a caring one, a story of love, but when he turns twenty he discovers beneath a loose floorboard a box with a watercolour painting of a fae baby inside it. Tiny silken fae baby clothes, a silver ring with the baby's name engraved into it, a tenderly carved rattle. Yoongi, the ring reads. 12th september 1994 is written in pencil on the back of the painting. Namjoon's birthday. And he understands the truth without having to be told. He wasn't rescued, he was traded. A baby for a baby. A life for a life. His happiness for another's misery.

Getting out of the fae realm isn't easy. Not many desire to leave. But that night, Namjoon packs his things, takes the box and goes without looking back. He has fae friends who will help him get out. They know the paths, the hollows between trees. There's no guarantee he'll be able to come back, they caution him. He tells them he knows, but this isn't his place. This wasn't supposed to be his life. And he has to make it right and give the little fae baby back the life it was robbed of.

* * *

Yoongi's life hasn't been easy. His parents lived vicariously through him and no matter what he did, how many classes he aced, how many universities offered him an opportunity to attend, how much money he made, how many times he smiled, it was never enough for them. He was never grateful enough. He was never this, he was never that. He would never become anything with that attitude. Why was he crying? Get up for heaven's sake and act like a man.

He moved out when he was eighteen, got himself a place to live, a job. Okay, the job sucked and the customers were assholes, but Yoongi's coworkers were good people. Jimin was always there to tell a customer to stuff it if they were being rude to Yoongi. But there were always days when Jimin wasn't there, and Yoongi left work on the verge of tears, shaking, rushing to the bench in the park that was far removed from the public footpath.

He'd thought no one knew about it but him. He hadn't spotted anyone come even remotely near it in all the time he'd been coming here, but today, in the pouring, freezing rain, there sat a man with a wooden box on his knees.

He smiled when he saw Yoongi, recognition filling his face. a dimple appeared in his cheek. "Hey." 

Yoongi stood still, the leaves of the trees overhead shielding him from the worst of the downpour. "D-do I know you?"

The man shook his head, glanced uneasily at the box. "No. No. But you're Yoongi, aren't you?"

Yoongi's skin prickled. "Yeah. How do you know me?"

Silently the man gestured for Yoongi to sit beside him. "It's a long story."

[colormepurplex2]

Flowers of Fate | Lavender & Thyme

↳ UnseeliePrince!Yoongi x Human!f.Reader (ft. x UnseelieGuard!Jungkook x SeeliePrince!Jimin x WoodNymph!Namjoon) ⤜ Strangers to Bonded Mates ⤜ Rating: MA 🔞 ⤜ WC: 20,683 ⚠️ Adult humor, crass language, talk of murdered loved ones, angst, hurt feelings, vaginal sex, cum eating, body exploration, awkward yet endearingly cute sexual moments, jealousy, blood, stab wounds Next Chapter⇾ ⇽Previous Chapter ◅ Back to series masterlist

The man looming over you narrows his eyes before he flicks them up to JK, who looks smug behind you. “They are supposed to be willing. This does not look willing to me. The bitter stink of her fear is burning my nose.” His nose wrinkles as if to accentuate his observation. “Can you not smell it? And…is that,” he sniffs the air, “the loch I also smell? What the hell happened?”

JK shifts his feet and clears his throat. “She may have had a slight incident going through the gateway. And, of course I can smell the fear. But what would you have had me do differently? She was unprotected, the first we’ve encountered in nearly a decade. I did what I had to.”

That makes the man’s eyebrows rise, and his eyes fall back down to you. “Unprotected? Is that so?”

“More or less,” JK mumbles.

“And that means?” The question comes from a man that steps around the side of the one in front of you. “That sounds a lot like loophole shenanigans to me.” He is pretty, with sandy brown hair, warm brown eyes, and ears pointed similarly to the man now glaring down at you. 

“Well, Joon, it means when I first arrived at the gathering, not a soul was without protection. Then, suddenly, she lit up like a dry stick of tinder, and I did the only thing I could think to do…I took her.” His placating shifts from the man he called Joon back to the one standing before you. “We’re losing time, Yoons. We can’t keep waiting around as we have been with our thumbs up our asses. This was the break we needed, don’t sneer at me over something I’ve done for you.”

The man clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “Seven Hells. I hate that you are right.” Suddenly he’s in your face, crouched down with an elbow resting on a knee. He tilts his head slowly from side to side, those faceted green eyes roving over your face. “What is your name?” he finally asks, a long, slender finger lightly tapping your chin.

You jerk back, appalled. “Oh, fuck you, man! I’m not giving you my name! I’m not stupid. I just want to go home.”

“You’re stupid enough to get snatched up by a Fey,” JK snarks softly.

The man standing behind Yoons slaps a hand over his mouth to stifle a laugh. “Do be fair, JK. It is not like the poor girl really knew what was happening. It seems she may have become a victim of vandalism,” he muses, the words slightly muffled behind his hand. He steps forward and fingers a yellow petal from your wet hair. “Honey bell petals.”

JK snatches the petal from the man’s fingers. “Fuck,” he curses. “I saw the damaged crown, but I didn’t see any honey bells. Well, she was unprotected when I approached her. That’s what matters, right?”

“Mmm, technicalities,” Yoons scoffs, swatting JK’s hand, making the petal flutter down and land in your lap.

You pick up the tiny, crumpled, yellow petal. “This is why I’m here? Because my God damn flower crown got destroyed?” you ask, incredulously. The petal turns a dark ocher color as you roll and mash it between your fingers in anger. “Monica, you fucking drunk asshole with your flailing hands.”

“JK does have a point, though, Yoons. You are running out of time, and beggars cannot really be choosers. Sure, she is maybe not…ideal, but she will provide you with what you need.” For some reason, your hackles rise at the idea that you’re apparently not ideal for whatever it is they seemingly need you for.  

Yoons straightens and brushes his hands along the front of his shirt as if absently ridding himself of the slight touch he exchanged with you. “Yes, so it may seem. Well—,“ he glances at JK before continuing, “—Beautiful, it seems that either way you look at it, you are stuck here for the time being, and I do, indeed, have need of a human mate. Perhaps, we can come to some sort of…uh, agreement?”

All the warnings your grandpa ever gave you about making deals with the fae come crashing down on you all at once. “An agreement? You want me to make a deal with you, a supposed fae? Do I have ‘fool’ written on my forehead or something? Absolutely not!”

You scramble to your feet, backing up and putting as much distance as you can between you and the formidable forms standing around you. It’s a shorter gap than you’d like as your back bumps into the now-shut wooden door JK hauled you through. A cursory glance around shows a small open space serving as a kitchen, dining area, and living space. There are two doorways on the backside of the space, the doors slightly ajar, but the rooms beyond are too dark to discern.

“If you could just listen to my proposal, you may find yourself a bit more amicable to agreeing,” Yoons explains softly, gesturing behind him to the wooden dining table with benches to either side. “Please, sit and let me explain as much as I can. If you do not like what I have to say, then you will be free to walk back out that door, and we will not follow—”

“Yoon—!”

Yoons holds up a hand, silencing whatever protest JK is about to spew. “You have my word,” he says to you, slowly and deliberately. His eyes are wide and sincere, even though they’re still quite jarring to look at. They glimmer in the light emanating from the few wall sconces and the fire humming in the hearth across the room, the green shifting to soft gold and back again.

“The fae can’t lie, right?”

Yoons’ lips twitch, the corner tugging up into a slight smile. “Right.”

You sigh. “Even if you could lie, you probably wouldn’t admit it. God, maybe I really am a fool. Okay, okay, I’ll hear you out, but just so you know, I’m about two-point-five seconds away from just running out that door and never looking back.”

“Right back to the kelpies,” JK mutters. You catch Yoons giving him a stern look that makes him drop his eyes to the floor and take up a guarded position by the door, his hands behind his back and his feet shoulder-width apart.

“Despite his seemingly irresistible need to be so harsh with his words, JK does present another point to consider. Outside of this home and the clearing it sits in, you would be at the mercy of the creatures and beings of the Hollow Lands. Though we are closer to the Seelie Court, perhaps if you choose the right direction to run in…” he trails off, rolling his lips between his teeth. You can see how his prominent canines stretch the fullness of his upper lip.

The other man, Joon, gives you a gentile smile and gestures to one of the benches. “Please, have a seat. Oh! You must be freezing,” he titters, moving across to a large woven basket beside the fireplace. “Here.” He grabs out a large, thick woolen blanket and promptly drapes it over your shoulders. “If you decide to stay here, I am sure I can rustle up some garments that will fit you while yours dry properly.”

“Thank you, my friend,” Yoons places a hand on Joon’s arm as he passes by, heading toward the sink in the kitchen area. “My thoughts are scattered. I am grateful for your courtesy.” Those flickering green eyes shift to you, and you can see Yoons’ shoulders sag a little as he sighs. “Apologies, truly. I am normally not so…lacking in hospitality.”

Yoons takes a deep breath and settles on the bench across the table from you. The wood is smooth, dark with age, and worn from use. A steaming pot of what smells like lavender and thyme tea and empty teacups are set on the table between you by Joon. “Lemon sugar and sweet honeysuckle cream if you want it,” he says softly, placing small lidded ramekins and a tiny wooden spoon beside the pot.

You eye the steaming pot of tea, tempted but shake your head, keeping your hands fisting into the soft woolen fabric of the blanket instead. “If you are worried about accepting food from a Fey, thinking it will leave you ensorcelled or trapped here forever, you need not worry about that with Joon. He is not a Greater Fey. He does not possess the ability to entrap a human with his food or drink,” Yoons explains, helping himself to a cup of steaming tea. The fragrant brew is a light plum color, deepening as he adds a spoonful of lemon sugar. “For the sake of transparency, JK is not a Greater Fey either.”

“And you?” you ask when he doesn’t offer up that knowledge as well.

Yoons blows gently over the lip of his cup before taking a slow sip. The silence stretches, broken only by the occasional pop of a log in the fireplace and the soft sound of Joon now kneading dough on the kitchen counter. “I…am,” he finally says, setting his cup back down and cupping his hands around it as if seeking its added warmth.

“What does that mean exactly?” you ask, tentatively, eyeing the steaming pot of tea again. Your throat is dry, and you are awfully cold, even with the wool blanket and heat coming from the fire. Can you trust his word?

Yoons shift uncomfortably on the bench, his eyes staring into yours as you assume he thinks of how to respond. Instead, though, Joon comments, glancing at you from over his shoulder. “He is right. I am a simple woodland nymph. I barely have the magick needed to encourage my garden to grow and protect my home, much less entrap a human here in the Fey Realm. JK is but a simple Seelie guard. His prowess is more related to the thickness of his muscles than the ability of his glamor.”

JK scoffs from his position by the door. “Yes, let’s tell the human everything.”

“Half-truths are not the way to receive her trust. You, better than anyone, should realize that after the foot you have started her off on,” Yoons admonishes JK, waving a stern but dismissive hand in the air.

“Can you not talk about me like I’m not here?” you grumble, cutting your glance between Yoons and JK.

Yoons’ lips press firmly together before he gives you a slight nod. “Right, apologies again. It has been some time since we have had company other than those who know about this glade.”

“Let’s just get on with whatever this proposal is so I can decide whether or not I’m actually going fucking mental.” You finally relent and reach out to pour yourself a cup of tea, if only to have something to hold for extra warmth.

The lavender and thyme scent is comforting, reminding you of your grandpa. The heat and warmth suffusing through the porcelain cup seep into your hands, helping pull back a fraction of the chill from your tumble into the loch.

“I will try to speak as plainly as possible,” Yoons begins. “However, there are things that you still may not understand. For starters, it may be hard to believe, but you are indeed in the Hollow Lands, the expanse of land that sits between the Seelie and Unseelie courts. We are outside of your realm. JK brought you through…a portal of sorts—one that we have been using for centuries when the veil between our worlds is thin enough. You see, the myths and stories you may have heard all have at least a little truth about them. Do faeries kidnap humans? In a way, perhaps. Though, there are safeguards that humans have been using for just as long to make their desire and status known to the Fey. The honey bell flower is a ward, protecting any and all who wear a circle of it against the glamor of a Fey. Anyone not wearing a circlet of the honey bell is seen to be willing.”

“That doesn’t seem to make much of a difference, though, now does it?” you question.

Yoons sucks a breath between his teeth. “It does, but this seems like a very unusual situation we have all found ourselves in. You see, JK is sworn to me as a protector. He was acting on my behalf, trying to find the key I need in order to stop something bad from happening to my people.”

“That’s not cryptic at all,” you say, laying the sarcasm on as thick as you can. “I thought you were going to speak plainly?” You wet your lips with your tongue, so tempted to take just a tiny sip of the tea.

There is a momentary pause as Yoons takes another sip of his own tea. “I think this might be your best brew yet, Joon,” he murmurs softly. “Plain. Okay. I have been banished from the Unseelie Court. If I do not find a human mate before the next full moon, I will be permanently banned from crossing into the border of my home…locking away all of my people and my family in endless darkness with the one responsible for the turmoil that has befallen my court.”

“Why have you been banished? Banishment usually means you had to have done something to earn it. People don’t just get banished for no reason.” The last thing you want is to be fooled into thinking you are helping the good guy, only to find out later that he’s really the bad one.

Yoons shifts, again looking mildly uncomfortable by your question, which makes you glad you asked it. “It is believed that I killed my father and my brother.”

A chill slithers down the nape of your neck with that admission. “It is believed—believed but not true?”

“I would sooner take my own life than that of my kin. I loved my father dearly for what he did for our people; my brother was my best friend. I did not want nor seek their deaths.”

“What’s so important about the next full moon? Why is that significant?” Every piece of the puzzle he provides will help your decision-making. You just have to be sure to ask the right questions.

Tapping his fingers lightly against the outside of his cup, Yoons explains, “The longer a Fey is away from their origin of magick—for me, that would be the Unseelie Court Moon Stone—the less connected we are to it. It has been nearly a decade since I last was within the borders of my home, since I last felt the cooling mist of the lunar winds on my face. I can already feel how significantly depleted my magick is, how much weaker I grow by the day. If I do not secure a way to access the inner well of my power before the end of my tenth year away, I will lose touch with it completely. So, having a human mate is not only crucial to me being strong enough to defeat the one that started everything, but it also means I’ll retain my ability to touch magick at all.”

“What does a human mate have to do with any of that? How can that help? Couldn’t you bond with anyone?” You’d be lying if you said you weren’t at least somewhat intrigued now—if this is indeed the truth. The idea that you’re on a different plane of existence seems to be unquestionable at this point. How you’re not completely coming apart at the mental seams is beyond your understanding. There is a small glimmer inside, though, that you recognize as the same feeling you once got listening to your grandpa’s stories.

Yoons spreads his hands out in front of himself in a placating manner. “Everything. The reason there are tales of Fey taking humans is that they have taken willing participants as mates because humans can open the inner well of a Fey, unleashing their full potential of magick.”

“So, I woul— I mean, a human would allow you to access a secret well of power that’s just supposed to magically…what? Make the bad guy go away?” You hope they don’t read too much into your slip-up of words. It’s not like you’re actually considering his offer…whatever it is, as he still hasn’t truly laid that out yet.

He’s nodding before you finish asking. “Humans are like a conduit, an open channel for magick. They can amplify the strength of existing Fey magick and allow more to be harnessed safely. Having a human mate is the only way I can access enough of my power to save my people.”

“And you haven’t had any luck finding a human mate so far, so you send your muscle bunny over there to kidnap one for you?”

JK steps forward, intent to protest, but Yoons holds up a hand, silencing him. “Look, I know you did not come here of your own free will, and for that, I will forever apologize. But, I would be remiss to say I am not also grateful that you are here. Once, it may have been easy for my kind to come into your world and find someone willing. But, over time, the stories have changed how humans react and perceive our kind. In your stories, we are monsters, tricksters, and sly thieves. That is just a warped perception based on exaggerated presumptions. All I want is someone to help me save my people.”

“Say I do agree, then what? What will happen to me?” The tea in your cup ripples as you clench your hands around it in agitation. “You say I’m trapped here regardless. What happens if I say no? What madness awaits me out there?” You nod toward the door behind JK.

Joon turns from placing his dough into a deep pan, dusting his hands off on a blush-colored towel. “If I may?” Yoons gives him a slight nod. “Beyond my glade, await things that are far worse than being a mate to a Greater Fey. My magick is a ward, tethered to the soil where I plant my seeds. If you agree to stay and help Yoons, there is a chance you could see your world again…but if you leave here, that chance diminishes greatly. You would be lucky to make it to the Seelie Court, but even then, you would most likely end up as a captive rotting away the rest of your existence in the dungeons. The Fey take great care in choosing the outsiders they allow to walk freely within their courts. They would spend your entire human lifetime discussing what to do with you. Your bones would molder in the dark before they made up their minds.”

“I really am stuck here.” The resignation in your voice is apparent.

You see the moment Yoons thinks to reach across the table and console you. His hand lifts from where it’s resting on the wood, but he drops it back down and clenches his fingers instead. “Unfortunately, yes. At least, for the next six months or so, until the veil thins again and a gateway is accessible. As to what will happen to you if you agree to help me, well, you will become my mate. It is similar to what your kind calls marriage. There is a ceremony where we are bound and then a…um, consummation to solidify the link to my magick.”

Ignoring that blatant statement of having to have sex with this man, you ask another question, “Tell me more about your home and what’s going on with this supposed bad guy?”

Yoons’ face closes down, and he straightens his shoulders, hands dropping into his lap. “The male who murdered my father and brother, and holds my mother captive is using dark magick in order to steal and manipulate his way through my court. He has bewitched the whole of the Unseelie Court and uses his connection to the Seelie Court as a ruse. His ultimate goal is to see the end of my people and the absolute rule of Seelie. He thinks we are no better than a people to be enslaved, fodder for his kind to use as building blocks so they may reign supreme over all of this realm and the beings within it.”

“Do the Seelie support this? Why aren’t they doing something about it if they’re not in agreement? Are you fighting one man or an entire people? You make it seem like an impossible task.” You can’t help that some part of you feels sympathy for this man—faerie, whatever he is—despite your indignation over his methods of finding a solution.

JK harrumphs softly from the door. “It’s only impossible if you say no. The Seelie are just as much victims of this maddening farce as we are. The entirety of our realm, our world as we know it, is on the line and you can be the force to tip us one way or another. Look,” he sighs, taking a few steps forward from the door to stand beside the table, “I’ll be honest. It’s my fault you’re here. I didn’t realize you actually had a circle of honey bells on at some point. But, even if I had…I can’t say for certain I wouldn’t have still tried to bring you back with you being unprotected. Over the last decade, I have gone through the Carterhaugh gateway every chance I could. I have walked among the festivities, danced around the May-poles with oblivious humans, tried to ask for help, created friendships, anything I could think of that might allow me to do my job, but every time, it’s been the same. No one cares; no one believes me. They chalk it up to too much whisky or too many hours listening to childish fairy tales. It wasn’t until you that there was ever even a glimmer of hope for us.”

“Peace, JK,” Yoons murmurs. “It is the truth—The Seelie are victims in this. You see, the Fey responsible for all of this first came to the Unseelie Court as a liaison from the Seelie. It is no secret that though we are of the same people, we have conflicted against one another since the dawn of our time, at least until some fifty years ago. The Unseelie and Seelie Kings had enough. They were tired of seeing their people suffer. They came together to spark a truce. All conflict ceased, and trade began—bringing near-instant fruitfulness for both sides. The Hollow Lands remained neutral ground where markets were held at the beginning of each new moon phase, and things were going wonderfully. Then Chaddick, the Seelie Queen’s brother by marriage, came to the Unseelie Court to continue with the politics, and it has been darkness and decline ever since, beginning with his murder of the Unseelie King.”

“And you’re the only one that can save your people? Why you? Why your family? What exactly happened?” The more you learn, the harder it becomes to find a reason not to agree to help. It’s not like you have many other options. Perhaps if you decide to help, you can barter for your own help in return.

“As Greater Fey, we posed the biggest threat to thwarting his plans. I escaped, but only barely. I am the only remaining Greater Fey of the Unseelie Court who knows the truth and has the ability to do something about it. I represent the only hope there is.”

Silence settles between you and Yoons, his last words sinking in with a finality. You glance down at the cup nestled between your palms. As if without your permission, you bring it up and slowly press it to your lips. The slightly bitter and floral scent fills your lungs before sliding over your bottom lip and coating your tongue. It’s the tiniest sip, barely enough to wet your throat, but already you feel better—calmer. There is no apparent mindlessness, you’re not consumed with the desire to obey, and something inside you tells you that you know you could still leave if you wanted to.

“If I agree to help you—to become your mate…I want you to promise me that you’ll take me to a gateway and allow me to leave at the very next Samhain, unharmed, and with no strings attached.” The cup rattles gently against the tabletop as your trembling hands place it back down. “This is the only way I will agree to help you.” The words you choose are careful, constructed, and spoken in a way that is plain and concise, with no room for misinterpretation or fae foolery. “There will be absolutely no tricks, deceptions, or wayward attempts from you to keep me here. I want a guarantee that you will do all in your power to ensure I get back to my world in as much the same condition at which I left it as you can manage.”

Yoons studies you for a moment, his eyes unreadable as they flicker over your features. “I will agree to this…with one variable if you will. If I am able to free my people and see to it that Chaddick is no longer a threat, I will personally escort you to the Carterhaugh gateway come next Samhain and will allow you to leave with no further obligations. I, however, can not guarantee there will be no strings attached, per se. You see, becoming my mate would mean we are mated for all of our respective lifetimes. Being the mate to a Greater Fey, even living in your mortal realm, will mean you will still see the effects of our bond. Your life will become irrevocably longer. You will experience greater strength and stamina; you will, for all intents and purposes, be Fey yourself. Know that there is always a danger in being one of our kind living in your world. Even across the distance of parallel realms, we would still be aware of each other…the mate bond is an intimate one.”

Joon clears his throat before giving you a gentle smile. “I do know of a way to create an herbal suppressant, though. It will not completely blanket the bond, but it would ease the ache of separation. I could show you how to make it. Thankfully, all the herbs and spices you would need grow in your world, too.”

“The ache of separation?” you question, cocking an eyebrow at Yoons.

“As I said, I can not guarantee no strings. After many years apart, bonded mates may feel…ah, well, something akin to discomfort of the soul. A sadness that no amount of sun or sweets can remedy.” Yoons straights again in his seat, quickly bringing up his teacup to take another sip. “It is something I am willing to endure for the safety of my people. No pain could possibly compare to the pain I know in my heart currently.” His green eyes flash, hatred and malice darkening his features before he swipes his free hand over his face and sighs. “It has been a long day, longer for you, I am sure. If you would, Na—ahem, Joon, see to it that our guest has dry clothing and a place to rest. You may have an hour to rest and think about my offer.”

Pushing up from the table, Yoons places his cup back down and makes his way to the door you came in through. JK beats him to it, wrenching the knob and yanking it open. Yoons walks through the open door, JK disappearing behind it. The door thumps closed, sealing the interior of the small cottage in silence once more.

“Come, my dear, let’s get you more comfortable.” Joon gestures toward one of the doorways at the back of the room.

🌸🌸🌸

Yoongi

“This is a terrible idea. I swear, if you had wings…I. Would. Clip. Them,” Yoongi seethes, rounding on Jungkook, punctuating the last few words with sharp jabs to the center of his chest.

Jungkook swats Yoongi’s hand away, baring his teeth in turn. “The only terrible idea is you agreeing to let her return to her world in the end! You know the consequences of that. Are you really willing to accept an eternity of crippling pain for her?”

Yoongi sighs, turning away from Jungkook. His eyes fix on the large, green leaves of Namjoon’s seeded oak that are closer to the ground than they were yesterday, faintly twisting in the hazy breeze wafting from the west—the direction of the Seelie Court. The air holds a floral scent, one that Yoongi knows fondly.

“I do not think I have much of a choice, my friend,” he finally admits, resigned. “We need this to work. You have said so yourself that we are running out of time. The next full moon is just a few days away. If I cannot access the rest of my power by then, all will be lost, and you and I will never see the stars of the Unseelie Court again. It is a thought I can barely bring myself to contemplate. My mother…” Yoongi doesn’t have to finish his sentence. Jungkook knows exactly what would become of Yoongi’s mother—the woman that is just as much a mother to Jungkook—if all of this fails.

Jungkook closes the distance between himself and Yoongi. He hesitates, warring internally on whether or not he will be crossing a line, but finally places a hand on Yoongi’s shoulder. Yoongi instantly tenses, making Jungkook flinch, but he keeps his hand where it is. “You know I would do anything for you. If there were even the slightest possibility that we could do this any other way, I’d dump her back in the loch myself in a heartbeat. Just know this, Yoongi, you have agreed to see that she returns to her world if she so wishes…but I have made no such promise.” Letting his hand slip from Yoongi’s shoulder, he huffs in irritation and disappears into Namjoon’s garden beyond the seeded oak. “I’ll gather some food for dinner.”

Yoongi watches Jungkook until he’s lost among the foliage. He knows agreeing to your terms was foolish. He just wasn’t sure what else he could have done to help convince you to agree. It took everything in Yoongi not to lunge across the table, grapple you to the floor, and use his magick to force you into submission. It would have been easy, a simple feat in just a matter of moments. But it would have been too risky.

There isn’t much known to him, personally, about the bond between a Fey and a human other than what his mother told him during his childhood. What he told you was mostly true, with perhaps a few omissions. It is true that the Fey took willing humans for their mated bonds, but that is such an archaic practice that Yoongi has never actually known a mated human-Fey pair. In all his years, it has only ever been Fey mated with Fey. It has been a very long time since a Fey needed access to their full power.

From what he knows, a mated bond can only work to its fullest potential with a willing human. Forcing a human into a mated bond has been known to have the opposite effect than desired. A Fey that takes an unwilling human will be tainted by the bond, their magick forever infused with darkness and pain. At least, that’s what the stories say. Yoongi entertained the idea in the beginning when he first escaped from Chaddick. Jungkook even captured a human man, hauling him back through the gateway just to have to take him back after Yoongi couldn’t bring himself to bond the man against his will. It’s been a very precarious line to walk ever since.

“A damned fool,” Yoongi whispers to himself before following Jungkook into the garden. He knows there is no use in arguing with Jungkook over his last declaration, so he will just have to tread carefully and hope you don’t catch wind of that revelation.

Namjoon’s garden is something of pride and bounty. Glowing, magick-infused spheres dot the meandering paths between beds of vegetables and fruits. Vines slither along runners of trellis, and branches ladened with juicy fruits dangle within easy reach at the end of each path. Everything in the garden, except for a few vegetables and herbs, is mortal. Just another precaution that Namjoon personally undertook to help Yoongi in this quest. Without the help of Jungkook and Namjoon, Yoongi knows he would never have had a chance.

“Do you think we should have asked if she has any allergies?” Jungkook muses as he digs up a cluster of red potatoes. “Maybe she only eats meat. I did find her by the grill pits. I have a few snares in the western glen that I can check.” He rattles off the different locations and how he’s learned the best runs to set up traps on, and how they change with the seasons.

Yoongi can’t help but smile as he listens to Jungkook. The youthful swagger left Jungkook’s step around the same time the roundness of his face did—when they escaped the Unseelie Court nearly a decade ago. Yoongi wonders if Jungkook mourns the playful nature that once possessed the guard as he does. Despite Yoongi’s status as a Greater Fey and Jungkook’s lack of, growing up together solidified their bond. The day Jungkook got down on his knees and swore himself in service of Yoongi only helped to strengthen it.

It’s on the tip of Yoongi’s tongue to talk about you, to muse along with Jungkook about what you do and don’t like. But, he holds back, choosing a different thought to voice aloud, lest he somehow gives himself some odd sense of false hope by letting you linger too long in his conscious thoughts. “I think Namjoon, at least, would appreciate some meat to add to the stew.” Yoongi moves to grab one of the harvest baskets Namjoon keeps in the garden, depositing the vegetables and fruits he chose. “I will take these inside and help Namjoon begin dinner if you want to check your snares.”

“Sure,” Jungkook agrees, depositing his own armful of goods into the basket. “I shouldn’t be too long.”

Yoongi makes his way out of the garden, parting ways with Jungkook at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the porch. Pausing at the top of the stairs, Yoongi takes a moment to look east, toward the Unseelie Court. For all the years he’s been in hiding, the constant drive to return home hasn’t lessened in the slightest. He can feel the longing deep in his heart and soul, his magick calling out to be within the barrier of his home. Perhaps, he’ll be returning there sooner than he imagined. Hopefully.

He hefts the basket onto his hip, freeing one of his hands to open the door. It swings open slowly, revealing Namjoon tending to a boiling pot over the fire. The welcoming smell of baking bread fills the small space.

“Where is she?” he immediately asks when he realizes you’re nowhere to be seen. 

Namjoon smirks, his warm brown eyes twinkling in the light from the fire. “I offered her the courtesy of a warm bath. You are welcome to go in and check on her if you would like.” He nods toward the second door across the room, now firmly shut—a tiny sliver of light peeks from under it.

Yoongi scoffs. “You have a poor sense of humor.”

“Do not worry. I did not let your precious human mate escape. As much as I am of the middle ground, our friendship means more to me than neutrality,” Namjoon comments quietly. “After all, I have been harboring a pair of wanted Fey for nearly a decade now.”

It’s not a jab by any means; Yoongi knows that, but those words add a slight ache to the crushing weight already on his shoulders. Just a reminder of how important this all is. Yoongi and Jungkook aren’t the only ones that would be facing irrevocable consequences should this not succeed. Even though Namjoon has been able to hide Yoongi and Jungkook behind the ward of his magick here in the clearing, Namjoon’s magick has slowly been depleting. With each passing year, the ward weakens. The drooping branches of Namjoon’s seeded oak are proof enough of that. Whereas the tree once stood tall, proud, with limbs extended high into the air—they’re now far closer to the ground than the clouds, a very alarming reality.

Before he can reply to Namjoon, a thump followed by a muffled yelp has him dropping the harvest basket—sending fruit and vegetables scattering across the floor—and racing to the closed door. It swings open, the hinges squealing in protest of the force at which Yoongi opens it. “Are you okay?!” Yoongi exclaims, eyes wide on your naked form, bent over to retrieve the towel puddled on the floor by the sink.

“What the—close the fucking door!” you yell, snatching up the towel and trying to cover yourself.

Your words barely register before Yoongi lets out his own yell and scrambles to close the door. “Sorry! Sorry!” he yells through the now-closed door. “I heard you scream! Seven Hells consume me. I am so sorry! Are you okay?”

Your voice grows louder as you walk closer to the door. “I’m fine,” is your breathy reply. Yoongi can hear the barely concealed laughter in your words. “I missed the last step getting out of the bath and caught myself on the sink. The only thing wounded is my pride at this point.”

Yoongi jerks away from the door when he feels you opening it. He tries to look anywhere but at you when it slowly opens, revealing you now with the towel tucked under your arms. His traitorous eyes lock onto a water drop that slips down your neck and traces the curved mound of your breast before being absorbed by the towel. He clears his throat, taking another step back and forcing his eyes to the floor. “I—uh, that was—I am terribly sorry. I should have knocked or…”

You do laugh now. It’s a pretty sound, one that has Yoongi’s eyes flickering back up to take in the slight smile now curling your lips. You take a deep breath. Yoongi is proud of himself for refraining from watching the rise and fall of your towel when you do so. “Well, I guess that will help with the awkwardness of seeing me naked before we have to…you know.”

A choking sound echoes from across the room, Namjoon trying to suppress his own laughter. Yoongi’s brows bunch together as he frantically tries deciphering some hidden meaning behind your words. Because, surely, you don’t mean what he thinks you do. “Is that your way of saying yes?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper as he fights the need to heave air into his lungs for fear of breathing too loud and not hearing your response.

“Not how I intended to say it, but yeah…umm,” you pause, shifting awkwardly on your feet, wet your lips, and try again. “I mean—yes, it’s a yes. I’ll help you if you promise to help me return at the next Samhain.”

Yoongi can’t believe what he's hearing. He was sure he’d have to barter and spend several more hours trying to convince you, despite his earlier words of only giving you an hour to decide.

“Yes, yes, okay. Agreed.” Yoongi hesitates, wondering if he should let you get dressed. But decides he doesn’t want to give you any more time to possibly talk yourself out of the agreement. He steps toward you quickly, extending his right hand. “You have my word, I swear it. For your agreement to be my mate, I will do everything in my power to see to it that you return home at the next Samhain if that is your wish.”

Yoongi watches a myriad of emotions play out on your face as you stare at his long and slender fingers hanging in the air between you. He can see the moment you mentally leap over whatever last hurdle there was. You take a soft breath–that Yoongi allows himself to watch swell your chest this time–and slide your hand into his.

“It’s a dea—“ a loud yell outside the front door cuts off your words. Yoongi’s fingers tighten around yours, and he lets a trickle of his magick leech into you, cementing the agreement.

The smell of jasmine and chamomile floods the room as the front door is slammed open. That combined fragrance makes his heart ache, but not nearly as much as the look on the face of the figure now standing in the open doorway. He was so caught up in the moment that he hadn’t realized the scent in the air around the cabin had changed.

In strides a striking figure, regaling in beautiful blush-colored robes with silver accents. Jungkook follows quickly behind, a string of fuzzy hares tethered to his belt. “If you would just listen to me!” He stops in his tracks, eyes flicking from the newcomer to where you and Yoongi are standing across the room, hands still clasped together. “Ah, Seven Hells…you did it, didn’t you?”

Yoongi opens his mouth, intent to address the room, but a sharp hand is slashed in the air, cutting off anything he could possibly say in his own defense. “Sixty years,” whispers a voice Yoongi knows intimately. He is beautiful as always with his dark brown hair, the silky strands shifting to reveal his ears' soft, pointed tips. His plush lips help conceal the points of his canines, but as he speaks, they peek out. “Sixty years gone in an instant. I knew this day was coming. I knew it needed to come for the world to be right again…but I thought you would at least afford me the decency of allowing me to be here to help, to witness, to ensure you did not bind yourself to someone unworthy of the status of the bonded mate of a Fey Prince!” By the time he’s finished speaking, his voice has risen to a booming volume that fills the entire space.

“Mini.” Yoongi winces as Jimin sneers at his nickname—the name Yoongi has moaned into his ear many times over the last sixty years.

“Wait—a Prince? You’re a fae Prince! Oh, for fucks sake, what else are you keeping from me?!”

Tightening his grip around your hand, Yoongi prevents you from snatching your hand away in anger. He groans, tasting the sudden sour flare of betrayal coming from you. “Fuck.”

🌸🌸🌸

Yoons and the stranger, who you heard him call Mini, disappear out the door quickly after it’s revealed that Yoons is actually a fae Prince. He gave you a guarded look, dropped your hand, and stormed out the door with Mini hot on his heels. JK shut the door and has been standing with his back to it like a guarding sentinel ever since.

That was hours ago now, you’re sure. It’s hard to tell, considering what Joon explained about the passage of time in the fae realm. When he ushered you back into the lone bedroom, where he had clothes waiting for you laid out on the bed, you asked how long you had been there. He shrugged, explaining that time passes as it needs to based on the power demand of the sun and moon, but if he could guess, it would be nearing midday back in your world now, leaving you to balk at that realization as you got dressed.

Now, you sit cross-legged on an overstuffed pillow on the floor, elbow on your knee, and chin resting in your palm. You watch the fire crackle in the hearth. The stew Joon made with the vegetables and hares brought in earlier sits heavy in your belly. It was tasteless on your tongue, the flavors lost to your senses as you tried to come to terms with your situation.

You cringe at a loud curse from outside. It’s been a near-constant yelling match since the front door closed. The voices are muffled enough that you can’t make out every word, but it seems Yoons and Mini enjoy punctuating their sentences with very loud profanities.

Joon sighs from his spot in a rocking chair on the other side of the fire. He has a block of alder situated in his lap, shearing off small fluffs of wood with a tiny whittling knife. “I think this is the longest lover's quarrel they have ever had,” he murmurs, almost as if to himself.

“Lovers quarrel?” you question, glancing away from the fire and toward Joon.

“Oh,” Joon laughs awkwardly. “I did not realize I said that so loud. I—uh, well, I suppose you will find out eventually. They,” he nods toward the door, “have been together most of their lives.”

That’s an interesting revelation. “Cool. So, I get to be the Jolene in this situation,” you scoff. “Typical. Apparently, fae males are just as bad as human ones. They can’t be honest and think it’s okay to have multiple lovers just because you didn’t specifically tell him you wanted to be exclusive. You’d think that would be a given, right? But also, shouldn’t transparency come from the person who wants to do the hustling? Fuck me, I guess, for assuming men have the emotional maturity to navigate a relationship or, heaven forbid, know how to communicate beyond the twitch in their pants…” You let your words trail off, realizing you just let them vomit out in frustration.

“Well, I am not sure who or what Jolene is, but I know Yoons has had nothing but good intentions for this whole situation. Things have moved a lot faster than any of us could have anticipated. It is not like he was intentionally keeping Mini from you, nor you from Mini. They both know good and well that this is far more important than whatever feelings they have for one another. Fate is a cruel master that we are all at the mercy of.” Joon's speaking is oddly comforting, even if it is pretty blunt. He reminds you of your grandpa in many ways, seemingly knowing what needs to be said and when.

You may not understand the situation to the degree that they do, but you can still relate to and sympathize with their desperation. There was a point where you wanted something so badly you would and did do anything to obtain it. Granted, a sterling silver and amethyst engagement ring doesn’t quite equate to the lives of an entire people, but you still know what it feels like to fight tooth and nail for something you wholeheartedly want. It’s part of why you were so adamant about Monica enjoying herself with Malcolm and trying not to put so much expectation and demand into the situation. You’ve learned that life and its opportunities are fickle at best, so it’s inherently important to grab onto them while you can.

As opportunities go, despite Yoons apparent inability to not be the stereotypical fae you heard about in your grandpa’s stories, you know you don’t have many right now. Your best one is still to keep to the bargain you’ve agreed to. The faster you help Yoons, the quicker you can leave. Though, you reckon maybe you won’t be able to go all that fast. From your recollection, JK said Samhain wasn’t for another six moons.

“Joon, what happens once things are back to normal around here? Do I just stay here with you until Samhain?” you ask.

The corners of his warm brown eyes crinkle as he smiles at you. “You are more than welcome to stay here, but I imagine Yoons will want his bonded mate as close as possible until he can see you back through the gate himself when the time comes.”

“Why would you even want to go back?” The question surprises you, coming from JK. You had almost forgotten he was standing by the door.

You drop your hand and turn to look at him. The fire casts his face in shadows, highlighting the bridge of his nose and the cut of his cheekbones. He looks every bit the fae of lore that you once fantasized about. His eyes bore into yours, lips mashed into a severe line as he waits for you to respond.

“Why would I want to go back?” you parrot back incredulously. “Are you serious? Why wouldn’t I?! That’s where my friends, family, and all other things important to me are. It’s not like you took me from a life of nothing. You haven’t done me any favors…I can only imagine the domino effect this will have on the people in my world.”

🌸🌸🌸

Monica

“Mal, why isn’t she back yet? She’s abandoned me after everything I’ve done for her…traveling halfway around the world chasing after woo-woo kids' stories all because she can’t cope with losing someone.” Monica mumbles into Malcolm’s shoulder. If the way her stomach is clawing at itself, she’s sure it’s been hours since you left to get food. “I’m hungry.”

Malcolm shifts Monica in his lap, getting ready to stand up with her in his arms. “Well, I am glad she brought ye half wey aroond the world. And, I’m sure she’s braw. She likely got caught up in th’ festivities again. I will have mah pal, Finn, keep an eye oot for her. I think I should be getting ye in kip. Otherwise, ye’ll be in a fankle come mornin’.”

“At least send her a text or something for me, please?” Monica whines. “What about my food? Can you ask her where my food is, too? Ugh.”

Swinging Monica into his arms, Malcolm cradles her close, whispering assurances that he’ll take care of everything and not to worry. He calls out to his friend, Finn, asking him to keep an eye out for you and, if he sees you, to let you know that he’s taken Monica back to his place to sleep it off.

After getting Monica strapped into the passenger seat, he shoots off a quick text to your number that he got from her phone, reiterating his intentions and providing his home address if you wanted to come to check on her after you’re done at the festival.

When morning rolls around, you’re still nowhere to be found and aren’t responding to any texts or calls. The hangover is nothing compared to the guilt Monica feels recalling her words and actions last night. You may not have heard what she said to Malcolm, but she hates that she said it regardless.

“Where is she?” Monica voices for what feels like the thousandth time, wiping at the smeared mascara under her red-rimmed eyes.

Monica was nearing her wit's end when you still hadn’t shown up by lunchtime. Malcolm took her down to the local Police Authority to file a report; they immediately went into action. So far, the entire Bowhill House estate and surrounding woods have been searched with no luck. The rental car is still parked at the estate, and all your luggage and credentials are still in your hotel room. It’s like you simply disappeared.

Malcolm pulls the hot kettle off the burner, setting it aside to begin preparing coffee. The bakery sits empty, aside from him and Monica and the occasional officer or concerned friend who pops by with any updates. The time in between information has grown increasingly more significant, putting Monica even further on edge.

“She’ll turn up, lass. She would nae have left ye.” The assurances don’t seem to be doing as much as they had before.

Monica sighs, staring out the bakery window, trying to think of anything important that might lead to finding your whereabouts. Deep down, though, she can’t shake off the niggling thought that you’re no longer here…but somewhere else.

🌸🌸🌸

JK glares at you as if you’ve somehow offended him with your words. “At least your loved ones are safe, protected back in the human world…not mere days away from utter destruction.” His words make you grind your teeth, irritated in your own way that they make you feel selfish and ungrateful.

Joon clears his throat, breaking the thick tension in the air. “That will be enough of that; from both of you. Far too much negativity has permeated through the eaves of my home, and I will not allow it to continue.” A soft breath leaves him as he returns to his wood, murmuring something else you barely catch, “I do not think my magick can handle much more strain anyway.”

Drawing your legs up to your chest, you return to watching the fire dance in the hearth. The silken fabric of the pants Joon gave you slips along your legs as you shift, bringing with it soft whiffs of cedar and clove. The entire outfit smells faintly of it, like mulled spices and freshly chopped cedar chips. It’s comforting, much like the lavender and thyme tea from earlier. It reminds you of your grandpa. Your thoughts shift to him and his stories. A sad smile tugs at your lips, and you wonder if he’d believe you if you told him where you’d found yourself. You’re sure he would.

The voices outside have quieted down. Your eyes begin to droop as exhaustion creeps in. Since time holds little meaning here, you wouldn’t be surprised to see the sun peeking through the windows soon or several hours from now.

When the front door creaks open, you’re nearly slumped over on the floor asleep. You jerk upright and blink rapidly to bring your eyes back in focus. Yoons walks in, followed by a very somber-looking Mini. They both look as if they have been crying, eyes red-rimmed, and cheeks blotchy.

Mini approaches you, back ramrod straight and shoulders squared. He looks down at you along the bridge of his nose. His eyes are a startling turquoise color, something you missed when he first stormed through the door hours ago. They are soft, unlike the glinting green and gold of Yoons’ eyes. “I am sorry.”

You’re taken aback by his apology, balking up at him in confusion. “What?”

“My behavior was unbecoming of someone of my stature. I formally extend an apology to you on behalf of the entire Seelie Court and my position as Crowned Prince, Protector of The Sun, and Guardian to The Stars.” The words are stilted, sounding rehearsed and lacking any genuine emotion. “I hope you do not allow your first perception of me to color the view you hold for the rest of my people.” He cuts a short bow, looming over you as he does, before straightening and turning toward Yoons, standing by JK near the door. “I will be going now.”

“Mini, it does not have to be like this, and you know it.” Yoons crossed his arms over his chest, eyes fixed in a glare.

You can’t see the look on Mini’s face, but you can’t imagine it’s a nice one. “I would rather chew off my own tongue than witness the love of my life fornicating with a magickal void. I will return tomorrow night to move forward with our agreement of attack. Until then, goodnight.”

Yoons moves quickly, cutting off Mini’s advances toward the door. “Please, just stay. They will not miss you at court if you are gone for a few nights. They already think you are patrolling along the border.” He hesitates, flexing his fingers where they are wrapped around Mini’s bicep. “I was hoping you would do the binding for us as a way of offering your blessing. I would not want it to be done by anyone else.”

Mini scoffs. “You want me to be the one to bind you?” Bitterness coats his words, “Do you have no shame? You would ask me to do this, for your sake? What about my sake?”

“Please, Mini, I need this from you. I need this to know that once all of this is over, we will still be okay, that we will still be us” Yoons pleads, moving his hands to grip the lapels of Mini’s jacket. “I cannot do this without you. There is no point in doing this without you because, without you, I might as well not have a people, a kingdom…I would have nothing.”

“Fuck you,” Mini whispers, resignation taking the heat out of it. Yoons pulls him into a fierce hug, clinging to him in desperation. “Seven Suns knows this is not fair. I do not know what I did in a past life to deserve this.”

“I promise to spend the rest of my days making it up to you,” Yoons responds, his words choked with emotion.

You feel like you’re witnessing something private, something you shouldn’t be present for. There is no doubt the connection between them. You’re suddenly feeling something you haven’t in a long time; envy. To love and be loved, in turn, is a desire you hold close to your heart. Tearing your eyes away from where Yoons and Mini are still held in each other's arms, you let your gaze slide across the room, briefly landing on JK and then Joon, who seem to be ignoring the other two as you’re trying to do.

Running Mini’s words back through your head, you realize he mentioned his position as crowned prince of the Seelie Court. Of course he would also be a prince. No wonder he doesn’t think you’re good enough for Yoons. You’re nowhere near having a status like that. You feel a pang of sadness, knowing they can’t be together as mates all because Yoons needs to have access to his full power. It seems that Joon is right; fate is, indeed, a cruel master.

“The sun will be rising soon. We should hurry,” Yoons murmurs, finally pulling away from Mini. “Um, Beautiful,” he stumbles over the nickname given to you by JK, “I also want to apologize.” He turns to face you, quickly rubbing the sleeve of his top over his cheeks to clear away the residual tears. “This is not how any of this was supposed to pan out. I know you must have many questions, but time is not on our side. We are both bound by our word and agreement. I promise to answer any more of your questions once we have fulfilled the bond we have agreed to.”

You chew your bottom lip a moment, focusing on the knot you can feel sitting in the center of your chest, which you know is tied to the agreement you made. There is surprisingly little waiver in your voice as you speak, “What happens if I go back on my word? What if I have changed my mind and am no longer willing?”

The room falls into an uncomfortable quiet. As he stares at you, darkness boils in the mossy depths of Yoons’ eyes. “What can I offer you for that not to happen?” His words slice through the silence, quiet but teetering on the edge of barely restrained frustration.

Smoothing your hands along the front of the borrowed top you’re wearing, you stand from your place on the cushion and face Yoons fully. “I want you to give me your true name.”

“Absolutely fucking not!” JK roars immediately.

“Let us be reasonable here,” Namjoon tries, knuckles turning white as he clutches the wood in his hands.

Mini hisses, baring his teeth at you in challenge. “How dare you! I will—”

“Yoongi. Yoongi of House Min, Crowned Prince of the Unseelie Court, Protector of The Moon, and Guardian to The Stars.” A sense of power settles next to that knot in your chest. You weren’t sure if the stories about the power of given names were true, but it was worth asking; you’re glad you did. Holding leverage over this fae gives you a sense of peace, despite the circumstances.

You nod, satisfied and finally feeling in control for the first time since coming through the gateway. “Okay, Yoongi, what do I need to do?”

“We begin with the binding of our fates,” he says, glancing at Mini, who has a guarded expression on his face. “As the moon gives way to the sun, and the lines between the planes of magick blur, allowing them to embrace and kiss like lost lovers, we will exchange vows bound beneath a knot of eternity.”

“Under the oak?” Mini asks quietly.

Yoongi nods. “It is the closest that we have. JK, if you will?” He holds out a hand to his guard. You watch as JK slowly reaches up and undoes the silver necklace with the crescent pendant from around his neck.

“May I witness?” JK questions, his eyes wide and rounded with curiosity and wonder. You’re not sure if it’s a trick of the flickering light or not, but you’re almost sure you see the glossiness of unshed tears in their depths as well.

“I would not have it any other way, my friend,” Yoongi answers in kind, taking the silver necklace from JK with one hand and clapping him gently on the shoulder with the other. “Joon, you are welcome to bear witness as well.”

Joon hums thoughtfully, setting aside his wood project and tools on the floor. “It would be the greatest honor to stand in observance.”

“What exactly is going to happen?” you ask. You clench your fists at your side, fighting off the sudden wave of nerves barreling through you. You might have power over this fae, but you’re essentially about to marry him, and that feels far more daunting now that it’s about to happen.

Yoongi steps forward and takes one of your hands, gently uncurling your fingers and soothing them with his own. “There is an incantation, ancient words that bind souls together. We will clasp each other's arms like this,” he explains, sliding his fingers along your wrist and forearm before firmly grasping it so his wrist presses against the inside of yours. “We will wrap the silver chain of JK’s necklace around our wrists to keep the pulse points connected as we are bound, my magick to you and you to my magick. This opens the doorway to access the well of my magick. The act of…giving ourselves to one another—removing all barriers—will allow you to step through that doorway, anchoring my connection to my inner well through your access.”

“It sounds so mysterious and, let’s be honest, crazy.” You shake your head, silently pleading for some sort of sign that this is the right thing to do and that you’re not blindly putting your faith in a group of deranged strangers. The breath in your lungs wheezes out, and with the next inhale, you catch the faint cedar and clover scent of the borrowed clothes you’re wearing. It has a calming effect, one you latch onto and allow yourself to cling to. Everything happens for a reason. That’s something you have always believed. Perhaps the thing you’ve been chasing, that something that drove you to fly across the world on a whim, is this. Why else would all of this have happened? “So crazy that it has to be true, right? Fuck. Please don’t let me regret this,” you mutter to yourself.

Mini gestures impatiently toward the door. “Come on, before I have sense enough to change my mind.”

Yoongi guides you out the door and around the side of the tiny home. This is your first time getting a good look at the area. Joon’s cottage sits in a grassy clearing, a massive towering oak in the center, like everything else was built around it. The outer wall of the house sits just under the lowest branches, the fat leaves lightly brushing the lip of the roof. A small picket fence surrounds an expansive, full and lush garden with greenery and crops.

Mini, JK, and Joon follow you and Yoongi around the oak's far side. A large stone wall with a circular opening spanning through the center is hidden on the other side of the garden. Through the space, you can see a pathway into Joon’s garden, lined with blossoming white and purple flowers. “A moon gate,” you whisper in awe.

Yoongi raises an eyebrow at you in surprise. “You know moon gates?”

“Well, yes, I’ve seen them dating as far back as the 17th century in China, though they are also popular in Bermuda. They’re often associated with wealth or good omens,” you rattle off the generic information you know about them. “Though, my grandpa always had a theory that, like structures such as Stonehenge and the Carnac Stones, the moon gates—given the proper implements—could be used as ceremonial gateways to and from other planes or as conduits of power.”

All three of them give you mild looks of astonishment. “You must tell me more about your grandfather once all of this is over,” Yoongi requests, much to your own surprise. “He sounds like an extraordinarily intuitive man.”

“He was, yes.” And with that, you decide you’re no longer acting on your sole behalf but on his, too. You know he would tell you this is the right thing to do. He would be proud of your sacrifice and commitment to helping Yoongi. “I think I would like that very much.”

A distinct pink hue begins to infiltrate the horizon, just over the treeline surrounding the clearing. “The sun is rising,” Joon comments lightly.

Standing together in the opening of the moon gate, Mini and JK work to secure the silver crescent moon necklace around your and Yoongi’s wrists. There is a fervent way to how they work, methodical with nimble and sure fingers. “You said before that we would exchange vows under the knot of eternity?” you say it more as a question than a statement, your curiosity getting the better of you.

Surprisingly, it’s Mini who answers. “Moon gates are an infinite symbol. They have no ending or beginning. They represent eternal continuity. The masonry of the moon gate is a form of stone knotting, precise cuts and measurements that allow the stone to secure together like a knot. It is integral to how the stone retains its perfectly rounded opening, thus a knot of eternity.”

“Beautiful,” you whisper under your breath, having a newfound interest in the symbols and nature of things here that are considered relatively mundane in your own world.

Yoongi’s hand is cool against the heat of your skin. The tips of his fingers graze lightly along the underside of your forearm, sending a slight flush of goosebumps up your arm. Those green and gold eyes meet yours, holding all his worries and relief, reservations and hope within them. He’s such a complex creature, you realize, full of facets and depths deeper than you can imagine. He’s a drowned soul, just someone looking for a way back to the surface . Fate may be a cruel master, but it seems also to have a poor sense of humor.

As the sun replaces the moon, darkness melding into light, Mini speaks words that you do not understand, but you know for sure that they are beautiful. The poetic words chanted over your union are rhythmic, flowing in a way that tugs at your heart. Joon and JK stand on either side of the moon gate, watching in silence as Mini recites the words of the bonding incantation. Finally, his words trail off, and he looks to Yoongi, giving him a slight nod.

Yoongi takes a slow breath, his eyes dropping to where your hand is clasped to his forearm. “As the moon gives way to the rising sun, so too will I give way to you as my mate. I open my heart to you so you may gaze upon my stars and find warmth within my soul. You are now the blood of my blood and bone of my bone. I give you my spirit till my life shall be done.”

With his words, you feel an effervescent tingle beneath your skin from your fingertips all the way down to your toes. You’re not sure what to say or if you need to say anything at all, but you feel like you should.

“I—uh…”

“Just speak from your heart,” Mini encourages, sounding genuinely friendly toward you for the first time.

You look at him, realizing just how hard this must be. Wetness is gathered along his lashes, and his hands are fisting into the sides of his linen pants. He looks at Yoongi like he created the universe, and you suppose that maybe Yoongi did create one—the universe he shares with Mini. 

The words come easy now, flowing like you knew what to say all along. “The moon spends its entire life reflecting the light of the sun so that others may see, even in the dark. I offer myself to you not as the sun but as the ocean, so that you may look upon me and see the reflection of yourself with every cresting wave, to see yourself as others see you and know your full potential. You are now the blood of my blood and bone of my bone. I give you my spirit till my life shall be done.” 

There is a small glimmer of playfulness that you can see in the awe on Yoongi’s face. His hand is no longer cold against your flesh. The buzzing beneath your skin has begun to increase to a staccato pulse, centered in the middle of your chest. The smell of fresh cedar and mulled spice reaches you suddenly, making you realize it is, in fact, Yoongi that smells like that. The subtle scent of jasmine and chamomile mix with it as Mini moves to begin unwinding the silver necklace from around your and Yoongi’s wrists.

“Thank you, Mini, for this gift you have given me.”

Mini gives Yoongi a sad smile. “I am sorry for the way I acted before. I know I have been selfish and a fool, but I will never stop loving you.” His eyes drift to yours. “I thank you for everything you do for Yoongi and our people. Your act of selflessness and kindness will be forever marked in our history.” He finishes removing the small silver chain, allowing you and Yoongi to release each other.

The sun is starting to peak above the treeline, flooding the garden with soft light that catches in the silvery strands of Yoongi’s hair and makes his eyes glitter. Yoongi’s hand slides down your arm until his fingers meet yours. It feels like he’s beneath your skin, the touch heightened in a way you’ve never experienced before.

“We will remain out here for the day, I think,” Joon comments. “It is sure to be a pleasantly beautiful one and perfect for a nap under the oak.”

“I should return to my patrol. I shall return here before nightfall to move forward with the plan.” Mini hesitates, looking uncertain as to what to do. Finally, he briefly grips Yoongi’s free hand, giving it a squeeze before letting go and taking a step back. “Until then.”

You watch as he crosses the clearing, his shoulders tight and his steps stiff. He glances back over his shoulder before disappearing beyond the treeline heading west, back toward the border of the Seelie Court.

“What plan is he talking about?” you ask, turning your attention to Yoongi. His hand still lingers on yours, his fingers lightly tapping against your palm in a calming rhythm.

Yoongi nods to Joon and JK, who have started to meander into the garden through the moon gate. “We think it best to move as soon as possible. My powers are at their greatest when the moon is high, so once night falls again, and we are fully bonded…I should be powerful enough to enter back into the Unseelie Court and finally confront Chaddick—to kill him and his swamp hag, Borgia.”

“That seems so…soon, so sudden. Would it not be better to wait a few days to get used to your new level of power?”

The look Yoongi gives you makes you want to cry. There is so much anguish and hurt you’re certain you can feel the extension of it in your own chest. “I have waited for nearly ten years. I do not know the extent of what horrors have befallen my mother. Every day I do not return is one more day that that bastard gets to extort and pull the strings of my people.” His fingers drop from yours. “Please try to understand.”

Yoongi turns and begins walking back to the front of the cottage. You mean to follow him and apologize, but Joon calls out to you from the garden. “Just a moment, please.”

You chew your bottom lip, watching Yoongi disappear around the corner before turning and finding Joon standing just on the other side of the opening of the moon gate. “What’s up?” you try not to sound too irritated, but you’re not sure it works.

Joon rubs the back of his neck, eyes locked onto the ground at your feet. “I was not sure when would be a good time, but I wanted to give you this before you went back in.” He looks up, extending his hand toward you. In his open palm rests a single white flower, the petals wide and curling haphazardly. “It is called Silver Ward. We use it to control the moon cycle of a female. I believe from what JK has told me of your world…you would call this birth control.”

That has warmth settling into your cheeks. “Oh. Thank you, I think.” You take the flower, pinching it between your thumb and forefinger. “What, um, what exactly do I do with it?” The bud left a chalky residue on Joon’s palm, and you can feel the powdery texture between your fingers.

“You need just one petal. Let it dissolve under your tongue. I am told it tastes like sweet cream. It offers protection for up to one moon cycle. I grow it here in the garden if you have need of more,” he says the last part hurriedly, giving you a shy smile before gesturing back through the moon gate. “If you need anything, we will be…here.”

“Right. Okay. Thank you,” you offer, blowing out your cheeks and eyeing the small white flower again. You turn to go, but Joon clears his throat, making you look back.

“I know this is unconventional, and you and Yoongi are practical strangers, but go easy on him. These are new waters for him to navigate. He will most likely make a fool of himself at least once.” And with that, Joon disappears back into the garden. You stand there easily more confused than you were before. You’re not sure what exactly Joon means concerning Yoongi, but there is only one way to find out.

The sun has risen above the trees by now, but the interior of Joon’s cottage is dark, the curtains over the windows drawn. A small fire burns in the hearth, illuminating enough to see the flower now nestled in your palm. You pluck off a single petal, the chalky coating feels silky against your fingers. You set the flower on the dining table and bring the petal up to your lips. It tastes like marshmallow fluff and disintegrates quickly under your tongue.

There are a myriad of new smells inside the small space, but the most prominent is a mixture of pine and orange blossom. With each breath you take, you’re sure you can distinguish the different smells on a deeper level than before, almost like you’re experiencing them with more than just your sense of smell. Already you feel so different, and you’re not even fully bonded to Yoongi. Before you can let yourself dwell too much on the changes and the unknown that’s to come, you take a deep breath and approach the door to the bedroom.

“Here goes nothing, I guess,” you mumble to yourself. The door to the bedroom is pushed nearly closed, leaving just a line of soft firelight revealed from within. You stand at the threshold, listening for a moment.

“You need this. You better not mess this up. We know the basics. It is not so dissimilar to—“ The floor under your feet creaks as you try to inch closer to hear him more clearly, cutting off his personal pep talk.

Knowing you’ve been caught, you ease open the door and step inside. “Sorry, I was just—whoa! Oh god!” You throw up your hands, slapping them over your eyes. “What are you doing?!” The image of Yoongi standing in front of the fireplace stark naked might as well be burned into your retinas. You can still see it just as vividly, even with your eyes now squeezed closed.

Yoongi makes a distressed noise, fumbling over his words in confusion. “I thought—is this not—umm, would you like me to cover up?” You can hear the rustle of fabric and his light footsteps as they draw near. “I am sorry.” He’s so close that his words, laced with his distinct clove and cedar scent, ghost over the backs of your hands where they’re still covering your face.

The stories got it all wrong, you’re sure. Fae don’t charm people with their glamors; surely all they do is remove their clothing, and the person is entranced. You can’t get the slow curve of where his spine meets his ass out of your head; the way his shoulders appear wider without a shirt, or how his waist tapers in to accentuate the angles of his hip bones. You only caught a brief glimpse as he turned from facing the fire to looking in your direction, but it was enough to fully flesh out all the intimate details.

You’re not a prude by any means. You actually consider yourself very sex-positive and forward-thinking. However, you suddenly feel like you belong in a nunnery, which is absurd. Shaking away the residual thoughts of habits and virtue, you lower your hands and open your eyes.

Yoongi is standing right before you, his black brows pinched in concern. The purple and green checkered quilt tucked under his arms seems comical now, considering you already know what it’s hiding. “You don’t have to do that,” you wave a hand toward the quilt. “I just wasn’t expecting to walk in and see you—umm, like that, is all.”

“I was nervous,” Yoongi admits shyly. “I thought if I went ahead and removed some barriers, it would make it easier.”

That makes you laugh and lightens the mood instantly. “Well, I guess that makes us even, at least. We’ve each seen the other naked without expecting it.”

“So it would seem,” Yoongi muses playfully.

You clear your throat, trying to think of something thoughtful to say that doesn’t involve asking him to drop the blanket so you can get another look. “Why are you nervous?”

He studies you briefly before opening his mouth but doesn’t answer your question. “JK chose correctly,” he says instead, a slight smile on his face as his eyes flicker between your lips and your eyes. “Beautiful is the perfect name for you…you are absolutely exquisite. I hate that I am just now getting a true look at you up close.”

“Oh.” Heat creeps into your cheeks, your bottom lip catching between your teeth. “Thanks, I think. Umm, should we?” You nod toward the bed, gesturing awkwardly between the two of you.

Yoongi glances at the bed and then back at you. “Would it be okay if I kiss you first? Just to get over some of my nerves.”

All you can do is nod, caught as you are swimming in the serenity you find in Yoongi’s eyes. His lips are light against yours at first, just a soft brush. The flavor of clove and spice bursts on your tongue as you inhale, tasting his harried exhale as he presses his lips more firmly to yours.

Your fingers find themselves fisting into the blanket covering Yoongi’s chest as you try to draw him closer. His taste is intoxicating, spicy, and exotic. The first brush of his tongue against yours has your knees going weak. He brings his arms around you, effortlessly supporting you as you take over the kiss.

It’s like a switch has been flipped. You feel consumed with desire and the need to mark this fae as yours. That intense pulse inside your chest is compounding, intensifying into a roaring storm. Yoongi lets out a soft moan that spurs you on, your fingers loosening the blanket and letting it drop to the floor between you. “What am I doing?” you pant, mildly appalled by your own brazen behavior. “It’s like I can’t stop.”

“My m-magick—ah, it is calling to you,” Yoongi moans as your lips break away from his to move along his jaw. You nip and lick down his neck and press open-mouthed kisses along his collarbone.

Yoongi staggers back a step, breaking free of your hold, gasping and clutching at the center of his chest. “Seven Hells! It is like you are beneath my skin,” he speaks the words you thought to yourself earlier.

“I know,” you moan breathily. With the step he’s taken back, you’re now free to see what you only got a glimpse of before. It’s just as pleasing, maybe even more so, considering the very impressive erection that he’s now sporting. His cock is blushed pink at the head, a glistening bead of moisture pooling along his tip. “I need to feel more of that. Whatever that is,” you fist a hand over your own chest, “whatever this is.”

Licking your lips, you can feel how aroused you are. The pulsing between your thighs is accentuated when you step toward Yoongi. He backs up, and you continue forward, smirking at the shy alarm on his face. “I-I am not sure what to do.”

“What do you mean?” you ask, chuckling softly. “You have done this before, right?”

Yoongi flinches when the backs of his knees bump into the foot of the bed. “Well, I—uh, sort of.”

“Mini?” His name leaves your mouth as a breathy question.

“That is different. It is…not like this,” he admits, eyes wide as you press your body to his. “If you had a cock I might know what to do with it.”

You bite your bottom lip to keep from laughing out loud. “Take my clothes off.”

Yoongi gives you a sharp look, raising an eyebrow like he expects you to be playing with him. He settles against the end of the mattress, his weight dips the downy material, putting him now at eye level with you. “Your clothes?” he smirks. “I was annoyed, at first, when I saw you wearing these. Apparently, Joon thought it would be funny to have you parading around in my clothes, marking them with your scent.”

The linen fabric of the top shreds easily under his hands, his fingers sliding between two buttons and pulling until they all pop, scattering across the room. You can’t help but moan. Your chest heaves as you try to regain some composure, sucking in stilted breaths laced with cedar and clove. “Do you need me to give you a step-by-step guide to a woman’s body?” you go for a bit of snark to try and tip the power balance back in your favor.

All evidence of Yoongi’s previous shy awkwardness has vanished. “I think I can figure it out,” he whispers before leaning forward and pressing an opening-mouthed kiss to the fabric covering your left nipple. Your bra is lacey, quickly becoming sheer as Yoongi laves his tongue over it.

You shudder under his mouth, tentatively resting your hands on his shoulders. “Take it off,” you urge.

Yoongi leans back, strings of saliva connecting his parted lips to your breast. “You taste like solstice rain and moonlight. I do not know how else to describe it.” His fingers make quick work of the remnants of the tattered top. He fumbles with the clasp of your bra, but before you can move to help him, he simply snaps the strap—the sound of fabric rending  tears through the air with your own gasp of barely restrained surprise.

“I needed that,” you whine, trying to step back and away from Yoongi before he ruins any more clothing.

“No.” He bares his teeth, glaring up at you through a lust-filled haze. “It is unfair to keep yourself so restricted.”

You roll your eyes and giggle softly as Yoongi grabs at you and brings you back in close. “What’s unfair is how long it’s taking you to undress me.” Shrugging your shoulders, you let the straps of your bra fall down your arms and discard it on the floor.

“I will take my time, and you will be patient,” he murmurs, eyes locked on your now exposed chest. “You are making me ache in ways I never knew possible, like a hunger that can not be sated.”

He slides his hands up your stomach, letting his fingers spread across your ribs and thumbing over your pert nipples, kneading the rounded flesh of your breasts. “Does it always feel like this? Y’know, with a fae?” you question with a gasp.

“This is the first time I have experienced something like this,” he admits, a dopey smile tugging at his lips to expose his pointed canines. “I feel drunk whenever I touch you like I am high on moon wine and blue caps.”

His breath is warm against your skin as he dips forward and latches onto one nipple and then the other. “I might cum if you keep doing that,” you moan as he does it again, spreading his attention between them equally. “It’s like you’re sucking right on my clit.”

“I do not know what this clit is, but I would like to find out,” his words are muffled against your skin, reverberating through your chest and right down to your aching core.

You find your hands fisting into his silver hair, encouraging him to continue exploring your chest with his tongue and teeth. “Let me show you,” you plead. Relenting, curious to continue learning your body, he pulls away and pants against your sternum. “The pants.” He drops his hands down to the fastening on your borrowed pants and methodically unties the knot, letting them fall lax around your hips. Earlier, after your bath, you put your bra back on but decided to forgo your panties, thinking a slightly damp shirt was better than wet pants.

Yoongi’s eyes follow the pants as they slip down your thighs, and his breath hitches as they hit the floor, allowing your sweet and intoxicating scent to permeate the air of the room thoroughly. “You smell so sweet. Show me.” 

“Here,” you breathe, bracing your hands on his shoulders and slowly bringing one of your legs up, perching your foot on the bed beside his hip, opening yourself to him. Your half-mast eyes meet his as he stares up at you. The gold and green of his eyes are nearly consumed whole by the black of his blown pupils. 

“Fuck,” he groans, squeezing his eyes shut and grinding his teeth. “It is almost too much,” he grits, bringing one of his hands down to fist around his weeping cock. He hisses in a sharp breath, stroking slowly up and down before finally opening his eyes and letting them drift down to where you are exposed to him.

Slowly reaching down, you grab his other hand and bring it up between your thighs. You guide his fingers, probing them along your lower lips until they brush over your clit. “This is it. It’s very sensitive,” you suck in a breath as he swirls his fingers in a circle.

“Interesting,” he muses. “I wonder what would happen if…” his words trail off as he catches one of your nipples between his teeth and lightly pinches your clit between his thumb and forefinger.

You jerk against him, crying out from the mix of pleasure and pain. “Yoongi!” When his name leaves your lips, you feel his body go rigid, and a strangled sound emanates from his throat.

That tether inside your chest pulls taut, and you’re pretty sure you can feel him even more now. Not only does it feel like he’s beneath your skin, it feels like he’s invaded every molecule of your being. His breath is your breath, his heartbeat thumps to the same rhythm as yours, and the arousal pumping through his body echoes through you with a shiver down your spine.

His lips come off your nipple with an audibly wet pop, the sensation making you both moan wantonly. “Where do I put my cock, Beautiful? I need to mate with you before I lose my mind.”

“Fuck me,” you correct. “You need to fuck me before you lose your mind. Mating sounds so clinical, fucking is far more sexy, dirty…naughty.” You push on his shoulder, forcing him to lay back. “Say it.”

“I need to fuck you before I lose my mind,” he emphasizes, voice going husky, letting the words curl his lips up in a smirk. His dark eyes track your movements as you follow him onto the bed, moving slowly on your knees as he shifts toward the pillows.

Stopping with your knees to either side of his hips, you settle your ass against the tops of his thighs. The glistening head of his cock smears drips of precum against his stomach as it twitches under your gaze. If you weren’t already so strung out, you’d take him into your mouth and draw more of those guttural moans from him. As it is, the ache between your thighs is like nothing you’ve ever felt before. Yoongi isn’t the only one on the brink of losing their mind. You’ve never wanted something so much in your life.

“I want you to feel,” you encourage, taking up both of his hands. You guide one between your thighs, purposefully dragging both of your hands over his swollen cock. His bottom lip is puffy and red from the gnashing he’s giving it. Sticky strands of arousal drip onto your fingers as you press his to your clit again. “Spread your fingers,” you guide his hand further, nudging his fingers to either side of your pussy.

“You are so warm and wet. Is that normal?”

You hum in amusement. “Warm? Generally. Wet? Only if you’re doing it right.” Yoongi makes a satisfactory noise, his eyes taking on a smug softness as he gazes up at you. “Just wait until you feel how warm and wet it is around your cock.” That makes him lick his lips, his gaze sliding down your body until it rests on his fingers, now gently probing around your opening.

His thick erection pulses in your hand when you wrap your fingers around it. They don’t reach all the way around. You give him an appreciative squeeze that has his teeth sinking into his bottom lip again and his hips flexing under you.

You press his other hand against one of your breasts, encouraging him to knead and thumb over your nipple. “You are so soft everywhere. Delicate and sweet. It makes me want to mark you and dirty you up.”

That makes you shudder and whine, his words tugging at that place in the center of your chest. Not being able to hold back any longer, you shift up onto your knees and angle his cock up. With a slow and smooth roll of your hips, you work the head of his cock through your wetness. You can feel his fingers move, rubbing along the crown of his head, smearing your arousal around.

“Fuck. Me,” he growls. If words alone could elicit an orgasm from you, you’re pretty sure it would be those exact ones, spoken in that very tone, coming from this specific male.

Your lips part with a gasp, your walls fluttering in anticipation. A smirk kicks up the corner of your mouth as you give him precisely what he wants. It’s an empowering experience, watching the emotions and feelings morph across his face. The way his lips slowly part until you can see the pink of his tongue resting over his teeth, the hitch in his breath with each additional inch you take; perhaps most potent of all is the heat and all-consuming desire you see bloom in his eyes as he bottoms out inside of you.

There is a moment of suspended time when you can feel your body accepting his, the stretch is delicious in all the right ways. The universe shifts around you, clicking into place so he truly becomes the moon reflected on your ocean—realistically and metaphysically. You know this is the bond expanding and settling into place, the door opening for you to cement that connection to Yoongi’s magick.

Yoongi smoothes his hand across your breast until it’s pressed right over your heart. His other gently slides out from around where he’s stretching you, fingers splaying against your lower stomach and thumb settling against your clit. “I can feel everything, my hands on your skin, the pressure of my cock inside you, the way my magick is ardently beckoning to you. Reach for it,” he urges, flexing his hips again to grind himself inside you.

“What does it feel like?” the words become a moan as you lift up and then drop back down, rocking your hips as you do.

The full-body shudder that goes through him reverberates into you, raising the hairs on the back of your neck and making goosebumps cascade down your arms. “Ecstasy,” he moans, mouth hanging open and eyes fluttering shut. His back arches, and you find yourself mesmerized by the incandescence of his skin in the firelight.

You dip down, flicking at one of his nipples with your tongue before sucking a blushing mark beside it. The sound of your body meeting his repeatedly is obscene, the scent of arousal and sweat heavy in the air. With each rise and fall of your body, you accept him deeper until there is no discernible difference, no ending or beginning. You just exist together in the same space.

His magick is like a cool sip of water on a hot summer day, cooling and soothing your throat that you didn’t even know was so parched. It is the finest ambrosia, sweet silk on your tongue. Pinpricks of light break through the shadowy haze of your arousal, keying you into the well inside Yoongi. His eyes snap open, finding yours; glittering stars and fiery planets flit through nebulas of swirling galaxies in their depths, constantly changing with every beat of his heart.

The closer you draw to orgasm, the closer you feel to fully immersing yourself in that pool of starlight and cosmic energy. Just as the moon is forever connected to the tide, this will tether you to him for the rest of your existence. The fear of that, which was palpable before, is now nonexistent. You find comfort in letting your walls down and welcoming Yoongi in.

“I’m going to cum,” you whine, moving faster against him. His thumb adds just the right amount of pressure to your clit with each roll of your hips.

“Make me yours,” Yoongi pleads.

His words are the beginning, the tipping of the scales into the endless abyss that is his magick. You cry out, your body surrendering to the pleasure that he provides. The orgasm begins at a violent peak, sucking all the air from your lungs and pulling your muscles so tight they feel like they will snap. The plummet down the other side is exhilarating in high contrast to the tempest, turning from a raging storm into a comforting spring rain. You pulse around him, claiming and marking him as yours, demanding he gives in, too.

You can see the moment he lets go and feel the muscles in his thighs bulge with strain. Warmth floods you with each jet of his cum, punctuated with sharp grunts through his bared teeth. Magick floods the room, encapsulating you and Yoongi in a fog of power so potent you can feel it caressing your skin, thin tendrils of smoke curling around your limbs and weaving through the strands of your hair.

“Yoongi,” you whisper his name, completely in awe at what you’re experiencing.

“Mine,” he murmurs in response, looking up at you with complete and utter devotion—surrender—in his lichen and ochre eyes. He raises his hands, cupping your face and gently pulling you down. His lips meet yours in a soft kiss, lingering a moment before deepening.

Pulling back, you break the kiss with a breathy sigh of contentment. “Mine.” The fact that less than twenty-four hours ago, he was nothing more than your captor no longer matters. He is yours as much as you are his. You know you are where you’re meant to be, doing what you’re meant to do. It was always written in the stars—how could it not be?

Easing one of your legs up, you brace yourself and, with his hands on your hips for assistance, pull off him in a gush of sticky warmth. The scent of clove and maple syrup invades the air in a thick wave. It makes your mouth water, and you can’t help but look down at the mess pooling around his half-hard cock and smeared over your inner thighs with a bit of hunger in your eyes.

“Here,” he says, amusement coloring his husky voice. He swirls a long, slender finger through the sticky mess and brings it to your lips. “Taste.”

Your lips part automatically, your tongue poking out slightly in anticipation. His finger presses down on your tongue, firmly depositing the mix of cum. You greedily suck at his finger, moaning at the taste of warm spices and sweet syrup that burst on your tongue.

It’s now on the tip of your tongue to request to suck his cock, but the flicker of seriousness you see on his face stops that line of thought. You shift, slumping onto the bed beside him, never letting your eyes leave his. The finger he had in your mouth goes into his, and he makes a pleased sound deep in his chest, but his face remains alarmingly impassive. You wonder if you concentrate hard enough whether or not the bond will allow you to hear his thoughts. You can feel him trying to tamp down his feelings as it is. The only thing you have clear and unfettered access to is the seemingly endless well of magick he now has.

“I guess we should go then?” you say after a stretch of silence.

He gives you a sharp look, brows pinched. After a moment, they smooth out, and his face softens. “I can feel your uncertainty. No, my beautiful mate, we do not need to go yet. I do not mean to appear so…distant. I am just trying to understand these new feelings,” he trails off in a whisper, dropping one of his hands onto his chest above his heart. The tips of his fingers prod at his skin like he could dig beneath it and find the answers.

“It’s kind of weird, huh?” You rub at your own chest, marveling at the echoed sensation of Yoongi still gently prodding at his own.

A soft huff of laughter escapes him as he rolls over to face you. It surprises you that his cock is fully hard again, resting against your thigh. “I would not call it weird. I would call it extraordinary.”

That makes you feel fuzzy, cottony-sweet in all the right ways. “Tell me about the plan,” you hesitate to ask, but can’t help yourself now. Your fingers brush lightly along his hip as you adjust beside him, absently moving closer.

Yoongi reaches up, brushing hair from your face. His eyes flick over your features, lingering on your lips several times. “We will leave as soon as the moon appears in the sky. It is roughly a two day journey if we move cautiously. We aim to reach an old turret house on the castle's south side. The last time JK did reconnaissance in the area, he found it abandoned. There is a tunnel through the gatehouse there that leads into the dungeons. It was filled with stones and rubble many years ago, but JK has slowly been excavating it over the last handful of years. It should not take long to break through the remainder and make it inside the castle. The rest…” he trails off, shrugging slightly.

“What about Borgia? The guards?” You lick your lips, trying to stay focused on getting some more clarity on his plan. The heat of Yoongi’s body calls to you. You slip your hand onto his side, trailing your fingers over the smooth curve of his hip bone.

“We can talk about those things later,” he dismisses. “I would much rather focus on something else.” He nips lightly at your bottom lip, trying to coax you away from the conversation. “Wait–you can’t really expect just to waltz in there and be welcomed with open arms. You said you were framed for murder. That leads me to believe that everyone believes it. Otherwise, they’d not be following this Chaddick douche in the first place. So, how are you—“ Yoongi cuts off your tirade with a searing kiss, pressing his tongue into your mouth as you try to protest weakly. “What are you doing? I was just wondering about th–”

He shifts beside you, rolling so his body fits over yours, his hips pushing your thighs wide. “No,” he says, a light snarl sharpening the word. “None of that—not now. It seems I may have not fucked you thoroughly enough, if you still have a mind to wonder.” There is a mischievous twinkle in his eye as he smirks before adjusting his hips and sliding back into your wet heat with a groan. You gasp, clawing at his back as all thoughts of the holes in his plan are replaced with heady moans and delicious orgasms.

🌸🌸🌸

Jimin

It was hard to walk away, leaving Yoongi standing there beside such a devastatingly beautiful creature. The thought makes his lips curl in agitation. It’s not that he hates you. It’s just that he’s jealous of you. So, painfully jealous.

Now that he’s on his way back to Namjoon’s, the sun having set a few hours ago, Jimin feels like he has a clearer head than before. He spent the entire day barking orders at his squadrons, pushing them to train harder than usual. Something he might come to regret in the following days, but he’s resolved to deal with that when and if it comes up. Right now, he focuses on what lies ahead and the journey Yoongi is about to embark on.

To most individuals traversing the Hollow Lands, Namjoon’s clearing looks like a standard meadow with a large oak in the center. Jimin feels a repulsion as he approaches it, something he has to consciously fight against as he comes up to the invisible barrier. It’s how Yoongi has gone the last ten years undetected. Not only does Namjoon’s magickal ward hide the power signatures of another Fey, it also acts as a deterrent, forcing those that don’t know it exists to walk entirely around it without even knowing.

After Yoongi escaped the Unseelie Court, the Hollow Lands were crawling with Unseelie and Seelie guards alike for several months. All in search of the rogue prince. Jimin lamented the entire time, knowing where Yoongi was but wondering whether or not Namjoon could hold the ward. Little did Jimin realize, Namjoon could hold it for far, far longer than any of them thought possible. Though, Jimin is hyper-aware of how much Namjoon’s magick is flagging. He’s glad the ward and strain on his magick won’t be needed much longer.

The large, seeded oak, swathed in shafts of moonlight, comes into view, and Jimin slows his pace, taking as much time as he can to control his breathing and temper. He doesn’t want to snap and snarl at you like a rabid hound constantly, it just happens, and the guilt of it is gnawing at him.

Plastering on a neutral expression, he pushes through the invisible boundary and enters the clearing. The first thing he sees is you and Yoongi, standing on Namjoon’s porch, haloed by the soft glowing lights, with your lips pressed together in a languid kiss. His nose is tickled by your sickly sweet syrupy scent, mixing with his lovers’. A growl forms in his chest, but he swallows it before it can come out.

Jimin clears his throat as he crosses the yard, startling you and Yoongi. Yoongi flinches away from you, putting several inches between your bodies. That familiar guilt rolls in as Jimin watches your expression drop as if Yoongi’s knee-jerk reaction hurts you. Jimin subtly shakes his chin, dismisses it, and looks to Yoongi. “The moon will be at its zenith soon. Have you prepared?”

Namjoon and Jungkook appear from around the side of the house, carrying baskets full of harvested crops. “We began preparing as soon as the sun went down. We’ve been waiting for you,” Jungkook states cooly. He eyes Jimin, daring him to offer up some pitiful excuse for why he is arriving so late.

“I was under the impression we were not going to leave until the moon was at its highest point, giving Yoongi the most access to his magick,” Jimin replies, sounding only mildly annoyed.

“There will not be a we, Mini. You are not going.”

Jimin jerks around to gawk at Yoongi. “Excuse me?”

Yoongi subconsciously brushes his hand against yours as he steps closer to skirt around you and descend the porch stairs. “We have been talking about it and—“

“We? I thought there was no ‘we’?” Jimin interrupts, his annoyance flaring again.

Taking a deep breath, Yoongi gestures back to you, “We—Beautiful and I—we, have been talking through the plan and agree that it would be best for you to remain behind just in case something happens. I do not want the wrong people to discover that you have been privy to my whereabouts this entire time.”

Jimin knows that makes sense and is exceptionally logical, but it still burns him inside. “What does she know?” he sneers. “She is barely Fey. What can she possibly offer in this situation other than her cunt!?”

“Watch what you say,” Yoongi warns in a voice like cold steel. “I have been nothing but patient with you, Mini. But I will not tolerate your tantrums much longer. Do not let my love for you blind you to all else. You will stay here, or you can go back to the Seelie Court, but you are not coming, and that is final.”

That burn intensifies, consuming Jimin in a conflagration of sorrow and anger. He chews his tongue until the metallic taste of blood bubbles in his mouth. All he can do is stare at Yoongi, wondering if they’ll be able to come back from this or if he’s lost him to the human forever. He finally drops his eyes, backing down from the argument. “So be it,” he mumbles.

Namjoon and Jungkook amble up the steps, setting the food baskets by the door. “The bags are almost ready,” Namjoon tells Yoongi. “I just have a few more items to add.”

“You honor me,” Yoongi replies, affectionately clapping Namjoon on the shoulder. “It will not be much longer, my friend.”

There is a haggardness around Namjoon’s eyes that Jimin hadn’t noticed before. The strain on his magick has never been more apparent. It helps break him out of his internal battle, pushing aside his grievances to deal with later.

“I’m still not sure this is a good idea,” Jimin hears you telling Yoongi.

“Everything will be fine, Beautiful. You have nothing to worry about.”

Jimin watches you shake your head and your brow furrow as you take up one of Yoongi’s hands. “I don’t like it. There’s still so much we don’t know about this,” you gesture between yourself and Yoongi. “What if it’s too much and we can’t navigate the flood properly? I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“What are you talking about?” Jimin can’t help himself. He’s curious as to what you’re whining about. Curious about your bond in general, if he’s being honest with himself.

Your eyes slowly shift to Jimin, and he feels like a bug under a looking glass, being examined for flaws by you. “I want Yoongi to wait, a day at least, so he can experiment and get used to the new level of power he has now. I can feel it,” you absently pat your chest, making Jimin realize you’re wearing another of Yoongi’s shirts. He tries to shove down the envy that rears up, only barely managing to keep the sneer off his face. “It’s chaotic and unruly…it scares me.”

Jimin scoffs. “Of course it scares you. You are not Fey. You are not used to the ways of magick. Have some faith in your mate. I know you have barely known him for a day, but I have known him most of my life. Take it from someone who truly loves him. If he says he will be fine, then he will be.” He’s so intent on lashing at you that he misses the hurt he causes reflected in Yoongi’s eyes.

You frown at Jimin, chewing your bottom lip. “I do…um, have faith in him. I’m just…it’s hard to explain.”

Yoongi turns his eyes on you, and at that moment, Jimin almost drops to his knees. But, instead, he remains on his feet, swaying slightly as he silently anguishes over the adoration he sees in the depths of Yoongi’s gaze, the passion that was once meant only for him but is now shining so brightly for you.

“With you and JK with me, nothing can go wrong. We have two days of travel to work on control. We will be fine,” he assures, kissing your forehead softly.

“She’s going with you?” The words are caustic, like acid burning up his throat.

Yoongi sighs. “Yes. She and JK will accompany me. They will remain outside once we get to the castle while I confront Chaddick.”

“Ready to go whenever you are, boss,” Jungkook calls, coming out of the house ladened with three rucksacks and a string of metal canteens. “Beautiful, you get the tiny bag,” he chuckles, handing you the smaller of the three bags.

Jimin notes the amusement in your eyes as you swat at Jungkook affectionately. It seems the two of you have made up in the time he’s been away. It makes Jimin curious about what else you’ve managed to do. He glances at Namjoon, coming down the steps behind Jungkook.

“Packed enough food for the journey and then some.” Namjoon smiles, offering you a small loaf of something wrapped in a blue linen cloth. “Bread for tonight.”

“I tried to convince him that a loaf of bread isn’t really sensible for travel like this, but you know how he is,” Jungkook chides, playfully elbowing Namjoon in the ribs with a laugh.

“You will not be complaining tonight when you eat half of it yourself,” Namjoon murmurs. It makes Jungkook laugh again, their light banter continuing. Jimin watches, trying to come to terms with the myriad of emotions he’s feeling.

Yoongi takes one of the packs from Jungkook, securing it on his back comfortably before helping you with yours. “Joon,” Yoongi turns to Namjoon, embracing him. “Without you, we would have been lost long ago. It is time, my friend. Rest.”

Namjoon nods his head, eyes glistening with emotion. “It has been my pleasure.”

The moment the ward disappears, Jimin can feel it. His own magick prickles with the loss of such a powerful expression. He had never paid much attention to just how quiet the barrier made the glade. A cacophony of sounds infiltrates the small space around the house, bugs and birds, and all other manner of creature noises.

The seeded oak in the center of the clearing rustles in the wind, the leaves perking up ever so slightly as the strain of the ward lifts off of Namjoon’s shoulders.

“Take care while we are gone. I will send word as soon as possible, if you do not hear something beforehand.” Yoongi shifts his attention from Namjoon to Jimin. “Mini, it might be wise to check in with the Seelie Court sometime between now and three days from now to solidify your alibi just in case.”

Jimin crosses his arms over his chest, narrowing his eyes. “This is absurd. I could just as easily wait outside the castle with JK. Besides, what if you need someone who can actually help if things go badly?”

“I already said—“ Yoongi begins but, to Jimin’s surprise, you step forward and cut him off.

There is no hostility in your eyes, which makes Jimin irritated all the more. He wishes you would yell and scream at him, shake a finger in his face or something to paint you in a negative light—to validate his dislike for you. “Mini,” the way you say his name so calmly makes him want to spit, “I know how much you care for Yoongi, but it wouldn’t be doing him any favors if you somehow got caught or found out to be with him. He explained to me much of what you have both endured the last ten years, don’t throw it away now.”

“You talked to her about us?” Jimin doesn’t bother to mask the hurt in his voice.

Shaking his head, not in denial but in exhaustion for this back and forth, Yoongi spreads his hands. “I do not know what you want from me. I am doing the best I can right now, Mini. Please…just, try. Try to be understanding. You and I both know this makes sense.”

Jimin wants nothing more than to lash out, continue arguing his point until Yoongi relents—leaving behind you and taking him instead. But, the way you look at Yoongi, almost like you pity him for having to put up with Jimin’s bullshit, has him swallowing down his next snide retort. The bridge between him and Yoongi is already hanging precariously by a fraying thread that’s maple flavored and you-shaped. He can’t afford to see it weaken further because of his own wounded pride.

“We need to move now while the moon is high. The darkness will help conceal us, but we can also use the additional power to cloak with,” Jungkook states, breaking the awkward tension, offering a brief nod in farewell to Namjoon and Jimin.

Jungkook has already moved to the edge of the tree line, waiting patiently for Yoongi and you to follow. An awkward moment passes as Yoongi and Jimin stare at each other. You offer Jimin a tight smile before pushing onto your toes and whispering something into Yoongi’s ear. Jimin wishes he could read your mind or that you’d speak aloud instead of in hushed tones. You pat Yoongi on the shoulder, turn without another word, and join Jungkook, your back to the clearing.

Yoongi closes the distance between himself and Jimin, reaching up with both hands and cradling Jimin’s face as he’s done countless times before. Jimin’s eyes flutter closed, a sob catching deep in his chest. He refuses to cry right now. He won’t let you see his weakness and how much this is hurting him. His resolve almost flags when Yoongi’s lips press to his, that familiar taste of clove flooding his senses, bringing with it a hint of maple that is far more alluring than it has a right to be.

It’s over far sooner than Jimin would like, but he’s too stunned to react. “You do not give her enough credit, my love. She deserves more than your ire.”

Whatever response Jimin had died on his tongue as Yoongi stepped away, giving him a sad smile before turning. He doesn’t look back as he joins you and Jungkook. Jimin stands there, staring until your group disappears in the gloom of the trees. Even then, he remains rooted to the spot, uncertain of what to do.

“Join me?” Namjoon asks. Jimin shakes himself, turning toward Namjoon, who nods to the baskets of potatoes and peas sitting on his porch. “Just like old times.”

“Of course.” Jimin nods, willing away the sadness threatening to swallow him whole. “I will welcome a good distraction.”

Namjoon moves up to the porch and eases himself down to sit on the edge of it, long legs making his feet nearly touch the ground. He pats the porch beside him. Jimin pulls over a basket of peas and has a seat.

Picking up one of the green pods, he presses his thumb into the seam and pops it open, depositing the dozen or so peas into the empty basket Namjoon places between them.

“Is it really so bad?” Namjoon asks. He doesn’t pose it as a snide question but as a genuinely concerned inquiry.

Jimin grabs another pod, methodically opening it and shelling the peas into the basket. “You would think after all this time, I would have developed some sense of acceptance regarding this situation. Perhaps I even thought I might have, but it seems that would be incorrect.”

“She is not that bad, you know.” Namjoon is efficient in his shelling, working through handfuls of pods simultaneously.

“I can see that, be assured. I just—Seven Suns—I am being an asshole. I do not mean to be. There is something I can not shake no matter how hard I try.” Jimin accidentally smashes a pea in frustration, flicking the ruined green mush into the yard. “I love him and fear that may not be enough now. I can not bring him the joys that she does. There is nothing more powerful than a mated bond.”

A silence that is surprisingly comfortable falls between them, Namjoon letting Jimin take the space he needs. Jimin knows he can speak plainly to his friend. After all, he has known Namjoon even longer than he has Yoongi. Namjoon used to reside within the Seelie Court, the son of a gardener on the very grounds where Jimin grew up. They were fast friends and crib mates when Namjoon’s mom would sometimes help the Seelie Queen tend to the younglings.

Namjoon is the reason Jimin did not neglect his duties as crown prince, and Jimin is the reason Namjoon now lives a life of solitude in the Hollow Lands. It was an accident, but no less Jimin’s fault for being careless. Namjoon had been helping him sneak out of the castle to meet with Yoongi secretly, helping foster the budding of their never-meant-to-be romance. They were caught one night. Jimin received guard duty as punishment. But Namjoon was turned out of the castle, not permitted to return.

Hours have passed and Jimin is so deep in his thoughts of life from before, that it takes Namjoon a few tries to get him to snap out of it. “Jimin! Jimin! I thought I heard—”

“Huh, what?” Jimin blinks his eyes, throwing a glance at Namjoon. Namjoon is staring into the distance. The sun is just beginning to peek over the trees, the spaces beneath still heavily shadowed. Namjoon opens his mouth to respond, but a pained scream echoing from the trees cuts him off. “What was that?”

“That sounds like—“ Another gut-wrenching scream rips through the air.

They’re both on their feet in seconds, leaping effortlessly off the porch, peas scattered and forgotten. “Can you get the ward back up?” Jimin asks, a feverish pitch to his words.

Namjoon licks his lips, perspiration already beginning to bead on his brow as he gathers the strength to attempt it. “I do not know, but I will try.”

“Here,” Jimin mindlessly snatches at the pendant around his neck, popping the links of the chain it’s attached to in the process. “Use this.” He drops the crescent moon necklace they used for the bonding ceremony in Namjoon’s palm. Implements used for bonding retain residual powers that can be used as amplifiers, like an echo of the magick the bond was created with. Jimin hopes it’s enough.

Namjoon closes his eyes and begins to mumble words under his breath. “It will not be as big, just focused directly around the house…but it will have to do.”

Jimin steps forward after another scream peals through the air, closer now. His feet falter as two figures come into view, stumbling out of the gloomy covering of the trees. “Seven Suns!” Jimin curses, frozen in shock at the sight before him.

His feet finally move as if with a mind of their own. He lurches forward, arms catching the smaller, bloodied form before it hits the ground.

Your cheeks are marred with jarring splashes of raven-colored liquid. Unseelie Blood. The metallic tang burns Jimin’s nose as he hauls you against his chest. Pitiful whimpers bubble past your lips, your whole body trembling in his hold. A faltering, equally bloody Jungkook hits the grass beside him, barely within the new barrier Namjoon has erected.

“What the fuck happened?” Namjoon drops beside Jungkook, frantic hands patting at his friend, checking his vitals.

“Sh!” Jungkook huffs, slapping a hand over Namjoon’s mouth. Despite being obviously injured, Jungkook pushes up into a sitting position, eyes locked on the treeline they just stumbled from.

The sounds of shouting pick up a moment later, and then a cluster of silhouettes move along about fifty yards in. It’s hard to hear what they’re talking about, but the few words Jimin catches have his hands tightening around you.

The new ward is up, but Jimin isn’t sure how long Namjoon can hold it. If it were to drop before the guards move on, they’d be far outnumbered. It would be an impossible battle. His eyes flick to Jungkook, taking a moment to assess his condition. There is already a dark wet patch on the grass beneath him. The entire right side of his body is drenched in black blood…hard to tell if it’s his or someone else's.

Jimin grits his teeth, silently willing the guards to move on. They finally do, pushing further west. You’re practically catatonic in Jimin’s arms, he realizes after finally looking back down at you. Your head is listing to the side, and your eyelids are drooping heavily. Pulling you away from his chest, he realizes bright crimson is coloring your front. He quickly traces the blood, finding the source—a fingers-width-sized knife wound in your right side. He can’t tell how deep it is, but probing with his magick tells him it’s not immediately life-threatening.

“Beautiful,” Jungkook croaks, trying but failing to shift over to you. “Is she okay?”

That is the furthest thing from Jimin’s mind right now. There is only one thing he can focus on. Even though he fears the answer, Jimin forces the words past his lips, “Where is he? Where is Yoongi?”

Jungkook lets out a despairing sob, collapsing back into the grass. Namjoon begins to assess for wounds, tearing away Jungkook’s clothing methodically.

You pitifully grab at the front of Jimin’s shirt, your eyes locking onto his turquoise ones with a fleeting moment of clarity. “T-th-they took him.” 

It’s like a dagger to Jimin’s heart.

Next Chapter⇾ ⇽Previous Chapter ◅ Back to series masterlist

◅ Back to Main Master List ©️ 2023-05-19 ColorMePurplex2

[lilacbts]

BTS Fae AU Update

hi! i'm really enjoying creating my BTS fae au. i have a title and i'm working on an outline. college is starting soon for me, so i won't have as much time to write, but i will continue working on it as much as i can.

for now, i created a moodboard that i think captures the vibe of the story. it's a mix of light academia and ethereal/bloomcore. part one of the story takes place on modern-day earth, and part two takes place in the fae world :)

i'll put up an announcement post when i think i've got enough planned that i can start writing. bye!

[yoonia]

Food for thought.

[writersrealmbts]

We Could Be: (Fixed) 3 and

We Could Be: (Thirsty) 4

Description: In a world of magic, mortals, and immortals; six souls are brought together to navigate the world. Namjoon had become immortal by accident. Hoseok was born into immortality. Jimin was pursuing immortality. Yoongi had immortality thrust upon him. Taehyung isn't sure how or when he became immortal. Jungkook showed no interest whatsoever in immortality. It's Seokjin's job to help them all learn to live, immortal or not. His job to keep them safe and teach them how to live life while losing people they loved to mortality. It was their desire to teach him how much they loved him. It was their desire to show him just what "We Could Be". Now if only the government would stop trying to mess with them.

Posting Date: 1/26/2023

Wordcount: (Fixed) 1,489; (Thirsty) 2,832

Tags: Magic Au, Ot7 bts, werewolves, werecats, vampires, nymphs, magic users, etc.

AN: My resilient babies, Jiminie and Yoongi. Two chapters! Enjoy!

Previous. Next.

Jimin wished his family, his blood family, supported him like it was obvious the other’s supported them.

But he would have to make do with the family that Seokjin had found for him, that Seokjin had helped him meet and like and love.

Meeting Seokjin’s family had also helped.

His parents were kind and welcomed the others into their home warmly, obviously still caring for their son despite however long they had been around.

Jimin had to work hard to prove that Seokjin’s time was worth the effort and money that he put into Jimin—not that Jimin thought that Seokjin thought that any of it wasn’t worth it, he knew his hyung just wanted Jimin to be happy.

Continue reading on Ao3...

Previous. Next.

Ot7 Stories Masterpost

Tagging: @park-jimin-isnt-real ,

#bts ot7#jung hoseok#wecouldbe story#kim seokjin#min yoongi#jeon jungkook#park jimin#kim taehyung#kim namjoon#magic au#nymph au#fae au#vampire au#werewolf au#bts x bts

[sope-and-shine]

Feelings In Major - Part 3

-> PAIRING: PIANIST!YOONGI X VIOLINIST!READER -> SFW(PG-13) // FLUFF, ANGST // S2L -> WORD COUNT: 10.8K -> SUMMARY: IN A KINGDOM WHERE MUSIC RINGS FROM THE LOWEST DUNGEON TO THE FARTHEST MOUNTAIN PEAK, IT’S NO SURPRISE THAT EVERYONE WANTS A CHANCE TO PLAY FOR THE ROYAL FAMILY. HOWEVER, ONLY ONE CAN BE CHOSEN, AND THE ROYAL MUSICIANS WERE THE BEST OF THE BEST. THE ONLY OBSTACLE THAT STANDS BETWEEN YOU AND BEING ONE OF THEM, IS YOUR COMPETITION AND YOUR STAGE FRIGHT. IT WILL TAKE A MIRACLE TO GET YOU ON THAT STAGE…OR JUST A GRUMPY PIANO PLAYER. -> WARNING(S): FEM READER, MILD LANGUAGE, MILD VIOLENCE, IRRATIONAL MEN, READER HAS IMPLIED THOUGHTS OF SA TOWARDS YOONGI’S INTENTIONS AT FIRST(YOONGI IS A GOOD GUY - THE BEST GUY - NO WORRIES, NOTHING ACTUALLY HAPPENS), SELF DOUBT, YOUR DAD IS A BIT OF A DICK

a/n when I started this idea over a year ago, I did not anticipate actually getting to the part where I post it. I still have 6 of these to go, but I’m honestly really proud that I’ve actually done this.

Part 1 // Part 2 // Masterlist

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Most brides when they see the white of their dress think of the new chapter in their life they’re about to begin. They think of this light washing over them that greets them into the world of marriage. They think of all the possibilities the future holds in store for them. But you don’t think of any of those things. You can only think of one thing when you see the color of your dress.

Piano keys.

You can see them laid out in front of you, playing along to a melody that has only seemed to become softer as the days go on. They’re played by long, slender fingers your hands have become so used to holding. You think of how soft they are, how they envelope your own. You think of the way they write on parchment, discarding one sheet after another. 

You think of him.

Yoongi.

The man who you’ve slowly fallen in love with.

The man you’re not marrying today.

“Alright, the guests were finally able to make it through the square. We’ll give them a few moments and then we’ll join them.” Your Father explains as he enters the room. He’s wearing his best, and he stops as soon as he sees you dressed and ready to go, “Oh, you look beautiful.”

He places a hand on each of your shoulders with a proud, adoring smile, but you don’t even recognize your reflection in the mirror. The lace gown is only just nicer than regular formal wear, something your parents splurged on for your big day. It’s collar just shows off the top of your chest, a simple, ornate necklace on display. You can see it just through the veil that’s been drawn over your front. You look exactly how a bride should look on her wedding day, but you don’t feel how a bride should. You should be beaming and jumping in excitement, but you aren’t.

Nothing about today is for you.

“Thank you.” You try your best to seem happy and content, but it’s hard when you’re only moments away from sealing the rest of your future. Your Father can see right through you.

He moves a hand to your face and moves a stray strand behind your ear, “Dear, you’re getting married. You should look happy.”

“I am happy.” You assure him, but your words are empty.

He shakes his head, “You don’t look it.”

“Well, I’d be much happier if I wasn’t being forced to marry someone.” You mumble, intending to keep it to yourself, but he heard you.

“We had a deal-” It’s not the first time he’s tried to defend his decisions to you in the past month. He’s started a million explanations this way, and you’re tired of hearing him try to win your favor! You’re tired of him casting your feelings aside! You’re tired of him acting as though he did nothing wrong at all!

“-and you broke that deal the minute you broke my violin!” You interrupt, blowing up in anger. Your Father takes a step back, surprised by your outburst. You’ve never been one to outwardly express your anger, and even when you have in the past, it’s never been this extreme. You’ve always been soft spoken and precise, saying what you needed to and then remaining neutral. But there’s only so much one person can handle, “You didn’t even give me a chance…”

He tongues the inside of his cheek, “We gave you plenty of chances. You didn’t take them.” 

“You didn’t listen!” 

“You were fooling around with a man who wasn’t your husband, like some harlot! He wasn’t even courting you!” He scolds, reminding you of the position you put yourself in. At least in his eyes, that’s the way it seemed.

“He was helping me!” You argue, a defense you’ve been pushing ever since that day they found you and Yoongi. But he hasn’t listened to you yet, and he won’t be starting now.

Your Father scoffs, “Oh, it looked like he was helping you, alright.” 

You say nothing in response. You always lose your words when it comes to him, because no argument you make will ever be good enough for him to ever listen to you. And what hurts more is that he won’t even take your character, one he’s watched grow since you were a baby into account for everything. He’s thrown your happiness out the window, and he’s throwing you out with it as well.

He takes your silence as a win and sighs, “I’m done talking about what’s in the past.” He reaches for the veil atop your head and pulls it over your face, “You’re getting married to Lord Kang, and then you can get over this.”

“So, my happiness means nothing to you anymore?” You ask, your numb gaze barely hidden by the curtain he’s placed between the two of you. A symbol of the wall he continues to create to push you further and further away.

He opens his mouth to say something, but he stops himself. Instead, he fixes his posture, “I won’t hear any more nonsense from you.” He takes your arm in his and pulls you to his side, holding tightly to your arm as if he’s afraid you’ll run away at any given moment, “Now, I better see a smile on your face when we make it to the church.”

“Whatever you say, Father.” You answer in a monotonous tone, casting your head to the door and your eyes to your feet.

The way to the church should be happy. It should be exciting and leave you giddy because you’re just teeming with excitement to spend the rest of your life with someone you love! But the walk from your home to the church feels like a walk to the gallows. You feel as though once that ring is placed on your finger, you’ll have the carpet ripped out from under you. What makes it even worse is the joyous cheering from the competition. You can hear the crowd as they cheer and clap, and you listen as they welcome their next performer. You listen as the song starts, and it’s the 5th selection. It’s the piece you’d wanted to play so badly at first, but Yoonig forbid you from playing it. He said it was too easy, too safe, and too expected. He said that too many people would play it, and it didn’t matter how beautiful it was. He said that after hearing it so many times, the crowd would dull like a blade. And with every step, you come to realize just how right he was.

It’s repetitive, plain, and boring. It doesn’t give life or variety. It’s just a simple melody that everyone knows. It’s something familiar that you enjoy, but it’s nothing new. Even when someone else plays it, it’s still the same melody and adds nothing to the selection of musicians. It’s a safe option, but it’s not the best option. But it’s far too late to back out now.

For you and the performer both.

Part of you is glad that, at least if you’re being forced to do this, that you at least have your Father to hold onto. You still have him there to keep you grounded, even if you’re still furious with him for the choices that have led you both here. It’s hard holding back your tears, but they threaten you with every step you take towards your fiancé. With every step, you leave behind the life you want for a life that you can never get rid of.

“And who gives this woman away?” The priest asks when you make it to the end of the aisle.

“I do.” Your Father answers. He reaches out for Lord Kang’s hand and pulls you toward him, bringing your hands together for him to lead you the rest of the way to the altar.

“Very good. You may all be seated.” You hear everyone move to sit behind you, your Father joining them as well. “Ladies and Gentlemen, we gather here today to join these two in Holy Matrimony. Now, before we begin, if there is anyone here with reason as to why these two should not be wed, then you may speak now or forever hold your peace.”

You hold your breath, knowing that if you let it out too soon that you may be the person to object your wedding. You instead busy yourself in the silence of the room, waiting eagerly for someone to interrupt it or for the priest to make it end. Outside, you can hear the muffled cheers of the crowd dying down as the next musician begins to play. It’s one of the more exciting pieces from the competition list. Your second choice that Yoongi was a bit more understanding of, but it still didn’t please his taste. Oh, what you would give to play it now.

“If no one has any objections, then we may proceed.” The priest announces after giving everyone ample time to come forward. You let go of the breath you were holding, but it gets caught in your throat again, “Lord Kang, please repeat after me: I, Lord Kan-“ 

“STOP!” 

You turn as soon as you hear his voice, gasps leaving the crowd behind you. Jogging up the aisle, dressed in his performance clothing of the Royal Musicians with his hair combed back is Yoongi. It’s a bit messy and he’s out of breath, almost as if he ran all the way here. At his side, he carries a case. He stops just at the steps of the altar and takes a deep breath, “Stop the wedding. Please.”

The priest takes a hesitant glance between you and your betrothed and Yoongi, “Sir-“

“I object this wedding!” Yoongi interrupts, eyes so fierce with determination, he even takes you by surprise.

Lord Kang scoffs next to you, “On what grounds?” He looks Yoongi up and down as if he’s a child, looking down on him. He doesn’t seem convinced that Yoongi has any reasonable grounds for objecting. And he has good reason to be skeptical, because Yoongi has no ground to object.

Yoongi sees this and his lip quirks in a smug grin. He meets your eyes and points to you with his free hand, “On the grounds that this woman is already married to me.”

Your eyes widen in surprise, knowing very well that you and Yoongi never once uttered any marriage vows to each other. You look to your parents to see their reactions, and they look just as shocked as you feel. Your Mother seems almost heartbroken, and you can’t even begin to imagine what must be going through her head. Much less, you can’t imagine what’s playing behind your Father’s eyes.

A strong hand grips your bicep, Lord Kang pulling you towards him. His eyes are like daggers as he scowls at you, “What is he talking about?”

In this situation, what are you to say? That you don’t know why he’s talking about and continue on? To accept this as a sign of fate and run away? You have no good explanation for what Yoongi’s doing right now. Much less an idea of where to begin with them throwing you on the spot.

You shake your head and try to pull yourself out of his grasp, “I-“

“Get your hands off her, at once!” Yoongi demands, storming up the small staircase and pushing himself between you and your betrothed. He stands tall with his back straight, his arm thrown over your arm that’s been grabbed. He acts as a barrier between you and Lord Kang, ensuring that even if he were to pull you, you’d still bump into him before he could run off with you.

Lord Kang cranes himself over Yoongi, attempting to intimidate him with his size, “You dare try to stand between me and my bride?”

You grab onto the back of Yoongi’s coat with your free hand, scared that Lord Kang really will attempt to pull you from behind him. Or worse, he’ll try to hurt Yoongi just to get to you. But Yoongi doesn’t falter.

The musician remains tall, mustering every bit of confidence he has to stand his ground, “We got married in secret 2 months ago by a warlock. The Royal Librarian to be more specific,” He emphasizes, dropping a hint of his own importance and status. It startles Lord Kang enough for Yoongi to remove his hand from your arm and move the both of you back a few steps. But he makes sure to show no visible signs of retreat, “His magic is binding and that makes this woman my wife.”

Lord Kang looks furious, and he turns to your Father for an explanation as the crowd begins to mutter around them. You pull at Yoongi’s coat and whisper furiously, “Yoongi, what are you doing?”

He turns around, finally able to face you for the first time in months. His hand gently raises to cup your cheek, “I’m buying you time.”

“Yoongi, we’re not married.” You remind him.

“If you still have any faith in your dream-! If you have any faith left in yourself, then please come and play! Please don’t sign yourself away when you can still perform for the Royal Family.” He pleads, keeping his voice hushed so others won’t hear his plan.

“Winning won’t stop my marriage. He already has my dowry!” You explain.

“Then you can pay it back to your parents with your winnings!” He argues.

You let out an exasperated sigh, “I’d have to win first, and I’m not even on the list! I don’t even have an instrument to play either.” 

He shakes his head, “Yes, you are. And yes, you do.” He drops his hand and lifts up the case he’s been carrying, making quick work of the latches to open it up.

Inside is a violin, brand new and polished. It’s body is a lighter color, and you can’t tell if it’s made out of rosewood or spruce. But you couldn’t care less about the wood type when you’re completely distracted by the Larches carved into the skin. They decorate the outline of the body, acting like a chain. Everyone is detailed and softly etched so it won’t disturb your playing. Something like this must have cost a fortune.

You softly trail a hand over the etching before you look up at the brave pianist in disbelief, “Where did you get this?”

“I made it.” He admits sheepishly, his ears turning a soft shade of red. He averts his gaze to the piece in his hands, “It took quite a bit of work, but I stayed up for days just to finish it for you. I even made sure to put you down for a time that we can play together.” 

This time, it’s you who reaches out to cup his cheek, lifting his chin so he’ll meet your gaze. You search his eyes for anything, wondering what he must be thinking at a time like this, but all you can see is his sincerity. Thinking back on the first time you met, to end up here seems almost asinine, “You did all of this for me?” You ask.

“I-“ He opens his mouth to say something, but he stops himself. It’s like he’s contemplating in his mind what he should say or how to explain his actions, but nothing seems good enough. He sighs, “We both have worked too hard to let this chance just slip away. You can still live out your dream.”

“You really think so?” You ask.

“I do.” He says. He takes a quick peek at his watch and his eyes go wide, “But if we want this to work, then we need to go.”

He starts to close the violin case, but you’re still left wondering what will happen here if you leave, “But the wedding-“

“Will be postponed until they can prove I’m lying.” He reminds you, that smug grin from earlier returning.

It takes you a second to realize that he’s right. They’ll have to get in touch with the officiant that orchestrated your ceremony, and that will still take days to finalize. If all works out, you’ll have already won the competition by then. Yoongi really did think of everything before he put his plan in motion, and you’ve never been happier to know someone like him. You can’t help but smile just thinking about it, “You really are a genius.”

“I know~” He teases, “Now come on.” He takes you by the hand and once again puts on a brave face for the crowd as you attempt to leave, “My wife and I will be going now.”

“Now, just you wait a minute!” Lord Kang steps in front of the two of you, putting a hand out to stop him. He tilts his head back, nose pointed upwards as he looks at Yoongi like he’s beneath him, “Her dowry has already been paid for! I’m not just going to let you walk away with her, nor will I give it back.”

“Then keep it. Unlike you, I can afford to marry a woman without treating her as a trade and still take care of her financially.” Yoongi assures him, “She’s my wife, so that’s my responsibility, but she’s not staying here with you.”

The Lord’s eyes narrow. It’s not hard to tell how entitled he is,especially when he gets face to face with Yoongi, “Who do you think you are?”

“I can be your worst nightmare if you don’t back off.”  Yoongi answers, remaining strong despite his distaste for confrontation. He can feel you shaking behind him, and he squeezes your hand to comfort you. He doesn’t want to subject you to this any longer, so he takes a deep breath to ease his own nerves, “Keep the money you’ve been given. Just leave us alone.” 

He pulls you behind him once again to go around Lord Kang, but the man makes no attempt to stop you this time. You think Yoongi’s actually done it when you hear your Father call from behind you, “(Y/n)-!”

Both you and Yoongi stop, looking over your shoulders to see your Father standing in the middle of the aisle, he seems angry, saddened, and embarrassed. You can only think of how this must have tainted your pride, and a part of you hates that you’ve put him in this situation. But it’s Yoongi’s comforting hold on your hand that has you remaining strong and resilient.

He gently tugs at your conjoined hands, “Let’s go. We can still make it.”

You spare one final moment of attention for your parents, before you turn on your heel and pick up the front of your dress to follow Yoongi out of the church. He stops just outside to help you grab enough fabric to keep you from tripping and holds it between your palms as you make your escape down the steps. You follow him down the cobblestone road, your heels clicking with every step you take. The wind tousles your pinned hair, a few pieces straying from where they were. But you pay them no mind. 

You continue to let Yoongi guide you behind a large crowd, a contestant currently playing with another pianist accompaniment on stage at the very front. You can see her Lady and Prince Seokjin on their stand, watching the performance front and center. You can already feel the nerves building in your stomach, but you try to push it down like you and Yoongi had worked on before you were torn apart.

He leads you to the side where kingdom guards keep watch over the contestants. One of them seems to recognize him and moves to let him through, “Yoongi! There you are! What took you so long?”

“I had some convincing to do.” He simply says.

The guard turns his attention to you, doe eyes looking you up and down before he turns back to Yoongi, “Is this her?” He asks.

Yoongi’s grip on your hand tightens and you can see red rising to his cheeks once again, “We can do introductions later, Jeongguk.”

Yoongi pulls you along, Jeongguk waving after you. He drags you all the way to a tall man with brown, messed up hair standing by the stairs. A pair of wire rimmed glasses rest loosely on his nose as he stares down at a clipboard. A woman stands behind him on the first step onto the platform, resting her arms on his shoulders to read its contents.

The woman notices them approaching first, her eyes lighting up when she sees the two of you, “Yoongi!”

The man looks up as well, scrunching his nose to push his glasses further up. He smiles, “Hey! So, I’m guessing it actually worked?”

Yoongi looks to you and then back to the man, nodding, “Min (Y/n), please.” 

The woman immediately starts looking over the list, running her finger down the participants while Namjoon reads over them. Both of them seem very unfazed, but you’re taken aback, “Min?” You ask, feeling a bit of heat rushing to your face.

“We’re married, remember?” He teases, shaking your intertwined hands. The simple action makes you smile, and you can’t help but giggle with him.

“Oh!” The woman roughly taps her finger against the paper, “She’s next.”

“I’m next?!” You ask in shock. You turn to Yoongi in a panic, “Yoongi-!”

He’s quick to set the case down and grab you by both shoulders, making sure to look you in the eyes, “Stop, okay? You can do this. I know you can do this, just as we practiced.” He does something you would have never expected from him, using one of his hands to pull your head towards his and press your foreheads together while the other rests against your waist. He holds you tenderly against him, eyes closed, “It’s just going to be you and me up there.”

You’re left locked in his embrace, eyes staring at his calm facade. He’s done everything he told you he hates doing all in one day. Confrontation, causing a scene, showing public affection, and even running. He’s done it all just for you. And even after all of that, he still stands here trying to comfort you enough to break free from your troubles instead of taking a moment for himself.

He makes you feel safe.

You ease into his embrace, your fingers grabbing onto the fabric of his coat at his waist. You accept the comfort he offers you and take a moment to relax. You think of all the advice he’s given you so far, and all the wonderful memories he’s helped you create up until this point. You want to win and continue creating memories like those, but everything will be for nothing if you lose.

You squeeze your eyes in frustration and pull him closer, “Yoongi-…what am I going to do if I lose?”

“I guess I’ll have to cough up the money for your dowry and you’ll just have to be married to me for the rest of your life.” He says. You open your eyes and find he’s already looking at you. He seems content with the idea, and he smiles when he sees the shock written across your face, “Think you can handle having someone as grumpy as me as your husband?”

You don’t know if it’s because you’ve become friends or if this is all a part of one grand gesture, but you couldn’t care less. Not if he was offering himself to you, “I think I could learn to manage.”

The music on stage stops and the crowd breaks into applause, and you pull back just enough to look. The man and the woman who’d checked you in take that as their cue to head up on stage themselves, but not without wishing you good luck over their shoulders.

“Here-“ Yoongi leans down and opens the case, making quick work in removing the violin before you really do have to go on. He hands it to you, “-Just remember that it’s only you and me, and no one else, okay? Just play for you and me.”

You nod despite the anxiety building up in your system. Then suddenly, an important realization hits you, “I haven’t even tuned!”

“First of all, you don’t need to tune. Even without tuning, you’d still play beautifully. Second of all-“ He flicks your arm, leaving a small sting behind as he feigns offense, “How dare you assume that I - Min Yoongi - would give you an instrument in a time crunch and not tune it!”

“Let’s give him another round of applause!” The man encourages the crowd, clapping her hands after the boy coming your way. Behind him, the pianist that was accompanying him also makes his way down. He makes eye contact with Yoongi, and he nods.

“Let’s welcome back to the stage, Royal Pianist Min Yoongi!” The man announces, clapping his hands for everyone to join along.

“I need to get up there. Just breathe and I’ll see you on stage.” He assures you. He lets go of you and makes his way to the stairs, going up halfway before turning around, “I’m proud of you.”

He doesn’t give you time to respond. He just continues on to the stage, waving to the crowd as they applaud for him. You watch him from backstage with your violin in one hand and your bow in the other, seeing him disappear to his piano just like that. He’s sitting down at his piano to play with you.

And you’re going to join him.

“And for our next contestant…Min (Y/n)!” The two cheer together. They look to you from their spots on stage and you feel the air leave your lungs. Every part of you wants to run, but you know you can’t. You can’t run forever.

So you close your eyes.

Take a breath.

And you make your way up the stairs, holding your violin and bow in one hand and your dress in the other. Looking over the crowd from the stage, it looks like there are far more people than you anticipated. You cast your gaze over the Prince and his Lady, taking note of their watchful eyes. You hope no one minds your attire for today, though you can’t hear any protests over the sounds of the cheering. You glance at Yoongi and he offers you a comforting smile.

The man and woman wave you towards them, bright smiles on their faces. The woman offers a comforting hand on your elbow, “Miss Min, what piece will you be performing for us today?” She asks.

You try your best to refrain from looking down, mustering up all the courage you can to look at her as she speaks to you, “The 7th piece.”

“That’s the hardest one! Only 3 other contestants have played it for us today.” The man says, making your heart drop. 

It’s not that you weren’t aware the piece was hard, you just haven’t played the piece in a while. What if you forget what you were meant to be playing and you throw Yoongi off? What if everyone else did 10x better and you’re left looking like a fool for even trying. You’d disappoint everyone.

You’d disappoint Yoongi.

“I’m sure we’re all looking forward to hearing you play it.” The woman assures, squeezing your arm. She taps your elbow, drawing you out of your thoughts and offers you one last smile, “Please, do your best.”

You nod and she turns back to the crowd, “Min (Y/n), everyone!”

She, the man, and everyone else cheer once again, the two slowly backing away to exit the stage. They leave only you and your violin, and Yoongi and his piano. They leave the timing up to you, but you can already feel the nerves kicking in.

The eyes staring at you, the whispers finally reaching your ears. Even your own intrusive thoughts begin to sink in, and it makes your skin flare up like there’s a fire beneath you. It isn’t too late to back out. You’d just be the weird contestant who fled from her wedding just to flee from her other responsibilities as well.

You turn to eye your exit when you catch Yoongi’s stare from the corner of your eye. He sits with his back tall, hands ready on the keys, and waiting for you. He remains calm, and his eyes are only on you. He doesn’t look to the crowd, he doesn’t adjust his music, he barely even blinks. He just waits for you with a soft smile, like he knows there’s a war going on inside your head and he’s waiting to triage the broken parts.

You shake your head, squeezing the life out of the neck of your instrument, ‘I can’t do this…’ You mouth, your voice coming out in a hushed whisper.

You expect him to frown. You fully expect him to shake his head and tell you to go, but he doesn’t. He remains seated with that same, calming smile, “It’s just you and me.” He assures you.

That mindset is easier said than done.

He takes a deep breath. He emphasizes the intake and the release, trying to get you to mirror his actions just as he’s done before. He does it again and you try your best to mirror him, taking a few solid breaths of your own. He nods to your hands, and you get the message.

With a slight tremble, you gently separate your bow and your violin. You rest the body on your shoulder, tucking it underneath your chin. It eases the shaking of that hand, but the hand that holds your bow still trembles with uneased nerves.

Yoongi checks over his hand position once more - as he does start this piece - before he looks back at you, “The music. Fuel the music.” 

He’d said that to you before, the day he’d dressed you up for his own personal enjoyment and sent you out to the streets. He’d said that if they can’t see you, then they can’t really say anything good or bad about you. 

“But it’s not you that they’re judging. It’s the music and how you perform it. If you perform well, then you’re not bad. You might just not be the best, and there’s nothing wrong with that.” 

You try to let those words sink in, allowing the good memories to ease you. Everyone had cheered for a you they didn’t know. Everyone danced to a song they didn’t know was played by you. If they could do that, then maybe they’d do it again. And maybe it doesn’t really matter if they do or not. Even if you’re the worst performer today. Even if you perform so badly that they have to kick you off the stage, you’ll have done it. More importantly, you’ll have performed with Yoongi in front of the royal family just as you’ve been wanting to.

It’s now or never.

You straighten up and let your shoulders roll back, tightening the grip on your instrument to end the trembles. You give a firm, curt nod to Yoongi, letting him know that you’re ready. 

He nods back and adjusts his position one last time. He meets your gaze one last time, lifting his head up and softly counting off for the two of you before dropping his head and striking the keys.

You count with him, listening as he begins the soft ballad. You only rest for a few measures, and then you’re to join him for everyone to watch and listen. You don’t want to turn around, but you know you’ll have to actually perform if you want any chance at winning.

So, you close your eyes. You let yourself feel the tempo. You try to imagine that you’re not on a stage in front of hundreds of people, but back in your clearing in the woods. You try to picture the night sky and the stars above you. You try to imagine that the wind blowing through your hair is the same cool air that kicked leaves into your hair and crunched under your feet. You try to imagine a Yoongi that doesn’t play the piano with you, but sits on a log with his own eyes closed as he listens to you play. 

And then it is your turn to play. 

Yoongi’s lone melody echoes in the air at the hold in the music. He looks to you, trusting you to continue on as it’s written in the piece. He knows you’re nervous, and he knows that this situation is quite literally a make or break for you. But he knows your talent, and he knows deep down that you want this more than you’re willing to let your anxiety rule your life. He knows that you can. He knows that you’re going to be just fine.

And then, the sound of your first note rings out as you drag your bow over the strings. Your eyes remain shut, but your face is relaxed in pure concentration as you focus on the music and not the crowd. Yoongi plays along with you, adding his own part to help guide and support the music and your thoughts.

And his playing puts you at ease, the familiar clacking of the keys furthering your mental paradise. It reminds you of his escape in the woods, a cabin where he can create without any disturbance. You can see the warm glow from his candles illuminating his face as he plays, head bowed as he lets himself feel the music that he’s creating. You can see his pleased smile when something comes together. You can see him so perfectly.

You don’t even notice yourself turning around, playing for the audience instead of only playing for Yoongi. You don’t pay attention to the hushed praise or the eyes that linger over you. You think of only one set of eyes that would bore holes into your head if he ever caught you out late at night. A pair of eyes that belong to the raven-haired, piano prodigy that plays alongside you as - not an acquaintance anymore, but - a friend. 

Perhaps, he is much more than just that as well.

The thought makes you smile, and you want nothing more than to see the real thing for yourself. No more imagining Yoongi as he plays, but you want to see him. How could you miss such a wonderful opportunity to make a great memory when it’s right in front of you?

So, you turn back to him, leaning into the music and opening your eyes. You watch him as he plays along with you, his gold buttons and trim shaking as he performs. His movements are intense, but the music is nothing but graceful. The way he strokes and fingers the keys, making each note just as important as the last. He’s completely invested into the music, and it makes you smile to see him painted this way.

For a moment, he looks up to watch you as well, and he catches you looking back. He’s shocked at first, glancing between you and the keys, and wondering if you’re actually playing with your eyes open. But as he continues to play, and he continues to catch your stare, he can only beam with pride. 

No one misses the smile that grows on the usually cold pianist's face, and they don’t miss the bright smile that adorns your own when you finally turn back to the crowd. Even as you continue to perform for the audience, you still have moments where it looks as though you’re only performing for him. And in your own way, you really are only performing for him.

But it’s because he’s encouraged you to perform for yourself first.

Your piece finally comes to an end, both you and Yoongi nodding to each other at the cut off. It’s clean and precise, and you can still hear it echo in the wind as people begin to cheer. And it takes you by surprise to hear their applause. You spent most of your performance focused on Yoongi, that you forgot you were performing for a real crowd.

You let your eyes roam over the crowd, taking in their pleased expressions. You take in their smiles and their words of praise. You look to the Prince and his Lady, and you swear it almost looks as though the Lady has tears in her eyes as she politely claps her praise.

“Wow! What a performance?!” The man from earlier cheers, clapping his own hands as he makes his way to you with the woman right behind him. He stops on your left and motions for everyone to calm down and waits until they’ve eased enough, “I think we can all agree that that was quite the show!”

“Very beautiful, indeed~” The woman agrees from your right, “Why don’t you take a bow?”

She and the man take a step back, leaving you to bow on your own. But how can you bow on your own when you didn’t perform on your own?

So you turn back to Yoongi, finding him preparing the bench for the next pianist. You wave to grab his attention, nodding for him to join you at the apron of the stage. He hesitates for a moment, knowing that this is your moment and that being the accompaniment is all he’s meant to be, but you insist.

He leaves the piano to join you front and center on stage, blood already rushing to his ears. He steps between you and the woman on your right, looking just as nervous as you probably do. You move your belongings to one hand so you can grab his, but he stops you. He gestures to you, smiling at the crowd as he patiently waits for you to bow. You oblige, placing your free hand on your chest as you bow to the crowd in front of you. And when you come up, it’s your turn to gesture to Yoongi for his own moment of recognition. You can tell he’s not used to being in his own spotlight, but he still has more performances under his belt than you. And when he finishes his bow, it’s him that makes the grab for your hand. He smiles, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles, before leading you into a bow together.

The crowd cheers you on, and when you stand up again it’s the man that announces this time, “Thank you both for your performance today!”

You bask in the moment, hand-in-hand with Yoongi for just a second longer before you both make your exit off stage for the next round of performers. As soon as you make it off the steps and back to the performers tent, you immediately drop Yoongi’s hand to throw your arms over his neck. It takes him by surprise, but he accepts it nonetheless. 

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” You cry, holding him tight.

“No need to thank me,” He assures you, letting his arms wrap loosely around your waist, “I was happy to do it.”

“No, you weren’t. Not for all of it.” You remind him, making him chuckle. You pull away just enough to look at him, and you cup his cheek with your free hand, “You helped me make my dreams come true today, Yoongi. That means so much to me, and there are only so many ways to say thank you. How else can I show my appreciation?”

He ponders for a moment, seemingly hesitant once again. Only this time, he says what’s on his mind, “Maybe, you and I can continue to be married even if you win?” He asks sheepishly, a tinge of red on his cheeks.

“Is that a marriage proposal? A real one, this time?” You tease, adding to the redness that’s already spreading over his face.

Even with the embarrassment he feels, he doesn’t let it stop him this time, “It is.”

You feel a mixture of happiness and embarrassment of your own at his answer. Of course, you’d love to marry him! You’d rather marry him than the man you were going to marry. You just can’t help how flustered the man makes you.

You use Yoongi’s hold on you to your advantage, loosely returning to his embrace and hiding yourself in his chest. He chuckles, but it’s cut short when you whisper for only him to hear, “Well, then I accept.” 

Yoongi lets the news sink in, pulling you tighter against him and hiding his face in your hair when it finally hits him. He can’t help but smile, “I’m so proud of you.”

He pulls back again, moving one of his hands to push back a stray piece of hair. He lets his hand rest at the back of your head, meeting your gaze. His eyes flicker to your lips, and you let out a sharp intake of breath. He studies you, your eyes and your face for any signs or refusal, but you don’t show any. If anything, you want to find out just as badly as he does.

He leans in, slowly inching closer to your face until you can feel his lips in front of yours. He hesitates, and you know he’s trying to give you one last chance to back out. But you don’t need a way out anymore. You lean forward, making the move to press your lips against his. You grab onto the nape of his coat, but it’s short lived.

“Yoongi-! Oh…” You both pull away, turning your heads to see the man from the stage tight-lipped as the woman taps his arms.

“Namjoon!” She scolds, obviously upset that he interrupted a moment.

“I’m sorry, Nari.” Namjoon apologizes to her, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. He looks to you and Yoongi and bows his head, “Sorry, you two…”

“It’s fine.” You assure him.

“Yeah, no harm done.” Yoongi agrees. He takes a step back and grabs your free hand before you can pull it back all the way, bringing it up to his lips to press a soft kiss to the back of it like a promise. He lovingly smiles at you, looking through his lashes, “We have time.”

You can feel the heat in your cheeks and you try to push it back down, but it’s almost impossible to push down the pride you have in this moment. You both have grown so much in the months that you’ve come to know each other, and that’s something you never thought would be possible. Even more so, you never thought that you would both fall for each other after the history you’ve created together. But you’re happy that you have.

“Miss Min!” Jeongguk calls. You both turn to the guard as he approaches, slightly worried, “There’s guests here to see you, Miss Min.”

“It’s Mrs. Min.” You correct, taking Yoongi by surprise. You notice and laugh, “Don’t give me that look when you just proposed to me!”

“So, you two admitted it!” Nari cheers, clapping her hands together in excitement.

“We did.” Yoongi confirms, squeezing the hand he still holds. He turns to Jeongguk and nods in the direction of the tent entrance, “Who wants to see her?”

“Her parents.” He answers.

You tense at the mention of your parents. You’d done so well putting the wedding, the crowd, and everything else behind you that you forgot about the consequences entirely. You can only imagine what they have to say to you. Even worse, what they may do to you after learning that you “married” without their knowledge, and left the wedding they arranged for you. You can only imagine the amount of trouble you’re about to be in.

“Hey-“ Yoongi shakes your intertwined hands, pulling you out of your thoughts, “We’ll talk to them together. I got you into this mess, and I’ll see that you get out of it one way or the other.”

“Here, I can take that for you-“ Namjoon offers, reaching out to take your violin out of your hands. You move to accept his offer, but both Yoongi and Nari try to intercept it before you can successfully hand it off to him.

Nari brings it to her chest, turning to Namjoon with a gentle smile, “I think I should take this one, Joonie.”

Her smile does nothing for him though, as he’s still very offended, “I’m not going to break it!” 

“I’d rather not take the chance.” Yoongi says, making you giggle.

Namjoon scoffs in response, crossing his arms over his chest, “It’s not like I can’t fix it.”

“We know, Joonie, but it’s probably for the best if you stick to your books.” Nari pats his arm. You know she means to comfort him, but the poor man doesn’t seem very comforted.

He pouts, “I feel very targeted.”

Yoongi chuckles and turns to Jeongguk, “Why don’t you lead us to them, Jeongguk? We probably shouldn’t keep the in-laws waiting.”

Jeongguk nods and turns to lead the way, Yoongi following after him with your hand held tightly in his. Before, you had both run away hand-in-hand from the danger your parents were bringing you, and now you’re walking towards it. 

You see your parents just outside the tent, your Father waiting patiently with his arm over your anxious Mother’s shoulders. Though, their mannerisms switch when they see you approach with Yoongi. You try not to shrink when you see them, but you know you can’t help but feel smaller after everything that happened with them. You can only hope that Yoongi is still just as resilient as he’d been earlier.

“Here she is, folks. A very talented daughter with her very talented husband.” Jeongguk announces, moving the small wooden barrier so you and Yoongi can exit the tent to properly greet them. He doesn’t seem to notice the tense situation, but you, Yoongi, and your parents don’t make a mention of it. He smiles, “Make sure to be back before your next performance, Yoongi.”

“Will do. Thank you, Jeongguk.” Yoongi nods. He exits the tent with you, keeping you close now that you’re in front of your parents who don’t seem very happy to be there. He bows to them as his greeting and nods to a clear space just a bit further away from the crowd and the performances, “Should we move somewhere just a bit more quiet?”

“Of course.” Your Father agrees, deciding to remain civil.

For now.

Yoongi leads the way, holding your hand through the crowd. You do your best to stay with him, but it’s hard to walk with people stepping on the back of your dress every now and then. One tug has you almost tripping onto the cobblestone beneath you, and it’s a good thing Yoongi has a tight grip on your hand to keep you from tripping entirely. 

“Here-“ He drops your hand in favor of grabbing the train of your dress. He bunches the fabric up in his hand until he has enough that it won’t get stepped on as you walk. You try to take it from him, but he keeps a tight hold on it. Instead, he wraps an arm around your back and places his hand on your waist to keep you close. His actions have the heat rising to your cheeks once again, and you can feel lightness in your chest just from having him take care of you.

You make it to the open area and Yoongi stops, turning you both around so you can properly speak with your parents. He doesn’t move his arm, nor does he drop your dress. He waits for them to speak.

Your Father stands tall, your Mother’s arm locked in his. His expression is stern, one you’ve become accustomed to in the past few months. Your Mother seems conflicted herself, but your Father’s expression is almost unreadable.

“I have almost no words to describe how I feel at this very moment.” Your Father says. This is how most of his “disappointment” speeches start, showcasing his own emotions to make you feel even worse. Where most men would find their emotions to be a weakness, your Father always managed to use his to his advantage. Especially if it meant he could sway a decision of yours. Only this time, there’s nothing he can sway anymore. This time, he’s the one that’s been swayed. “I’ve been humiliated in front of the public, taken advantage of by some swindler who bed my daughter, and lied to by my own kin. Have you no shame for what you’ve put me through?”

Shame. 

That hits you hard. 

You’d never planned to bring shame to your family name. Only pride and honor. You’d wanted to be the best violinist in the kingdom, not the worst daughter a set of parents could ask for. Not when they’ve given you so much. But you couldn’t afford to lose yourself either. You had an opportunity for you, and you took it. And while it may have been a selfish act wrapped in chivalry, it was still something that you’ve planned to do since the beginning. Something your parents had encouraged at one point as well.

“Father I never meant to hurt you-!” You try to explain yourself, but your Father raises his hand.

“I’m not finished,” He spits. You shrink back into Yoongi’s side, and he squeezes your waist. Your Mother gives your Father a pointed look, but he ignores her, “You’ve tainted my pride. I’m very likely going to be scorned for years because of your reckless actions!”

He’s not wrong. Everyone may be distracted by the competition today, and maybe even a few more days after that! But it will fizzle out, and then the vultures will come looking for something to tear into. They’ll tear into your parents, they’ll tear into you, and they’ll even tear into Yoongi. While his actions have brought you together and granted you an opportunity you didn’t think you’d have a second chance at, it’s created a domino effect. And sooner or later, all of the pieces are going to come crumbling down.

Just the thought of what people may say or do rattles you, and you can only hope that you win this competition. Otherwise, you’ll be defenseless for years to come. Forced to hide behind another to shield yourself from their tyranny. And your parents won’t have anywhere to hide.

Your Father’s anger is justified, but it doesn’t take the sting of his words away. Nor does it coming into the open help to dissipate his shaking voice, “And what’s worse is you’ve gone and done something so remarkable! How can I be mad when you’ve finally taken a stand and put your fears behind you?!”

It takes you a moment to process what he said. Had you heard that correctly? You turn to Yoongi, confused, but he’s just as confused as you are. You turn back to your Father in hopes of clearing the air, “What…?”

It’s your Mother who finally pipes up, a content smile on her face, “(Y/n)…you played so beautifully up there!”

“You watched me perform?” You ask, shocked to hear they’d been in the crowd. You hadn’t seen them from the stage, but you weren’t really looking at the crowd. You were far more focused on other things than scanning the crowd for familiar faces.

“Did you think we’d let our daughter run from her own wedding and not follow her?” Your Mother laughs. You’d thought that they’d disown you the moment you left the church. You thought after everything that happened, that they’d be more than willing to write you off and take their chances with the loss. But you never thought they’d come and follow you. “We watched the whole performance. Everything!”

“Though, I didn’t anticipate your husband would be up on stage with you.” Your Father grumbles, eyes glaring daggers at Yoongi. He didn’t know everything Yoongi had done for you. They still didn’t even know the truth behind that morning they found you with Yoongi. It isn’t right or fair for them to judge him on a lie! And if he’s to be your husband from here on out, then they’d need to know the whole truth.

“Right, about that-“ You start, but you’re stopped by Yoongi pulling away from you. He drops your dress, and you’re confused until he drops to his knees and lowers himself onto the ground.

“I’m sorry.” He apologizes, bowing as low as he can possibly go. 

“Yoongi-!” He’s showing respect to your parents on the basis of a lie, and you can’t let him apologize for something that isn’t entirely his fault. But Yoongi doesn’t let you stop him.

“I should never have encouraged her to marry me so soon and without your blessing,” he continues, “I had hoped to court her properly, but I couldn’t control myself with a woman like her. Someone so kind, so beautiful, and so talented. Please, forgive me.”

Your Father eyes him, his demeanor unchanging. You look between the two, and you’re honestly worried your Father might take the chance to kick him while he’s down. But he’s much too prideful a man for that.

“Get up.” Your Father demands. Yoongi does as he’s asked, standing up once again in the face of your Father. He stares Yoongi down, thoughts racing through his mind that you wish you could hear. But they only come to you in the version of skin meeting skin. A harsh slap being brought down against Yoongi’s cheek.

“Father!” You cry. Your arms move to comfort Yoongi, but his right comes out to stop you from coming any closer. The pianist keeps his head held high in the face of your Father, but he doesn’t retaliate.

Your Father sees his resilience and sighs, “Let’s make one thing clear, Min Yoongi. I don’t like you. I don’t approve of you marrying my daughter, I don’t appreciate you going behind my back with her to do so, and I don’t appreciate you making me look like a fool in front of a family with such a high status.”

Yoongi nods, “I understand, sir.”

“But I can appreciate the confidence that you’ve helped her build and the encouragement you’ve given her to do her best.” He admits, much to your surprise. He seems almost accepting, despite what he’d said. He sighs, “And I suppose I can’t ignore the fact that you do take care of her.”

“He really does!” You assure him, placing your hands on Yoongi’s arm.

“Will you really pay back her dowry?” Your Mother asks.

Yoongi nods, “It’s my duty as her husband to do so. Down to the last copper piece.” 

“If you do that and you continue to care for her and you make her happy, then-…” Your Father extends an open palm to Yoongi, “I suppose we’ll learn to accept this less than agreeable situation.”

Yoongi shakes his hand, and you can’t stop yourself from throwing your arms around your Father, “Oh, thank you, Father! Thank you!” You cry. You pull away, letting your hands rest on his shoulders, “I promise, I’ll make you proud.”

“I know you will.” He assures you, leaning down to place a kiss against your temple.

Your Mother squeezes in for her own hug, squeezing you tight before she returns to your Father’s side, “Go on. You shouldn’t loiter around here when there’s more performances to be had.”

“Right.” Yoongi agrees. He bends down to grab the fabric of your dress again, “We’ll come find you when she wins.”

“Yoongi! We don’t know that I’m going to win.” You remind him, cheeks hot with embarrassment from his praise.

“I’m confident you will.” He argues, a teasing smile on his face. He wraps his arm around you as he’d done before and bows to your parents, “Until later.”

“Until later.”

The two of you make your way back into the crowd, leaving your parents behind. Of all the ways that conversation could have gone, you didn’t think it would end like it did. 

“All things considered, I think that went very well.” You say to him, relieved that your parents weren’t entirely cross with you.

Yoongi nods his head in agreement, “I’m not dead, so I think it went pretty well.”

“Does your cheek hurt?” You ask, remembering that he didn’t let you check after your Father hit him.

He shrugs, “It stings, but that will go away before dusk.” He pinches your waist and you look at him, seeing a mischievous smile on his face, “I’ll have you for much longer.”

Your eyes widen in surprise, and your first reaction is to elbow him out of embarrassment, “Don’t be so cheesy! It’s weird.”

“Why not? How is it weird?” Yoongi laughs, chuckling at your expense.

“Because it’s you!”

He scoffs, “Am I not allowed to woo you? And here I thought you liked my charming wit.”

You roll your eyes, letting your arms cross over your chest, “There’s no need to woo your wife.”

“I beg to differ.” Yoongi argues. He comes to a stop only a few feet away from the performers tent and pulls you towards his front. You gasp in shock, and he smiles, leaning down to place his forehead against yours, “You just wait until this whole ordeal is over with, then I’ll sweep you off your feet and show you just how charming I can be~”

“Yoongi-!” You scold, hitting his chest for being lewd in public.

“I meant proper courting!” 

—-

As soon as it started, the competition finally came to an end. Many contestants performed, having traveled the kingdom from far and wide just for the occasion. Everyone did their best, and you can only hope that your best was enough for you. You stand patiently in front of Yoongi, brimming with nervousness and excitement all at once. Yoongi does his best to keep you calm, but even he’s anxious to know who would win.

The only people on stage are Namjoon - who you’ve come to learn is the warlock that “officiated” your marriage - and Nari. They talk to the crowd and entertain them as the Royal Family makes their decisions, Namjoon’s magic being what helps them to amplify their voices.

“Just remember, even if you lose, you still did exactly what you said you would.” Yoongi reminds you, hands rubbing up and down your arms as if he’s trying to warm you up.

“I know…” You try your best to listen to him, knowing that he’s right. But the sting of losing will still hurt in the end with or without him.

“Oh, what’s this? Thank you, Sir (name).” Namjoon suddenly says, his voice cutting through the hushed chatter of the crowd and the performers, “It would seem a decision has been made.”

“Here we go!” Someone squeals behind you.

“I’m so excited!” Another voice chimes in.

“I can’t wait to get up there when they announce my name.” Another boasts, making your breath hitch.

Yoongi pulls you into his chest and rests his head against yours, “Just breathe.” He encourages.

You do, closing your eyes and letting your head rest against his. No matter what happens, you’ll still have Yoongi either way. You’ll still have your parents, you’ll still have the confidence you’ve slowly built, and you’ll still have your violin. Losing will hurt, but maybe you’ll be okay.

“What am I going to do if I lose?” You ask, working to keep your breathing steady. It’s just so hard now that everything is starting to come together. And with it all coming in at once, it’s so easy to lose it all as well, “I’ve spent so long dreaming of doing this, and now it may not even happen.”

Yoongi wraps his arms around your front and sighs, “Then we’ll find a new dream for you.”

“With much insistence from Lady Yeeun herself, our new Royal Violinist is…” You can hear Nari pause, adding to the suspense of the moment. It almost kills you inside just waiting for her to call the name of someone that isn’t you. You just want her to rip off the bandaid and get it over with so you can get on with your life and find a new dream.

“Min (Y/n)!” Namjoon yells.

You can hear the crowd burst into applause, and the claps and whines of those around you. It takes you a moment to even register that it was your name they announced until Yoongi starts to shake you from side to side in excitement.

“You did it! I told you, you would win!” He yells, squeezing you and jumping up and down.

“I won?” 

“You won!”

“I won!” You repeat, the realization finally sinking in.

You turn around in Yoongi’s arms to throw your arms over his shoulders, squeezing him just as tightly as he squeezes you. All of your hard work paid off. Every stupid exercise, every extra minute spent awake, and every painful moment of disappointment finally got you to where you want to be.

And he was there for all of it.

“Why don’t we get our winner on stage with us to take a final bow?” Nari asks the crowd, earning more cheers and hollers.

“C’mon-“ Yoongi pulls back and takes your hand, leading you to the stairs that lead to the stage, “They’re waiting for you.” 

You hesitate, “Just me?” 

“Go!” He encourages, picking up the front of your dress and offering you a nudge in the right direction.

You grab the front of your dress and do as he says, walking on stage once more, but as a winner this time. You can see the Royal Family standing just off to the far side of the stage, Namjoon and Nari standing in the center and waiting for you. They welcome you in between them at center stage.

“Please, take another bow!” Nari encourages, she and Namjoon stepping to the side to let you have your moment.

You do, allowing yourself to emerge in the feeling of the applause and the cheers for your win. After years of practice and dedication, you can finally say that you’ve accomplished your goal.

You stand up with a shy wave to the crowd, Namjoon taking this opportunity to slide in next to you, “Congratulations on your win! How do you feel?”

“Speechless.” You answer, truthfully unsure of what else you could possibly say. There was no word to describe everything you feel, “I really have no words for how I feel at this moment. I’m just so overwhelmed with emotion.”

“Well, perhaps you could provide us with a song that will describe your feeling to us?” Nari suggests, opening the stage to you for a final encore. The crowd seems to enjoy this idea as well.

“Can I really?”

“You can.”

You turn to the stage stairs to grab your violin, but Yoongi is already 3 steps ahead of you. He’s already walking up the stairs with your violin in hand to bring it to you, a proud smile on his face. You accept it from him, but you grab his sleeve before he can let go.

He knows what you want without you saying a word and frowns, “This is your moment.”

“I want to share it with you.” You plead. Had it not been for Yoongi, you would have never gotten this far. Had it not been for Yoongi, then you would have went through with your marriage today. Despite all of the personal progress you made to get where you are now, you would’ve have it if not for Yoongi. “We did this together.”

He smiles, feeling a bit bashful. It’s hard to ignore your request with you looking at him like that. He can’t help but give in, “Which rendition would you like to play then, Mrs. Min? Major or Minor?”

“I think…” You ponder which version you like more. The version you heard forever ago, once upon a time. Or the version you and Yoongi have added onto in the years that you’ve grown. A minor key invokes those emotions that play at ones own heartstrings but a major key? A major key makes you feel light and airy, as if you’re on top of the world. At this moment, you feel as if you’ve ascended into the stars, shining brightly above with the rest of them. 

There’s only one answer to give him. 

“I think - Mr. Min - that I’m feeling major.”

~ Fin~

[thearmyprof]

Waiting for Sunflowers to Bloom

Rating: M

Pairing: Jin/Jungkook

Word count: ~17k (ch. 1: 3,455)

Chapter: 1/5

Genre: Fluff, Non-idol!AU, Fantasy, Fairy Tale

Warnings: No major warnings, see tags below for more details

Event: This fulfills the squares: Jungkook x Seokjin & Get Out Alive by Three Days Grace for the Sound of Music kpop writing bingo @kpopwritingbingo

Prince Jungkook was foretold to have a prosperous and fulfilling life, as long as he weathered the storms on the horizon first. Luckily, he has his trusted companion and best friend, Seokjin, and a wood full of fae folk to help him. A bedtime story about a kind-hearted prince that defeats evil, heals his people, and finds love along the way.

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44570485

Chapter List:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Tags: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Minor Violence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied Sexual Content, Fairy Tale with a Twist, Fairy tale remix, Nymph Kim Namjoon | RM, Dragon Jung Hoseok | J-Hope, Leprechaun Min Yoongi | Suga, Pixie Park Jimin (BTS), Changeling Kim Taehyung | V, Protective Bangtan Boys | BTS, minor character death

CHAPTER ONE.

Prince Jungkook was born under a set of auspicious star signs in the waning weeks of summer. The King and Queen of the Kingdom were elated to finally have an heir after many years of waiting. The people rejoiced, taking the prince’s birth as good tidings for the kingdom as a whole.

During the Harvest, the soothsayers were brought to read the fortunes of the royal family, as is the tradition of the people during the bountiful time of the year. The soothsayers, in a private audience with the King and Queen, foretold the prince would weather many storms, but his trials would ultimately bring glory and prosperity.

While the royal parents fretted over the hardships their son, only weeks old, was fated to have, they took solace in a foretold good outcome. Celebrations lasted all Autumn season in the kingdom, which was also blessed with a particularly plentiful harvest.

The first few months of Prince Jungkook’s young life were blissful. During the Winter Solstice, the fairies of the realm came to bless the new child. The fae blessed him with sweetness and innate beauty. The tree nymph blessed the prince with patience. The dragon blessed him with twin conviction and compassion. And finally, the leprechaun gifted the baby a pair of well crafted shoes to take his first steps in. As their fairy dust tickled his nose, Prince Jungkook giggled and cooed benevolently. The King, Queen, and subjects all sighed at the sweet-hearted prince and knew he would grow into a kind and wise leader someday.

Prince Jungkook’s first storm came the following springtime. While the realm blossomed and warmed, a terrible plague ripped through the lands. Soon, many succumbed, with the healers unable to find a cure for the often fatal disease. The Queen was one of scores who lost their life that year.

Although the prince was too young to understand, the kingdom was changed irrevocably. The King fell into a fit of melancholy in which he closed himself off from the world, only attending to those duties of utmost importance, leaving everything else to advisors and servants of the realm.

Prince Jungkook’s care was placed primarily in Nanny Yeonhi, an older woman who cared deeply for her ward. The two lived comfortably with their own retinue of servants in the prince’s wing of the castle. Here, the prince was insulated from much of the goings-on in the castle and the outside world.

The realm suffered dearly for many years after the plague decimated the population. Harvests and crafts were impacted from lack of a workforce. The economy hobbled along, unable to generate enough for trades with other kingdoms. The lack of decisive leadership further exacerbated these issues.

Relations with the fae folk and other kingdoms languished under the King’s absence. Soon, the nymphs and pixies were not attending to their blessings of the crops and weather. Not out of smite or laziness, but a lack of an invitation—something the fae need in order to use their magic in another’s boundaries. Babies, humans and animals alike, were born sickly. It was as if the King’s desolation had cast a wide shadow across the entire realm.

When Prince Jungkook was five-years-old, a young boy was sent to him from another wing of the castle. The boy was an orphan of a Duke who had died in the plague. The Duke’s estate fell into ruin in the years proceeding the Duke’s untimely demise. The boy was eventually sent to the castle to serve until he came of age. 

At ten-years-old, Seokjin was perhaps too grown up to be a companion for Prince Jungkook, but for the pair age did not seem to matter. Never did the older complain when giving additional tutoring lessons to the prince, assisting with tasks such as dressing the younger boy, or chasing him through the grounds. The pair did everything together, carefully tucked away in their wing of the castle under the watchful eye of Nanny Yeonhi.

~

The second storm of Prince Jungkook’s life began slowly, with dark clouds first gathering off on the distant horizon. The creep was so slow, even, that the prince did not even know he was in a storm until it was far too late to escape the torrential winds and pouring rains.

The King of the realm was convinced by his advisors to take a new bride.

The new Queen Hana brought new life to the castle. Her father, a king of his right in a neighboring kingdom, spared no expense at her dowry, sending a large retinue of servants, a small militia, and much in the way of goods and libations. 

The wedding was a grand affair in the summer of Prince Jungkook’s tenth year. It seemed the entire kingdom had turned out, with many grand celebrations both within the castle and without. During the ceremony and grand feast, Prince Jungkook was sat at the royal table on his father’s left hand side. It was the first time the prince was so near the King in well over a year. Prince Jungkook took solace in the proximity, even if his father did not deign to speak with him.

The Queen was sweetness and light. Her smile seemed to glow as brightly as the hundreds of candles they used to illuminate the hall. She even danced a song with Prince Jungkook, much to the delight of all the Lords and Ladies present. Even the King’s melancholy seemed temporarily abated as he smiled at his new bride.

After the month-long celebrations, life returned to normal in the prince’s wing of the castle. Prince Jungkook rarely saw the King and Queen and was never summoned to court for any reason. The prince, however, did not mind. He was mostly timid outside his small circle of people in his wing of the castle. He did not revel in attention being drawn to himself. He was happy to continue his tutoring lessons, practicing sword fighting and archery, and exploring the forests abutting the gardens of his castle wing.

Life, for Prince Jungkook, was peaceful. Little did he know of the storm brewing on the horizon.

~

“Your Highness!” Seokjin yells as he runs through the corridor, his light armor clanking as he goes. “Your Highness!”

“What is all this racket, Master Seokjin?” Nanny Yeonhi admonishes as Seokjin slides into the kitchens wildly looking around for the missing prince.

“His Highness has been summoned by the King,” Seokjin pants out, doubling over as he catches his breath. “Have you seen him?”

“I believe he is with his tutor now,” Nanny Yeonhi says with pursed lips. “This is probably just to do with the prince’s fifteenth birthday celebrations.”

“The King hasn’t summoned His Highness in so long,” Seokjin says, breathing more under control. “I must find him.”

Seokjin turns on his heel and heads to the library to find his prince.

“Do you think this outfit is enough, hyung?” the prince says, with his eye trained on the long mirror before him. He fidgets with his sleeves, a habit Seokjin has been trying to break him of when he’s nervous. “I don’t want to disappoint the King.”

“Let me just fix your hair a bit, Your Highness,” Seokjin stands behind the prince with a comb and practiced motions. Soon he has the prince’s long, unruly hair off his face with the top half of his hair in a bun. He settles the thin silver metal of the prince’s crown underneath the crown in a most pleasing way.

“You look as Prince Jungkook should, Your Highness,” Seokjin says, his eyes tracking up and down in the mirror.

Jungkook is wearing a simple silver blue hanbok with enough layers to denote his stature. Thankfully, he has not yet gone out riding or to the training yards, so he is still tidy and unmuddied. He thinks, as he often does, that the gods must be smiling down upon him.

“Prince Jungkook, dearest, don’t stand on formality, come, come,” Queen Hana coos. She sat regally on the Queen’s throne wearing a rich purple dress. Though her face wears a bright smile, she is still intimidating.

The King’s throne is conspicuously empty.

Jungkook rises from his bow and steps forward towards the Queen. Two steps behind him, just to his right, Seokjin mirrors his motions, per protocol. However, with only 6 steps left to reach the throne, Seokjin stops as is respectful for his standing in the court.

The Queen reaches out her hand, a small pout on her lips, to Jungkook. He swallows down a nervous turn in his belly and obliges her by resting his palm in hers. He tries to quell the voice inside his head that tells him, like this, he is trapped.

“Prince Jungkook, my heart, how have you been?” the Queen says, voice sweet like songbirds. She uses both her hands to hold his, caressing his knuckles.

“My Queen, I have been well,” Jungkook says. He prides himself that he does not sound as anxious as he feels.

“A little bird told me that our dearest Prince is turning fifteen in only a few weeks!” Queen Hana exclaims. “We must prepare celebrations in your honor. It is not everyday in this kingdom a royal prince comes of age!”

“You are too generous, Your Majesty,” Jungkook replies, looking down at their hands.

“Nonsense, nonsense,” the Queen says. “I have heard many good things of your growing up, dear Prince. You have grown into a fine young man.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Jungkook bows his head.

“I also hear we have Master Seokjin to thank for many of your accomplishments,” the Queen continues.

“Yes, Your Majesty, he’s been an invaluable companion to me these many years,” Prince Jungkook takes the opportunity to praise the older. “His skill in sword and bow have become unmatched in the castle.”

“Wonderful,” the Queen says, a smile splitting her face. “I think a reward for Master Seokjin is in order, don’t you?”

Jungkook, unsure of what she might mean, nods meekly. 

“Master Seokjin, step forward,” the Queen says, waving him forward with one of her hands.

Seokjin steps forward two steps and bows low. “Your Majesty does not need to reward me. Seeing Prince Jungkook growing in his own skills and coming of age well is reward enough for me.”

“Very commendable, indeed,” the Queen says. “Still, your father was a Duke, was he not?”

“He was,” Seokjin replies. Jungkook is the only one in the room who knows his companion well enough to discern the tension in his jaw, the tightness in his tone.

“And you have been of age for almost five years now, yes?”

“I have,” Seokjin says, his eyes still lowered. Jungkook, watching him, noting the tension in Seokjin’s frame.

“Well, I think being a simple companion, now that the Prince is coming of age, is no longer appropriate for you,” the Queen continues. “You are deserving of something more.”

“Your Majesty?” Jungkook asks. He feels his skin prickly with anxiety and wonders if she can feel it where their palms touch.

“I shall be promoting you to head of the Royal Guard,” Queen Hana presses on, ignoring the prince completely. “I believe that the time between now and the Prince’s celebrations will be sufficient to make the transition.”

“Yes, Your Majesty, thank you,” Seokjin says with another low bow.

Jungkook is bewildered by this turn of events. A part of him knows that this promotion is good for Seokjin, much more prestigious than his current post. However, a much larger part of him is already mourning the loss of his friend. The Royal Guard are stationed at the barracks at the front of the castle. To Jungkook, Seokjin might as well be relocating to the other side of the world.

~

“You must remember everything hyung has taught you, Your Highness,” Seokjin whispers to Jungkook.

The pair are hidden together in the darkness of night under a large comforter in the prince’s quarters. They are not touching, but close enough that Jungkook can feel Seokjin’s warmth. He longs to reach out a hand and grasp his friend’s in his own, but there is already too much uncertainty in the air.

“Yes, hyung, I’ll remember everything you say,” Jungkook murmurs.

Jungkook can barely make out the smile on his hyung’s face in the darkness.

“Now that you are coming of age, there will be many dangers ahead,” Seokjin says. “There will be more pressure, especially if the King continues his absences in the court.”

Jungkook nods. “I’ll be careful, hyung.”

“I know, this is not what you want, in your heart, my Prince,” Seokjin says. “We are bound by fate not our choosing, I’m afraid.”

“I know, hyung,” Jungkook says. He feels the heat of tears unshed and refuses to let them fall. Not on their last night together. “I’ll remember your words, hyung.”

When Jungkook wakes the next day there is a single parchment left on the pillow where Seokjin had lain the night before. On the parchment is a drawing of a sunflower and the single word, “remember.” Jungkook smiles and allows a single tear to fall before he tucks the note carefully into the book at his bedside.

The meaning of sunflowers is loyalty, longevity, and adoration.

~

In the year that follows, unease begins to spread in Prince Jungkook’s wing of the castle. Little does he know, the disquiet spreads throughout the rest of the castle and, therefore, the kingdom as well. The Prince, however, is distracted by his own loneliness as one by one, those important to him are dismissed or leave the castle. To further his own sense of isolation, he’s only been able to visit with Seokjin a handful of times. The visits are short and never enough.

Just week’s before Prince Jungkook’s sixteenth birthday, Nanny Yeonhi dies. Her illness and subsequent passing came as a shock to the young prince. The servants and physician explain that she was old, this was her time. Her body is sent off to her distant family, as is custom. Prince Jungkook is left completely alone.

~

“Your Highness, the sun set long ago, we should prepare you for sleep,” a middle aged servant says as Jungkook sits by the fountain in the garden just off his wing of the castle. 

“Momentarily,” Jungkook murmurs. He had spent the day thinking of a way to ask for the resources to create a small memorial for Nanny Yeonhi. He hadn’t come up with anything—yet. 

Jungkook pulls out a small folded parchment from inside his breast pocket. The paper is soft from being folded and unfolded and touched so often. On it the sunflower is somewhat faded. Jungkook runs the tips of his fingers lightly over the petals. Then he caresses the word “remember” gently. 

It had been at least two months since he last saw Seokjin. Even then, it had been in passing, when the prince was summoned for something or other. Jungkook feels a pang in his heart at the longing for his best friend.

The servant, undeterred, clears their throat. Jungkook sighs quietly, not wanting to seem put out, and replaces the note into his pocket before standing up to head back inside.

Jungkook is startled awake by a hand shaking his shoulder.

“Your Highness, Your Highness, please wake up,” the whisper of a voice sounds familiar and anxious.

Jungkook groans and half-opens his eyes. The room is dark, lit by a solitary candle on the bedside table. Standing over him is Seokjin.

“Hyung?” Jungkook mumbles.

“Please, Your Highness, wake up,” Seokjin says again. “Prince Jungkook?”

“What’s happening?” Jungkook feels a trickle of dread as his mind becomes more awake. “Why are you here?”

“You must away, now,” Seokjin says. He turns towards the chests and cabinets along the wall of Jungkook’s bedroom. He has a sack that he’s adding some clothing to.

Jungkook sits up and rubs his eyes. “Why must I go? Where am I to go?”

“You’re in danger if you stay here,” Seokjin says as he brings a change of clothes for the prince. “I must get you away quickly. I will help you through the woods as far as I can go without it being too suspicious.”

Nothing is making sense. Jungkook is too tired to decipher his friend’s logic.

“I have put a map in your bag and some provisions to get you to the border. If you can get across the border, you might find refuge there. You are so likable, they will certainly help you.”

“I don’t understand,” Jungkook says.

“I’ll explain more once we are away from here, Your Highness.”

Seokjin helps Jungkook dress in dark clothes, fit for longer travel.

“We would go faster on horse but I don’t want to raise suspicions with the horses being gone,” Seokjin says as they head out the garden towards the woods.

“Won’t the alarm be raised once they find me not in bed?” Jungkook asks.

“No, I have already dealt with that manner. If my plan works, they won’t look for you ever again.” Seokjin’s words make Jungkook shiver involuntarily.

The woods are dark, so dark. The pair decide not to risk a light, though. They want to put as much distance as they can under the cover of the pitch blackness. They orient themselves by checking constellations whenever they get visibility through the trees. Jungkook is just glad they have dry weather and clear skies for their journey.

The year is well into autumn and the air is crisp, but cold. Seokjin explains at some point during their walk that he packed Jungkook extra furs for later, when the winter weather hits. Jungkook sincerely hopes he is settled somewhere sheltered before that happens.

The first night of walking passes in an adrenaline fueled blur. Both fell, tripping over tree branches and other invisible obstacles in the dark, on numerous occasions. By the time dawn’s light began filtering through the trees, they are muddy, sweaty, and generally worse for wear.

They find a large rock to take shelter under to nap for a few hours. When they wake again, Seokjin hunts down some rabbit for them to cook and share. Having put some distance between themselves and the castle seems to have relaxed Seokjin some.

“Hyung, how long must I stay away?” Jungkook asks after they finish eating.

Seokjin eyes the prince warily, then sighs. “I don’t know. There’s a possibility you might not be able to come back.”

Jungkook nods at this. As much as Jungkook wants to be surprised by this comment, he’s not. He had been feeling like his days in the castle were tenuous at best. The King has been absent for too many years, the Queen has too strong of a hold over the court. Despite her lavish platitudes, Jungkook knows she despises him, the legitimate heir to the throne. A throne he has never had the desire to sit on.

“Can you come with me, hyung?” Jungkook asks. He also already knows the answer to this, but asks anyway.

Seokjin’s eyes hold all the sadness of the universe in them. Jungkook regrets asking.

“I must go back, it’s the only way to keep you safe, Your Highness,” the elder says.

Jungkook nods, not trusting his voice.

After three nights of travel, which they primarily conduct after dark, Seokjin can go no further. He must turn around and find his way back in order to convince the royal court not to come looking for the prince. Jungkook is not sure how Seokjin is going to do that, but the elder promises that it will be convincing enough.

“After our parting, you are a prince no longer. Go live your life as you have always wanted, Your Highness,” Seokjin says with a kind smile.

Jungkook knows he means well, but he never intended to live any life, as a prince or not, without Seokjin by his side. He’s not going to say that now, though. Not when the elder has done so much for him.

“Remember, Your Highness, you have a light inside you. Those with pure intentions and pure hearts will be drawn to your light. Just be yourself, full of kindness and care, and you will never want for friends,” Seokjin says. He has his hands resting on the prince’s shoulders in a warm embrace.

“I’ll remember your words, hyung. I remember all of your words,” Jungkook says with conviction. “Please, be safe, and come to me when you can. I will be waiting for you. I will always wait for you.”

After a long kiss to the prince’s brow, Seokjin turns and flees back into the forest toward the kingdom Jungkook can no longer call home.

Chapter 2 >

[star-my]

BTS Fic Recs ☆ Tumblr (i)

These are all available on tumblr as of April 2024. Some are likely crossposted on ao3 as well.

~Ao3 RECS HERE~ ~Recs (ii)~ ~Recs (iii)~

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If any authors tagged here wish to be removed/untagged, please lmk! | Shoutout to @ggukkiereads who does an amazing job creating rec lists, which helped me find many of these fics

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OT7/Multi

☆ BTS Reactions by @dreamescapeswriting | SFW + NSFW |

☆ BTS Scenarios by @btsjfans | SFW + NSFW |

☆ BTS Scenarios by @bulletproofwhalien | NSFW + SFW |

☆ BTS Scenarios by @salvejoon | SFW + NSFW |

☆ BTS Scenarios by @sunshine-and-bangtan | SFW + NSFW |

☆ Desperado Series by @heartbeatan | Mafia AU | PJM + JJK + KTH (in progress) | 60-160k(+) each

☆ The Company series by @btsmakesmehappy | Agent AU | 25-37k(+) each (in progress)

☆ Mafia BTS Reactions by @ninetailedfoxmanchi | Mafia AU (+Yandere AU) |

☆ #CodeBTS series by @yminie | Mafia AU | 1-12k each

Kim Namjoon

☆ The Ghost in Apartment 1403 series by @notsoguiltykpop | Ghost AU, Supernatural AU, Roommate AU? | ?k

☆ beauty & the bookworm by @jungshookz | E2L Library AU, Uni AU | 20k

☆ la vie en bonsai by @jungshookz | S2F2L Neighbours AU, Baker AU | 38k

☆ The Seven Nights series by @theunknowncryptid | SMAU, Mafia AU | 13k

☆ real magic by @heretobbtstrash | S2F2L Single Parent AU, Coffee Shop AU, Coworkers AU | 17k

Kim Seokjin

☆ {Unavailable}

Min Yoongi

☆ Take One by @untaemedqueen | Pornstar AU | 24k

☆ The Deal series by @untaemedqueen | Mafia AU | ?k

☆ suit & tie by @jungshookz | CEO AU, Office AU, Coworkers AU, PA AU | 21k + drabbles

☆ hellish by @jungshookz | E2L Demon AU, Roommate AU | 22k

☆ strike a chord by @snackhobi | S2L Pianist AU, Bar AU | 16k

☆ straight shooter by @snackhobi | F2L/E2L Cyberpunk AU, Dystopian AU | 14k

☆ devil with the mint hair series by @theharrowing | E2FWB Brother's BFF AU, Stoner AU | 11k+

☆ a wager of lords and love by @hisunshiine | S2L Historical AU, Arranged Marriage AU | 7k

☆ daechwita by @chemicalpink | Daechwita AU, Assassin AU | 10k

☆ stay by @luffles424 | Daechwita AU, Assassin AU | 3k

☆ daechwita by @se0kie | Daechwita AU | 4k

☆ make me proud by @moonscriptsx | Established Relationship AU, Canon Idol-verse | 6k

☆ by its cover by @kittae | S2L Cat Dad AU | 2k

☆ misfortunately, yours by @sor-vette | S2F2L Dark Fae AU, Dark Fantasy AU | 32k

☆ mixtape by @jungblue | F2L Uni AU, Radio AU | 15k

☆ cyberslut by @kimnjss | SMAU, Uni AU, Fboy AU | ?k

☆ alive aha fxck by @softyoongiionly | F2L Neighbours AU, Vampire AU | 43k

☆ a brew of wings by @inkedtae | S2F2L Dragon AU, Witch AU | 10k

☆ fury of their scales by @kpopisthereasonihavenolife | Dragon AU | 18k

☆ inheritance series by @jincherie | Hybrid AU | 21k

☆ tuxedo series by @whatifyoulivelikethat | Cat(-shifter?) AU, Roommates AU | ft JJK | 49k+

☆ Assuage series by @btsqualityy | Omegaverse AU, Werewolf AU | ?k

☆ show by @httpjeon | Pw/oP ft BTS | 2k

☆ drip by @here2bbtstrash | Pw/oP | 5k

Jung Hoseok

☆ midnight confessions by @snackhobi | BFF2L Coworkers AU, Office AU, Buzzfeed Unsolved AU | 27k

☆ the bride of ashmedai by @jeonggukingdom | Demon AU, Arranged Marriage AU | 13k

Park Jimin

☆ The Bird Cage series + The Lion's Den series by @untaemedqueen | S2L Mafia AU | ?k

☆ Set It Off series by @btsqualityy | Mafia AU | ?k

☆ the hunt by @httpjeon | Shifter AU, Fantasy AU | 8k

☆ lovebug by @httpjeon | Hybrid AU | 12k

Kim Taehyung

☆ Pied Piper by @untaemedqueen | Mafia AU, Established Relationship AU | 10k

☆ maybe i do series by @chateautae | Arranged Marriage AU, Chaebol AU, CEO AU | 410k + drabbles

☆ kinda hot by @kimnjss | BFF2L SMAU, Uni AU, Fboy AU | ?k

☆ nip it in the bud by @opaljm | Brother's BFF AU, Piercing AU | 10k

☆ heatwave series by @curly-bangtan | F2L Roommate AU | 12k

☆ under the covers by @jessikahathaway | Agent AU | 23k

Jeon Jungkook

☆ heavy lifting by @snackhobi | Coworkers AU | 13k

☆ Miss Vagabond by @bubblesuga | F2L Gamer AU | 8k

☆ blizzard by @curly-bangtan | S2L Roommates AU | 16k

☆ Sparkle by @btsmosphere | F2L Roommates AU | 3k

☆ Hands-On Learning series by @ladyartemesia | Uni AU | 5k

☆ kiss it better by @jincherie | Uni AU, Sports AU, Cheer AU | 12k

☆ ghosts just wanna have fun by @sugaxjpg | Ghost AU, Supernatural AU, Uni AU | ft MYG + KTH | 20k

☆ tell me your secrets (i'm all ears) by @jinpire | Uni AU, Hybrid AU | 7k

☆ under the bridge by @jincherie | Hybrid AU | 11k

☆ Swipe right by @ppersonna | BFF2L Tinder AU | 9k

☆ overtime by @cupofteaguk | CEO AU, Office AU, PA AU, Coworkers AU | 12k

☆ I won't stop you series by @imsarabum | Vampire AU, Fantasy AU, Office AU, Coworkers AU, CEO AU, PA AU | ?k

☆ life eternal by @jungkookiebus | Fae AU | 9k

☆ hotter than hell series by @chateautae | Demon AU | 136k

☆ Hellblazer series by @jungkookiebus | Demon AU, Constantine AU | ?k

☆ agent of love series by @ppersonna | SMAU, Agent AU | ?k+

☆ strawberry kisses series by @kimnjss | SMAU, Brother's BFF AU, Tinder AU | ?k

☆ drag me down (to hell) series by @kimvtae | Mafia AU, Single Parent AU | 58k (abandoned)

☆ Concealed Weapon by @gimmesumsuga | Mafia AU, Husband AU | 10k

☆ hate sex by @yeoreos | FWB Pw/oP | 4k

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☆ @yminie's masterlist

☆ @yoonia's masterlist

[sailoryooons]

fae au where human oc who doesn't know that she works in a normal looking restaurant but it's exclusive only for faeries to formally offer their human mates a lifetime in fae world also serves as common place for faes. possibly a fluffy soft fae yoongi? idk what to do with him but i trust you 😅

❀ Pairing: Fae!Yoongi x human!reader

❀ Summary: Every day, Yoongi works at the coffee shop in his little corner of the world. Every day, you come in and order the same thing, sitting in the same booth. The only problem is, Yoongi is pretty sure you don’t know that you’re one of the few humans in a faerie coffee shop. 

❀ Word Count: 1,249

❀ Genre: Urban fantasy, secret crush, pining 

❀ Rating: SFW

❀ Warnings: Light pining, Yoongi has an unspoken crush on reader, that’s really it 

❀ Published: August 20, 2023

❀ A/N: Hi anon - I am so stupid and I did not realize until I finished your entire request that you asked for reader to work at the coffee shop and not Yoongi. Please accept my sincerest apologies, I got them switched around and wrote this entire thing with Yoongi as the worker and reader as the patron. I hope that this will work anyway, but please no I am so sorry for getting it wrong, I had to edit this author’s note because I did not realize I swapped it until I went to post this just now. AGGHHHH I’M SO MAD AT MYSELF LMAO. 

❀ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

| Masterlist | Ask |Hali’s Happy Agust |

“Have you guys ever been sued by Coffee-Mate?”

Yoongi looks up when he hears your voice at the counter. He nearly spills the matcha latte in his hand, not expecting to see you, ready to order. Usually, Yoongi sees you come in. He’s always ready for it, looking up as you enter the room like clockwork. The times that you catch him off guard are few and far between, his senses always alerting him to your presence before you do. 

Today, though, he’s a little bit busy. With Hoseok out on vacation, it’s just Yoongi and Jungkook manning the shop and Jungkook is better behind the scenes baking than up front taking orders. It’s left to Yoongi to make all the coffees this morning, and of course, everyone in the world seems to be at Coffee Mates on an early Saturday.

“Uh,” he tries to put together a sentence, thoughts pulling together sluggishly at the sight of your pretty smile and vanilla perfume. He swears when he goes home to fall asleep at night, he smells vanilla. “Not that I’m aware of. I’d have to ask Jin.”

“Hmm, seems like a conflict of interest.” 

Yoongi’s mouth quirks a bit as he fastens the top to the matcha in his hand and slides it on the serving counter to Namjoon. The gentry fae nods in thanks at Yoongi and shoots you a raised brow before looking back to Yoongi, a silent question. Yoongi gives the tiniest shake no before turning back to you as Namjoon sighs and retreats. 

Namjoon has been trying to get Yoongi to ask you out on a date for the better half of a few months. Every day you come to Coffee Mates at the same time, with the same order. You always sit in the same booth, which Yoongi might have put a glamor on to keep it open for you, and you always pop open your book to read for hours, coffee in hand. 

Yoongi supposes he could ask you out. You’re friendly enough and you seem to enjoy what few interactions you have. He’s caught you looking at him at least once or twice, though he worries it’s because his glamor has dropped in your presence or you’re seeing a waver in the magic that hides the nature of most of the shop. 

Because unlike most patrons at Coffee Mates, you are blissfully unaware of all the magic that surrounds you. 

At first, Yoongi thought it was a joke. Humans don’t just come to this coffee shop without knowing what it is. A bridge between worlds, a little haven for faerie suitors to offer their human counterparts an invitation to Faerie. Or for fae like Namjoon and Jimin, a place to hangout among other creatures of their kind.

Coffee Mates welcomes all fae creatures and their human counterparts, which is why you’re unusual. You have no faerie partner, no knowledge of magic. You don’t notice the floating lights in the shop or the pointed ears hidden behind Yoongi’s dark hair. A steaming cup of hot chocolate levitates just a few feet away from where you stand now as Taehyung draws on a napkin, and you’re none the wiser. 

It makes little sense. But it doesn’t have to. The patrons and the workers of the cafe have accepted you all in some unspoken agreement. Watching you curiously, making eyes at Yoongi whenever you laugh particularly hard at something he says. 

“Almond latte?” Yoongi asks, already typing in your order on the screen. You hum and nod, handing over cash. Yoongi goes through the motions of putting it in the register, but unknown to you, the money always appears in your wallet once more. He’s been pretending to accept it for weeks now, unable to bring himself to charge you. “Give me ten.”

“Hmm, I think I’ll only give you nine.”

He smiles. “Challenge accepted.” 

You leave the counter and sit in your booth. Yoongi watches you from the corner of his eye as he makes your drink, hands memorizing every ingredient and heating it just the way you like it. Normally when Yoongi makes the drinks, he uses magic to help him. He gets much more done that way, but with yours, he always does it by hand. Takes his time to froth the cream for the design on top, always careful when he pours in the cream to make a leaf, or a heart, or something else cute on the top of your coffee. 

Yoongi likes to personally bring it to your table. Every time that he does, you chide him and insist that you can come to the counter. He doesn’t mind, though. It gives him a moment to stretch his legs and escape the heavy hum of machinery and the buzzing energy of magic. 

Today, you’re leaned against the window, an open book in your hands when he approaches. You sense him and look up, smiling and shaking your head as you snap the book shut. “Eight minutes exactly.” 

He smirks. “When have I ever let you down?”

“You couldn’t possibly, Yoongi. You are singularly gifted in making my day.”

Yoongi gestures to your book to hide the fact that he’s blushing from the tip of his ears to his cheeks.  “What are you reading today?” 

“It’s a romance book about soulmates.” That throws him for a loop. If you notice the way he blinks in surprise, you don’t show it. “It’s a really fun read. Do you believe in soulmates?” 

He swears half the cafe turns to look at the two of you. Namjoon leans a little out of his booth, tilting his head to eavesdrop. Taehyung has dropped his pen and placed his chin in his hand, watching with a goofy grin on his face. 

Of course the entire cafe full of sharp-hearing creatures is listening now, interested in your mention of soulmates. Yoongi clears his throat awkwardly, pulling on his apron. “I guess?”

“You guess?”

“I don’t see why not?” 

“Hmm.” You look him up and down and for a second, he swears you see right through his glamor. See down into the core of him, heartbeat thumping a two-syllable rhythm: soulmate soulmate soulmate. “I hope to find mine one day.”

“I think you will.”

“Yeah?”

Yoongi feels his cheeks warm. Chews on his lower lip a little as he nods. “I definitely think you will.” 

“Thanks, Yoongi.”

Everyone watches him return to the counter. He hides from their gazes by busying himself with wiping down one of the machines even though he could flick his fingers and be done with it. He needs the distraction to steady his hands and breathing. 

Yoongi certainly believes in soulmates. The fact that you believe in soulmates sets him on fire. Ignites something in him that is nervous and excited. Something like hope, softley burning. For faeries, soulmates are quite common. It’s why Jin made the cafe in the first place, a haven for faeries to help bridge the world between the fae and their sometimes human mates.

When Yoongi looks up at you, rain splattering on the window, crowning your head, he thinks maybe he will take Namjoon’s advice, finally. Maybe he will ask you out on that date he’s been dreaming about. Because if you believe in soulmates, maybe you can believe in magic.

And maybe you can believe that the reason you’ve found this little invisible coffee shop is because your soulmate makes you almond lattes every morning. 

[jemshopes]

I’ve Found You, Dearest [taegi]

you ever think about fae yoongi, who, before he was even born, had been promised in marriage to the tyrant king of the fae realm? to protect him from his fate, he's hidden in the human world, given to a family who were unable to have children of their own. and so he grows up, ignorant of his heritage, of any magic, for that matter. he's beautiful, people always remark on it in wonder. he doesn't look like his parents, they say. how on earth did they managed to produce such a handsome boy when they're both so homely?

but he grows up well. happy. he's magnetic. people can't help but be drawn to him, thus he's never short of friends. and the affinity he has with music is nothing short of enchanting. reality stops when he plays, when he sings. and when he dances... oh, how he dances. there's no one else in the room when he dances. surrounded by people that might as well not exist, he sways on the dance floor beneath the lights that paint his skin a hundred different hues. no human can ever find words to describe his grace, his poise, the ease he's at within his own skin.

and yet... while yoongi is happy, he knows something is missing. he can feel the disconnect between himself and everyone else. it's not that he realises he's different. far from it, in fact. he believes he's entirely ordinary. but he feels something is missing all the same. even when he's happy, even when he falls in love, when he laughs with his friends. 

at first, when he realises his preference for both genders, he thinks that might have been what was missing. but the feeling stays. then, when he first falls in love, he thinks that might have been what was missing. but the feeling doesn't go away. the only time he forgets it is when he pours himself into his music, when he dances in clubs, when he performs here and there at bars.

his friends complain when he suggests they do karaoke. you just want to show off. you'll upstage us all. but they still go with him whenever he asks. and that is the only time he's truly felt complete connection with them--with anyone--when they're singing together, dancing.

or, at least, he thought it was complete until the night he meets taehyung, their eyes locking from across the crowded dance floor. at first, they only watch each other, yoongi still half in his own world, taehyung leaning against the bar.

he doesn't realise he's moving toward taehyung until he's right in front of him, breathless and wide-eyed. taehyung is different. he can feel it and it's not just because of the alcohol buzzing in his veins. it's not his imagination. taehyung is different and he can't explain it. when taehyung moves, when taehyung smiles, when taehyung talks, when they stumble into yoongi's apartment later that night, tongue and teeth and roaming hands, it's different and he doesn't know why. when taehyung lowers him onto the bed, when their clothes come off, he touches yoongi so carefully. not in the shy way other people touch him, in awe of him for reasons he still can't grasp. not in the clumsy, inept way of the inexperienced.

he isn't sure he's ever had sex and felt so completely like someone understood him. there's always something, too gentle, too hard, an unwelcome bite, too much tongue, not enough, doing everything right and yet still missing some spot even yoongi can't explain how to find.

it's not that the sex wasn't good or great or amazing. it's just... not this. not taehyung. and he realises, in the moment his back arches and he swears he sees shimmering gold in the air around them, that the disconnect he's felt for so many years has vanished.

it's not just the sex. it's taehyung's laugh, the way they talked effortlessly, the way he smelled, the love they shared for music. it's everything. it's complete connection. and he's never felt so at home.

the next day he wakes up to find his apartment empty, the only trace of taehyung the lingering smell of him on yoongi's skin and a note penned in scrawling gold on the inside of his wrist.

i found you, dearest. now find me.

***

Although yoongi doesn’t know it, the tyrant king has finally found him.

[colormepurplex2]

Flowers of Fate | Cedar & Clove

↳ UnseeliePrince!Yoongi x Human!f.Reader (ft.xUnseelieGuard!Jungkook x SeeliePrince!Jimin x WoodNymph!Namjoon) ⤜ Strangers to Bonded Mates ⤜ Rating: MA 🔞 ⤜ WC: 24,720 ⚠️ Adult humor, crass language, blood, violence, torture/being held captive, minor character deaths, first-time vaginal sex, not-so-first-time vaginal sex, nipple play, marking/biting, mfmm scene, kissing, guys kissing, blow job, cum swallowing, creampies, things get emotional

Next Chapter⇾ ⇽Previous Chapter ◅ Back to series masterlist

Everything hurts.

It’s a level of pain you’re only vaguely aware exists. There’s been nothing like it before in your life. Searing heat and biting cold, a combined mix of warring sensations. Even the light brush of your hands and the push of fabric against your skin has you screaming in pain.

“An iron blade laced with foxglove,” Joon gasps, jerking back from examining the wound in your side. Your shirt is shoved up under your breasts, leaving your side exposed. “Vile, utterly despicable heathens! She is just Fey enough for it to be on the edge of killing her.”

After you managed to get out that Yoongi had been taken, Mini and Joon sprang into action, getting you and JK inside. Whatever was on the dining table is now on the floor, cleared off with a sweep of Joon’s arm. You can feel JK lying beside you, the table jerking sporadically under you from his movements.

“Leave me alone. I’m fine! Stop that!” JK snarls, jerking so hard the table shudders an inch to the side.

“Asshole,” Mini grunts. “Yoongi would skin me alive if you die. I was just making sure the wounds were healing.”

The table trembles under you again as JK jerks upright and quickly turns so he can look at you. “I’m not the one you should be worried about!”

“Right. Can you help her? What can I do?” Mini asks, ignoring JK and directing his question to Joon.

Joon moves around the table, drifting in and out of your line of sight. “You have a minor ability in healing. Can you try to stitch the inner tissues? We must stop the bleeding before I can administer anything to combat the foxglove. Otherwise, it will just leech right back out of her body.”

Mini makes a distressed noise. “A very minor ability. But, the sun is up now, so I may be able to do that…it will not be pretty, though.”

“Just do it,” Joon commands, his voice drifting further away. “The wound still has traces of the poison, so be mindful of how long you are touching.”

Your eyes flutter as you try to focus on JK looming over you. “Hey there, Beautiful. I know it hurts, but we’ll need you to try not to scream so loud, okay? I’m going to help Mini here by trying to keep you quiet. Just in case those assholes come back through the area. Is that okay?” 

Tears leak from the corners of your eyes, slipping into your hair. You’re unsure if you can form words to answer him even if you want to, so you just drop your chin and try to nod, your lips quivering with a whimper. JK brushes tears from your cheeks and smoothes a hand over your blood-matted hair. He maneuvers himself so he’s on his knees beside you.

Mini takes a deep breath before bracing his hip against the table's edge. “You are going to feel my magick, and your instinct will be to fight it…please do not. I need to use it to help.” You try to give him a nod, too, but the pain makes your chin jerk up instead of down, a pitiful mewl coming up your throat.

Joon’s voice grows louder as he returns to the table, “Any day now, Jimin!”

Jimin gently presses one of his hands against your belly. “Do not rush me.” Jimin lays his other hand on your right ribs, just above the stab wound, which is still steadily oozing blood. You make a miserable noise as his hand moves slowly down, and the tips of his fingers brush over it, eliciting a flare of burning pain. “I am sorry,” he whispers before pushing the blunt end of his index finger into your gaping flesh.

It’s agony, a nightmare that has come to life. Your eyes flash wide, and you gag, choking on a guttural scream which JK muffles with a hand over your mouth. He presses his other hand against your shoulder, trying to keep you from thrashing too much as Jimin probes further into the wound.

Even with JK’s hand pressed firmly over your mouth, your screams must still cause him to worry as he speaks out. “You’re hurting her,” he grumbles, cutting eyes like daggers at Jimin. “Can’t you be more careful?”

Jimin gives JK a withering look, slightly baring his teeth. “This is not light work, but I am trying to be as delicate as possible. I need to be closer to the end of the wound if I hope to knit the tissues properly. Now, if you would be so kind, shut the fuck up and hold her still.”

The next several minutes are a bit fuzzy, if only because all coherent thoughts cease to exist in a body-wide short circuit. Your heart must’ve stopped at some point because the next thing you’re aware of is JK straddling your hips with his hands planted firmly against your sternum, forcing compressions against your already aching body. You shudder and jerk under him, eyes blinking rapidly, tongue thick against the roof of your mouth.

“Oh, Seven Hells, you’re okay! You’re alive!” He scrambles off you, making the dining table rock alarmingly as he drops back down on the surface beside you. “Namjoon! She’s back—hurry with that poultice before she goes dark again!”

Namjoon’s warm, brown eyes fill your vision. “Hey there, Beautiful. You gave us quite the scare,” he chuckles awkwardly. “I have something I need you to drink and something else I will press over the wound in your side. They will work together to counter the effects of the foxglove and give your body a chance to heal, okay?”

You can only make a soft noise, hoping it suffices as a response of acquiescence. “I’ll help,” JK says, hopping off the table and coming around the other side. He uses gentle pressure and careful movements to lift you so you’re leaning back on him in a reclined position. “Don’t need you choking on anything.”

The concoction that Namjoon pours into your mouth, with JK’s help, tastes like ripe cherries and honey. You cough a little, trying to work the thick substance down your dry throat. “Water,” you gasp, holding back a gag that would surely bring the mixture back up. 

Namjoon steps away, returning quickly with a cup of water JK helps you to drink. Your shirt is still tucked under your breasts, giving Namjoon easy access to dress the wound with an earthy-smelling paste. “Mini was able to knit the inner flesh back together fairly nicely, if I do say so myself. The scar should be minimal, but we must ensure that your system is free of foxglove before we go planting new seeds. It is a good thing you are still so new to the bond. If this were anyone else, I do not know that we could have helped.” He gives a cursory glance in JK’s direction, his eyes lingering on the black stain of blood crusting the shoulder of his shirt. “You should let me place some of this on your shoulder, too.”

 JK wrinkles his nose. “Nah, I’m good. It was just a scrape. Piss poor shot on their part. Lucky for me. I’m healing just fine.”

“Stubborn as always,” Namjoon murmurs, offering you a strained smile as he begins smearing the thick paste on your side. He wraps your middle with a stretch of linen to keep the medicine in place. “Let us get her into bed to rest, JK. Then you can share with us what exactly happened so we can decide what to do next.”

The pain in your side subsides substantially, reduced to a soft, throbbing ache. “Where is Mini?” you mumble, realizing he’s nowhere to be seen as JK slides his arms around you to carry you to the bedroom.

The shoulder under your arm kicks up slightly in indifference. “Outside, I think. Joon will get him, don’t worry about that asshole. How are you feeling now?”

You wince as he takes your weight off the table, your side pinching with the movement. “Better, I think. What was that, exactly?” You gesture vaguely with your other hand toward your exposed middle.

“Iron dagger infused with foxglove essence. Nasty business, meant for killing. If you hadn’t stepped in front of me…” JK trails off, clearly uncomfortable. “Thank you,” he finally whispers. “You saved my life. I probably don’t deserve it, considering I let them take him.”

Everything is still a bit blurry. It all happened so fast. “You didn’t let them do anything. We’ll get him back,” you swear to JK as he settles you on the bed, tucking you under the sheets and propping the pillows behind you. “I can—I can feel him. But, there’s something there, something in the way.” You press trembling fingers over your heart. “It’s like a thick fog is separating us.”

“But he’s okay, right? I shouldn’t have listened to him.” The desperation in JK’s voice has your eyes watering, your nose burning as you try not to choke on the palpable emotional dread in the air.

You want to tell him yes, but you can’t bring yourself to lie or instill a sense of false hope. “I-I don’t know if he’s okay. Alive, yes, but…” you trail off, swallowing down the bitter taste of uncertainty.

JK grunts, dropping his eyes from yours and picking at the skin around his fingernails. “Well, at least there’s that. It’s got to be enough for now.”

Jimin clears his throat from the doorway, drawing your and JK’s attention. “Feeling well enough to talk?”

Throwing a tired hand up, JK gestures for Jimin and Namjoon to enter the room. Namjoon perches on the edge of the bed with a bowl of water and a cloth in one hand, and Jimin chooses to stand at the end of the bed with his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes are guarded, flicking around the room like he’s avoiding looking at you.

“Take your time, both of you. You might feel well enough to talk, but your energies could wane quickly as your adrenaline tapers off.” Namjoon gestures with his free hand at the bowl of water. “I will clean you up the best I can while you two tell us what happened.”

JK looks at you, raising his eyebrows in silent question. “I can start,” you assure him, reaching out and gripping one of his hands. His fingers thread through yours, anchoring you in the present as you recall what you can of what happened. “We had just crossed the boundary into the Unseelie territory. They came out of nowhere, had to have been hundreds of them, all armed to the teeth. Like something out of a horror fantasy movie, bristling arrows and long pikes.” You shake away the mental image of all that glinting iron and steel. “Yoongi was ahead of us by a few paces. The moment he realized what was happening, he…he—“

“He told me to take her and run,” JK picks up for you as Namjoon begins to clean the dried blood from your face and, as best as he can, from your hair. “That swamp bitch came swooping in on a fucking wyvern. The moon was blotted out in the sky as it descended on us. Yoongi knew if we were all caught, it would be the end of everything. He tried to harness his magick, but I watched as it sparked and jetted from him like a maelstrom of unchecked power. We should have listened!” he snarls, gripping your hand tighter. “We should have listened to you. I’m so sorry we didn’t.” His eyes are rounded with regret and pain as he looks up at you before it morphs back into anger. “I’ll never forgive myself. I have to leave. Now! I’m sure I can make it to the castle undetected. I can be in and—“

You shake your head, interrupting Namjoon’s cleaning. “No. No, no, no. Think rationally here! There was no way to know things would go so badly, not like that. It is no one's fault. And you’ll just make matters worse by going off hot-headed and getting yourself taken, too!”

“So, you just let them have him?” The question is eerily quiet but no less acidic. Jimin’s chest is rising and falling with a barely restrained rage. “How could you not want to fight for him!?”

“What? No, of course not! It’s not like we wanted—”

Letting go of your hand, JK jumps up off the bed and rounds the corner, coming chest to chest with Jimin. The motion is so abrupt it cuts off your response. “Are you not listening? Have you not heard a single thing we’ve just said!? She's right, despite how much I want to go after him now! Put aside your hatred for one fucking second and think with your head instead of your heart! We know that Chaddick won’t kill him, not yet. But if he got his hands on me, or Seven Hells forbid, got his hands on her,” he throws a hand out toward you on the bed, “it would have been near-instant death, tortured in front of Yoongi surely. Which, in turn, could kill him for all we know! You’re not stupid, Mini. You know the power of a mated bond! We have to be careful, or we could lose him forever.”

Jimin narrows his eyes but doesn’t say anything in response. He stares at JK before turning on his heel and storming out of the room. JK moves to follow, but you call him back. “It’s not worth it right now, JK. Let him be.”

“So, what do we do now?” Namjoon asks into the silence. He sets aside the bowl and cloth, having done as much as possible without putting you in the bath.

JK glares at the door and then turns to face you and Namjoon. “I don’t think we should treat this as a rescue mission. We should approach it like it’s the same mission as before. We continue to target Chaddick. If we can get into the castle and take him out, or at least take out Borgia, then we increase our odds of rescuing Yoongi. But first, we need information. We need to know what’s going on in that castle. Do you think the bond could help us?” He looks at you, a hopeful expression on his face.

“I wish I knew more about how to use it. Do either of you know?”

“I have a few books tucked away that might be able to help. I acquired them over the years in hopes they could serve Yoongi once he bonded. One can never be too prepared, after all. Perhaps next time, I will insist he read a book or two before going off on an unknown adventure,” Namjoon declares, clapping his hands lightly before excusing himself from the room to pull out the books.

“Are you okay?” you hesitate to ask JK, unsure of his current temper.

The concern in your voice deflates him a bit, taking the bite out of his voice. “I’m a failure for letting this happen. I should have scouted ahead, been the one in front, something…fuck.”

“We can talk about that until we’re blue in the face. What I mean is, are you actually okay? You wouldn’t let Joon put anything on your shoulder. I know you were injured. I could feel how you limped as you helped carry me back to the clearing.” You aim for gentle yet firm, needing to know he’s wholly okay but not wanting to push him.

He blows out his cheeks, chuckling softly. “The glory of being Fey,” he says before grabbing the bottom of his heavily soiled shirt, pulling it over his head, and dropping it to the floor.

“Oh,” is all you can manage as your eyes hastily sweep the expanse of his chest and shoulders before dropping to your lap.

You can see JK standing in your periphery, looking over his body in the firelight. “These will be no more than slightly puckered scars by the end of the day. The shoulder is a bit more sensitive, but thankfully it’s not my fighting arm, so it can afford to be a bit tender for a few more days.”

“Fighting arm? You think you’ll need to fight soon?” You glance up at him, watching as he scoops the shirt back up, studies a few of the stains, and unceremoniously tosses it into the fireplace, where it catches instantly and blazes brightly.

His good arm pushes up in a shrug. “Possibly. It depends on what Joon has in those books. I might have to try to sneak in if we can’t find any alternatives. I won’t let him suffer in there for longer than I have to.” He nods toward the door. “I’m going to go clean up. Do you need anything before I go?”

You shake your head, and he disappears out the door, leaving you alone with your thoughts. It doesn’t take long before your thoughts have circled back through the conversations, and you’re tugging the blankets to the side. You stare at the white linen wrapped around your middle. Your side still smarts, pinching with pain if you move too much. Namjoon didn’t tell you how long you’d have to rest or wait until you could remove the wrap. You freeze, fingers poised over your middle as you realize what thought just crossed your mind.

Namjoon.

You know his name—his real name. JK said it earlier in a panic. You focus hard on all the feelings in your chest and the knots you now associate with being tethered to a fae in this realm. There isn’t a new one, nothing that feels like it’s directly attached to Namjoon or that you have some sort of power over him. Thinking back over the snatches of conversation again, you realize there’s something else you know…

Tossing back the rest of the sheets, you swing your legs over the side of the bed and take a deep breath before pushing up to stand. As your side protests, you blow out a slow, shaky breath to keep yourself from sitting back down and crawling under the blankets. After standing a few moments, letting the lightheadedness and spots dotting your vision disappear, you creep slowly across the room.

You peek through the crack JK left and scan the living space. Namjoon has his back to you, hunched over in front of the fire with a book in his hands, muttering to himself. You slip out of the bedroom. Thankful someone had the forethought to remove your boots sometime earlier, so you’re quiet as you pad across to the door.

If Namjoon hears you opening and closing the front door, he doesn’t voice it. The sun is high overhead, bathing the clearing in warm light. “I was hoping you were still here,” you express, approaching the figure sitting on the lip of the porch, absently peeling a basket of potatoes with a small paring knife.

“Joon would box my ears if I left without so much as a goodbye,” comes the weary reply. You ease down beside him, holding a hand to your side and trying not to gasp with every stitch. “You really should be resting right now.”

“I wanted to say thank you.”

Guarded turquoise eyes slide your way. “Well, you have said it. Though, there is no need to thank me. Seven Suns know I do not deserve your gratitude.”

“You helped save my life. To me, that deserves probably the most gratitude anyone can deserve.” It’s hard to tell if he’s being self-critical or just obtuse.

He makes an unintelligible noise of frustration, hunching his shoulders and violently freeing a potato of a few inches of skin. “I nearly killed you,” he bites, mangling the rest of the vegetable with a few jerking flicks of the knife.

“What? No, that’s—“

“Do not presume to know more about magick than I do!” he interrupts, rounding on you with wide eyes and a firm frown. “It is my pitiful ability in healing that had your heart stopping. If it were not for JK being familiar with restarting a human heart, you very well would have remained that way. Dead. By my hands. Yoongi would never forgive me.”

“Jimin,” you whisper, wanting to comfort him but unsure how to proceed. You’re so caught up in your own emotional process that his real name spills from your lips before you can wrangle it back down your throat.

The new potato in his hand tumbles into the basket, half-peeled. The paring knife follows, thumping hollowly against the mound of raw vegetables. “‘What did you call me?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I’m sorry.” You clamp a hand over your mouth, wishing you could take it back. This is not how you wanted to have this conversation. When you first came outside, it was your intention to be honest and reveal what you overheard, but the conversation took a different route. One that had you tucking that knowledge away for another time. “Jimin.”

He shivers in response, a full body tremor with his eyes closing, fists clenching, and his lips curling back to expose his teeth. “How? Who told you?”

“Well, no one, technically. Namjoon said it in a moment of panic,” he freezes at the mention of Namjoon’s real name, “and JK said Namjoon’s name in much the same way. But…don’t worry. It’s different somehow. I’m not sure why it’s different, but it is.”

Jimin’s eyes spring open, locking onto you with thinly-veiled suspicion. “Different?”

“Yeah. It’s not like Yoongi. I don’t feel like I have any power over you by knowing your full name. Is it because you didn’t tell me yourself? Is that part of it?”

His mouth works like he’s trying to form words, but nothing comes out. You watch as he wilts slowly, shoulder sagging and hunching forward. “I do not know. It could be that. Though that has never been the case before, to my knowledge, it could be something else…such as your bond to Yoongi and the fact that you are now slowly becoming Fey yourself.” 

“It wasn’t my intention to alarm you like that. I just wanted you to know that I know and…that I don’t have any sort of power over you with it. Just being transparent, trying to earn some of your trust. This isn’t how I envisioned the conversation going, though.”

There is a look in Jimin’s eyes that you’re not sure you understand. “If you did have power over me…would you use it?”

You want to immediately say no, that you wouldn’t dare exert control over him like that, but you consider for a moment and shrug, wanting to try and lighten the mood considerably. “Maybe.” He balks at you, but you shake your head with a gentle smile. “But only so I could make you see reason right now. I know you’re upset, and it might be easy to blame yourself for what happened to me or to blame me and JK for what happened to Yoongi, but the person you should be directing your anger at is the one that ambushed us and took him. They are responsible for what happened to me and Yoongi’s current absence. Focus your anger in the right place. Help us find a way to save him instead of wasting energy being pissed at yourself and us.”

The abrupt laugh that Jimin lets out startles you, making you laugh nervously along with him. “Seven Suns,” he huffs with a sigh. “I have been a nightmare, have I not? Please know I am not so much angry with you or JK. It is really the whole situation. However, I am obscenely upset with myself. If I had only listened to you instead of seeing you as nothing more than an enemy…it would have been different.”

“You’ve not exactly been sunshine and rainbows, that’s for sure. But it’s with reason, I believe. Or at least, I think I understand.” You pause, considering what words to use to express your thoughts adequately. “I can’t even begin to pretend to understand what you and Yoongi have. He is still a stranger to me when you break it down to a base level. Sure, a stranger I’m pretty much married to, but still a stranger. We haven’t had sixty years to get to know each other and build that bond. But I can feel the way he loves you. And even if I didn’t have a front-row seat to his emotions, I’d still be able to see how much he loves you by how he looks at you alone.”

He gives you a quizzical look. “Now that I can see beyond my hatred, you really are not so bad. A little wordy, but I do not mind that so much. You can make up for Yoongi’s broody silences.”

That gives you a warm feeling, hearing Jimin include you as part of Yoongi in that sense, that you could contribute something to their relationship in a way, and it makes you smile. “So, we’re good?” you ask, hopeful.

Jimin nods. “Yes. I would say that we are, indeed, good.” He gives you a slight smile that you know will stick with you for a long time. It’s intimate in its own way, private, genuine, and warm.

“Now, is there anything you can think of that might help? How do we discover what’s happening in the Unseelie Court without going there ourselves? I feel blind. I know nothing about this world…the only thing that makes sense is,” you tap your chest, pressing your fingers over your heart, “this.”

Jimin eyes your fingers, his brow pinching. “Would it—is it okay if—” he pauses, taking a deep breath, “what I mean to say is, is it okay if I try to feel for him…through you?”

“Is that possible?” You scoot closer to Jimin until your thigh is pressed against his. “I don’t mind if you try.”

“I, uh, I do not know if it is possible. But, I think I would still like to try, yes.” He clears his throat, sitting up straighter and exhaling slowly. Jimin lifts his right hand, hovering it over yours, where it still rests over your heart. You slide your hand down, letting it drop into your lap.

The gentle press of his fingers is warm, even through the linen of your shirt. “You can press harder,” you say when he continues with the same hesitant contact.

You ignore the flutter in your stomach when his fingers brush the exposed skin through the neckline of your shirt as he presses his entire palm against your chest. “I feel something. There is a power here. But, I can not discern it as connected to Yoongi.”

He pulls his hand away quickly, shaking his head in disappointment. “Sorry, I wish that would have worked,” you share honestly.

Jimin waves a dismissive hand. “We tried. That is the best we can do for now. But, you can feel him, truly? And he is okay?”

“I won’t give you any false hope, the same as I told JK when he asked. I know that Yoongi is alive. I can feel the bond, but it’s like some sort of wall of smoke obscures the other end of it.”

“Alive,” he parrots, nearly matching JK’s words from earlier. “That will have to be enough for now.” Jimin gracefully stands up from his perch on the edge of the porch, the basket of potatoes abandoned and offers you his hand to help you do the same.

You slide your hand into his, and he hoists you up effortlessly. “Ow,” you splutter, wincing and clutching your side when he lets go, and your stance shifts without his support.

“Oh, fuck!” Jimin quickly takes the bulk of your weight, slipping an arm under yours and lifting you nearly onto your toes. “Let us get you back inside. You do need to be resting.”

The hostility you once felt so plainly from Jimin has substantially tapered off. It’s no longer a choking cloud of disdain, just a mild sourness you can smell mixing with his jasmine and chamomile scent. Though, you can distinctly feel a warmth from him that wasn’t there before. Perhaps in time, you can grow even closer to him. You’re sure that would bring Yoongi joy. It’s still unusual to care so much about someone you barely know. You’ve read books and heard stories about such things, but those all fell under the fiction genre…or so you thought.

He ushers you back inside, being mindful of how much tension gets put on your side with each step. “Thank you,” you murmur when he helps ease you into Namjoon’s rocking chair by the fire.

Namjoon startles, jerking around from his perusal of the book in his hands to take in you and Jimin. “What are you doing up? Were you just outside? You should still be in bed.”

“It is my fault,” Jimin tells Namjoon. “I was outside sulking, and Beautiful felt the need to tell me thank you. If I had not been hiding like a petulant child, she would not have had to get up and come find me.”

 At that moment, JK emerges from the bathroom, bringing with him a cloud of steam and the faintest scent of banana and coconut. “A petulant child sounds about right,” he scoffs, giving Jimin a once over. “Glad to see we’re on the same page. Now, speaking of pages”—he casually walks into the living space with nothing but a towel wrapped around his hips—“have you found anything of interest in that book of yours, Joon?”

“Would you mind putting some clothes on?” Namjoon makes a face at JK. “Nothing yet, but I only just found the one I think may be of help,” he says, pointing to a large pile of books you hadn’t noticed on the floor. “This is The History Of Bonds, written some few hundred summers ago. I was just about to begin browsing it when Mini helped Beautiful into the chair here and was explaining why she was out of bed.”

“Why are you out of bed?” JK asks as he bends to rummage through a cedar chest on the other side of the fireplace.

Jimin clicks his tongue against the back of his teeth. “You both are insufferable. Leave the woman in peace. The last thing she needs is you two fawning over her like old nannies.”

You hide a chuckle behind your hand. “It’s fine, Mini,” you intentionally use his nickname. “I just wanted to thank him for helping me. Everyone else was busy, and I figured walking outside wouldn’t do me any harm. As I see it, we should focus less on why I’m out of bed and more on what we will do next. How do we find out more information?”

“Well,” Jimin says, “I have been thinking about that since you brought it up. I think I might be able to get information from home. We have a magickal communication network that allows us to communicate directly between the courts. I am sure by now word has been sent to the Seelie Court regarding the capture of Yoongi. I will return home and see what information I can find and what I can learn that might help us.

Namjoon hands the book he is holding off to you. “If you would, please hold this for me for a moment.” The book's leather binding is soft, the pages smelling faintly of oranges as you absently thumb through them.

Rummaging around in a small wooden box on top of the fireplace mantel, Namjoon produces a small velvet draw-string bag. “Ravens Word?” Jimin asks, stepping closer to Namjoon.

“It would be the best way to relay information quickly. I have not perfected it, so it can only be used for short phrases or words, but it should be sufficient to give us some knowledge while we wait for you to return.” He hands the velvet bag to Jimin, who tucks it into his trousers pocket. “You remember how to use it?”

Jimin nods. “I will aim for the dining table unless you prefer somewhere else?”

“That should do just fine. I will put down a linen runner.”  Namjoon enters the kitchen and opens the cabinets, setting a folded-up white cloth on the table.

JK eyes the pocket the velvet bag is tucked away in. “Are you sure Ravens Word is the best thing to use? Isn’t it traceable?”

“Traceable only if someone is looking for it. Even still, I will not include anything that might incriminate anyone. We long ago stopped using lowels for signature tracking anyway,” Jimin explains with a small shrug.

“Lowels? Ravens Word? Is there a dictionary in that stack of books that I can get or something?” you ask, letting your gaze flick between the three of them.

Jimin gives you an apologetic smile. “Right. A lowel is a creature resembling an owl of your world that can trace magick signatures not directly attached to an individual. So, things such as minor enchantments that use implements and components instead of the magick from within a being. Ravens Word is one such kind of enchantment. It is a mix of astral dust, herbs, and…um, well, the essence of a mortal-world raven. The mixture is powdered and can be used to send messages as long as the caster is familiar with where they want the message to appear. Imagine it like writing in the sand right before the tide comes in and washes it away—short and precise is best.”

“As for a dictionary, you’re just going to have to hope that mortal brain of yours can keep up, Beautiful,” JK says teasingly. Before you can think better of it, you flip him a vulgar one-fingered gesture. “Oh!” He clutches his chest in mock hurt. “You wound me!”

Jimin and Namjoon watch your exchange with mild curiosity. “Well, the sooner I leave, the sooner I can return. I will return as soon as I can,” Jimin says. He moves toward the door, brushing a hand over your shoulder as he passes. “Continue to rest. Once I return, I will begin instructing you on ways of the Courts. If you are to be bonded to my—er, Yoongi, then I will do what I can to ensure that you do so as an informed resident of this realm.” You’re so pleased that he’s finally being nice to you that you fail to argue that you don’t plan to remain a resident of this realm.

After Jimin was gone, Namjoon focused on the book resting in your lap. “I am curious. Are you able to read that?” he asks, nodding to it.

JK produces some clothing from the cedar chest, only stepping behind your chair to afford himself some privacy to pull them on. Once he’s dressed, he rests his forearms on the back of the chair, looking at the book over your shoulder.

The words on the front of the book look simple enough, but the longer you look at the characters, the more they bend and swirl, which confuses you. “No. I thought at first I might, but the letters don’t make sense. What language is it?”

“Ancient Sylvan,” JK says. “I can barely read it. Joon, where did you get this book?”

Namjoon curls his lips between his teeth, suppressing a mischievous smile. “I may have pilfered a thing or two the night I was put out of the castle.” He gives the book in your hands an affectionate glance. “Most might think that my most desired things are plants because I am a woodland nymph. Well, that might be partly true, but books have always been the real treasures that I’ve sought. You can learn so much from them. Beyond the words on the pages, I can learn the tree's history from which the pulp used to make the paper came. It is a marvel to learn history without needing a history book; any book will do.”

“Put out of the castle? Did you escape with Yoongi, too?”

Shaking his head, Namjoon briefly explains, “I come from Jimin’s Court, actually. We were younglings together. My parents worked in the royal gardens. I was caught one night helping Mini sneak out of the castle to be with Yoongi. I was turned out the very next morning and forbade to return.” He shrugs. “I much like my solitude here in the Hollow Lands anyway. Castle life is so…loud.”

“Interesting.” You want to ask many more questions but know they’re not the priority right now. You hold the book up to JK. “Do you want to give reading it a try?” 

He laughs, stepping back from where he was leaning against the top of the rocking chair. “I’ll pass on that. Joon, why don’t you read it for us?”

“Certainly,” Namjoon says, coming to perch himself on the arm of the rocking chair. “The first page should be an index of sorts. Let us start there.”

You thumb open the book to the first page with writing on it. It doesn’t look much like an index page to you, having only a few lines of swirling text. “Here?”

“There are just a few chapters. I have only briefly skimmed this book in the past. But,” his eyes flick over the page, “ah, yes. Here we are, ‘Chapter 4: Communicating Through Bonds’. Finding a way for you to communicate with Yoongi through the bond seems like a good place to start.”

That is what you focus on for the next handful of days. And, much to your chagrin, it doesn’t work. At least, you don’t think it does. The process is easy–mainly depending on your inner focus and learning how to navigate and decipher the different fibers of the bond, of which you’ve come to find out there are seven–but the execution sparks no results.

The bond's first and most prominent thread is called the soul tether. It’s the part of the bond that allows Yoongi to use you to access his inner well of magick. It has a distinct feel, with a constant pulsing thrum and vibration.  Anytime you focus on it, the magnetic pull that says you should be by Yoongi’s side increases.

The other strands are all more or less associated with the senses—Yoongi’s senses, to be exact. There are five basic senses and a sixth that is tied to the feeling of emotion. These more minor parts of the bond are associated with communicating. But the connection to them slithers away whenever you think you get a handle on it.

In a way, it feels like Yoongi is doing it on purpose. After nothing but failed attempts, Namjoon concluded that perhaps Yoongi was trying to keep Chaddick or Borgia from discovering his bonded status. Another chapter in The History Of Bonds touched on how another fae can detect things like that, but it can be masked to prevent that from happening.

“I am not sure how he is doing it. Perhaps it is linked to the natural instinct to protect your bonded mate while under duress.” Namjoon spreads his hands in defeat. “I just do not know at this point, and the book does not explain further. Though, I think it best if we move on to trying to find a different way to help.”

JK grumbles from his spot across the table from Namjoon, “I’m still for sneaking in and murdering those assholes. You know I could do it.”

“You’re insane if you think I’d let you go in alone. I told you before. We go in as a team or not at all.” You roll your eyes when JK sticks his tongue out at you. Turning your attention to Namjoon, you ask, “What did you have in mind?”

Namjoon glances down at the white linen runner still on the table—the remnants of Jimin’s message burned into the fabric. Drumming his fingers on the table, he hums thoughtfully. “Well, considering Mini’s message yesterday, we might be better off waiting until he returns to try to formulate another plan. He might be able to offer us a bit more insight. True to form, the Ravens Word was, indeed, limited.”

Sun Solstice.

Two words with a giant X crossing over them. That’s all that came through on the second day after Jimin left for the Seelie Court. When you questioned what that could mean, Namjoon and JK were puzzled. Namjoon explained that the Sun Solstice is the longest day of the fae year, celebrated by the Seelie. It’s mostly known as a day when they hold bonding ceremonies for the royals or Greater Fae. But, it also has been known to be days where they execute the Hell Condemned. Which is a term, you’ve learned, that is used for someone like Yoongi—an exiled fae convicted of high treason.

“How is it exactly that Chaddick has been able to deceive both courts for so long? Fae can’t lie, so how has he kept up such a ruse and made people believe Yoongi is a murderer?” It’s a thought that’s been driving you crazy since the beginning, but everything is moving so quickly that you didn’t think to broach the subject sooner. However, you feel like it’s vital information to know when trying to develop a game plan now.

JK pushes up from his seat to rifle through a cabinet in the kitchen. He begins pulling out dishes and various containers. “From what we’ve gathered over the years, it’s all because of his warty little bitch, Borgia. At least, that’s been the only reasonable explanation.”

“What exactly is she?” The image of the fiery-haired crone on the back of a pitch-black winged serpent has infiltrated your mind while both asleep and awake. Those fateful moments still come in fits and flashes, the chaos overwhelming.

“Swamp Hag,” Namjoon says. “Nasty, ancient being. It’s still a mystery how Chaddick sways her to do his bidding. They are typically solitary creatures that come from deep, deep to the south, beyond the borders of The Hollow Land. In a place that we call the Dread Court, though it is not a real Court. There are no presiding rulers or anything. No, it is a land ruled by darkness alone.”

“Swamp Hags are what you might think of as a witch,” JK continues, picking up the explanation as he starts to slice the loaf of bread Namjoon made after breakfast. “They have no natural magick but can harness the magick of other creatures or items. Creatures from the Dread Court are not held to the same…restrictions we find ourselves with. They can lie just as easily as a mortal man.”

“So you think she has somehow given Chaddick that ability?”

JK scoops a spoonful of honeyed butter onto a slice of bread and spreads it out. “More or less. That or she’s somehow found a way to glamor the entirety of the courts. It’s tough to say, considering we’ve had little inside intelligence over the years. The most information we get is from Mini, and even then, he can only ask so many questions to avoid unwanted suspicions.” He proceeds to butter several more slices of bread, arraying them on a plate and setting it on the table in front of you. “She’s the wild card in all this shit…and I hate it.”

🌸🌸🌸

Yoongi

It is imperative for Yoongi to hide the bond, but he can’t think of the rationale as to why for some reason. Whenever he wants to relax and let go, something kicks in and smothers that shining light all over again. He wants to reach out to it, to touch it and find comfort in it, but no matter how much he wants to…wait, what did he want to do?

It’s the same thing over and over.

Awareness. Smothering. Darkness.

Awareness. Smothering. Darkness.

Nothing makes sense, and yet everything is highlighted in stark clarity. If only he could turn off that incessant ringing. Maybe he could remember what he was thinking about. It’s important. It’s warm—comforting.

No.

Awareness. Smothering. Darkness.

Again and again.

Until…something changes.

Voices. Yes, there are voices. Hushed whispers that he is sure he wouldn’t be privy to if they knew he was aware of them.

“What is wrong with him?” A familiar voice. The voice of his nightmares.

Shuffling feet draw closer. “How am I to know? He looks and feels much the same to me as he did before. What has changed?” Fetid breath ghosts over his face as the figure comes even closer. “I think he is awake.”

The ringing in his ears intensifies as a hard fist connects with the side of his head. “Wake up, boy. Let me see those eyes that are so like your father’s.” The chains securing Yoongi’s arms over his head rattle with the residual force of the blow. Slowly, Yoongi lets his eyelids slide open. “Ah, there they are. Just as ugly as I remember.”

“Do not speak of my father, you filthy murderer!” Yoongi growls, focusing his anger on masking the bond even now that he’s broken out of his temporary fugue.

“Ah,” Chaddick rears back, a dainty hand pressing to his chest. “You wound me, Yoongi.” He flicks his other hand through his long, blond hair. The silky strands cascade over his shoulders as he moves in a slow circle around Yoongi. The space is small, the top room to one of the circular outer turrets, far from the castle proper. He stops after completing the circuit and comes back to face Yoongi. “Borgia, be a dear and remind him exactly who the murderer is here.” His crystalline eyes glitter with hatred as he watches Borgia step forward and press a gnarled, dirty finger to Yoongi’s temple.

“Yoongi, stop!!” Geumjae screams in pain. The metallic stench of blood is thick in the air. It coats his tongue and makes his grip on the short-hilted dagger slip as he raises it again to bring it back down in a harsh stroke. Geumjae’s next scream is wetter, bringing up a froth of bubbling, black blood dribbling down his chin.

He raises the blade again, eyes tracing the arc of it. The moon is high, its rays streaming just enough light inside the hallway for Yoongi to see the look of terror on his brother’s face as he swings the dagger a final time, the wicked edge severing Geumjae’s spinal cord with a satisfying pop of cartilage and muscle.

Blood soaks into the knees of his trousers as he kneels there, watching the light wink out in Geumjae’s eyes. “Like father like son, both dying a coward's death,” he says, his voice coarse and thick with disgust.

Except…it’s not his voice. It’s—

“NO! That is not what happened!” he snarls, jerking away from Borgia’s poisonous touch, severing the connection to the false memories.

“Are you so sure about that?” Chaddick sneers. “From my recollection of that day, your hands were very much covered in your brother’s blood.”

Yoongi shakes his head as much as he can with his arms up the way they are. His hands might have been covered in Geumjae’s blood, but he did not murder him. “You murdered him. You murdered them both!”

“How preposterous. The guilt has clearly warped your mind during your time away.” Chaddick's long black dressing robe swirls around his slippered feet as he approaches Yoongi, coming within just a few inches of him. “Rest assured. You will meet your justified fate for your crimes against the Unseelie Court.

Yoongi laughs a cold and reckless laugh that earns him a backhand across the face. The coppery tang of blood fills his mouth, dribbling down his chin from the cut left by one of Chaddick’s many finger rings. “What? Angry with me? Will you push me out the window like you did your wife? A sword through the belly like my father? How about—” Another blow across his mouth cuts him off.

Chaddick’s hawkish nose wrinkles in anger before he jerks his chin at Borgia and takes a step back, cradling his hand against his chest. “I want him to be pliable and weak. Scramble his brain if you have to, but you make him heel like a pup, or you will be the one I push out the damned window!”

There is momentary satisfaction as Yoongi watches Chaddick storm from the room until he’s reminded of who remains. “You ought to watch your tongue, boy, else he requests me to cut it out. You should know better than to speak such fallacies.”

“Fey can not lie, and you know it.”

That makes her suck her teeth. “Funny, if Fey can not lie, then how is it you say one thing and he says another?” Power glitters in her rheumy, yellowed eyes. “Story has it that you found yourself some dark magick out there in the wild. Allows you to lie and has further tainted your pitiful soul.” Her body shakes as she throws her head back and howls with laughter.

Yoongi has been suspicious about how Chaddick can lie and manipulate this whole time. He knows the stories, what the people believe happened to his father and brother—what Chaddick has made them believe. To anyone that is a victim of Chaddick’s manipulations, Borgia is simply an old seer that Chaddick employs to throw bones and tell fortunes. She’d come with Chaddick to the Court as part of his retainer of staff. Yoongi didn’t even know her capabilities and true nature until it was too late.

“Just kill me and be done with it,” Yoongi mutters, wincing as the burning around his wrists finally registers. Iron, thick and unbreakable, surrounds each delicate joint. The chain connected to the manacles disappears into the darkness above.

Borgia cackles, drawing Yoongi’s attention. “He plans to marry your mother. Do you know that?” Yoongi tries to control his breathing as he listens. “The way I hear it, she pants after him like a mongrel in heat.” He can’t hold back any longer. Yoongi pushes off with his feet, swinging wildly in Borgia’s direction. His right foot connects solidly with her jaw, sprawling her flat on the floor.

“Fuck you!” Yoongi yells, his voice twisted with the pain that echoes down his arms. His body sways, toes scraping at the stone to stop his momentum.

Her moan of pain turns into a rasping chuckle. “Fuck me?” Borgia pushes her bony body off the floor, swaying sharply as she gains her feet. “You will regret that, just as your brother regretted trying to save your life. He told me so right before he took his last breath…right before I cursed his soul to eternal darkness!” she screeches, lunging at Yoongi with surprising agility. Before he can react and jerk out of her reach, her skeletal fingers close around a fistful of his shirt and jerk him forward.

Pain explodes behind his eyes as the fingers of her other hand dig into the flesh of his neck. Ragged fingernails drag over his skin, leaving fire in their wake. He opens his mouth to scream, but silence is all that comes as he’s swept away to another time, another place…surrounded by the darkness of horrid memories that are far too real. 

The blankets are snatched off Yoongi’s bed, bringing him with them to land in a sprawling heap on the floor. “Seven Hells!” He blinks rapidly, trying to clear the sleep from his eyes. “Geumjae? What is going on?”

His brother crouches beside him, giving Yoongi a clear view of his face. There are splatters of black across his cheeks and down his neck—blood. Before Yoongi can question him again, Geumjae presses a finger to his lips. “We do not have much time. We have to go. Now!” he urges, grabbing at Yoongi’s arms to help untangle him from the sheets.

“Can you hold on—stop, ow!” Yoongi swats at Geumjae’s hand. “You pinched me, asshole!”

Geumjae slaps a hand over Yoongi’s mouth. “Stop being so loud,” he whispers harshly through gritted teeth. “I do not have time to explain right now. I just need you to trust me. We have to get Mom and get out of the castle. Right. Now.”

It’s not often that Geumjae acts so seriously. If anything, he’s the more relaxed of the two. When their father steps down, Geumjae is expected to take the throne as the eldest son. A revelation he grumbles about more often than not. He’d much rather spend his time playing the lute and singing great ballads to the simpering ladies of the court.

“Why are you covered in blood?” Yoongi questions when Geumjae lowers his hand, matching the volume of his brother’s whisper this time.

Geumjae looks at the door to Yoongi’s bedroom as if checking to ensure no one is looming in the open doorway. “I need you to listen to me, Yoongi. I mean, really listen, okay?” Yoongi purses his lips and nods. “I was coming in from the stables and overheard an argument in the east courtyard. It was Father and Chaddick. By the time I snuck around the corner, it was too late. Five handspans of steel were sunk into Father’s belly, Chaddick’s hand wrapped around the hilt, and that damned red-headed crone of his cackling with glee behind him.” He holds up a hand as Yoongi opens his mouth to protest. “I said listen! I ran as fast as I could and came straight here. This blood is from the guard stationed outside your room. He was one of Chaddick’s men. I could not risk him alerting someone as we left. We can discuss it later, but we need to go now. We have to get Mom and leave!”

It’s not that Yoongi didn’t comprehend anything Geumjae said. It’s just that there is a process to accepting and understanding something like that. Father, dead? Yoongi’s never heard a funnier—albeit not amusing at all—thing being said. “Jae,” he whispers, his heart quivering violently in his chest.

“I know, baby brother, I know.” Geumjae helps a robotic Yoongi to his feet before gripping his hand and pulling him out into the hallway's darkness.

As they approach the wing that leads to their mother’s bedroom, Geumjae slows down to a walk so he can peer around every corner to check that it’s clear.

Silent tears coat Yoongi’s cheeks. Every time Geumjae looks back at him, he scrubs his face with the sleeve of his pajama shirt, not wanting his brother to see his weakness.

“We should just go kill him,” Yoongi mumbles.

“Kill who? Me?” comes a cold voice from the shadows down the hall beside them. They whip around, Geumjae shoving Yoongi behind him. Chaddick moves closer, his bloodied sword trailing him out of the darkness. A few steps behind him crouches Borgia, her sickly-yellow eyes catching in the moonlight like a monster lurking in the dark waiting to pounce.

Geumjae reaches back, fingers wrapping around a small dagger tucked into the top of the back of his trousers. He whips it out, brandishing it. “Just let us get our mother and walk away. We will leave here and never return.”

Chaddick raises one icy blond eyebrow. “Do you think me a fool, Geumjae? Come, boy, I know you are not that thick-headed. You and I know I can not let you leave here alive. Either of you.”

“Jae, stop,” Yoongi urges, tugging on the back of his brother’s shirt as Geumjae steps toward Chaddick.

“Run, Yoongi, run as fast as you can. Leave here and find a way to reveal the truth.” Geumjae maneuvers himself to block Chaddick’s line of sight to Yoongi completely. “Go!”

“Guards!” Chaddick bellows, startling Yoongi. “Sound the bell! The king has been murdered! Hark, hark, hark! To arms! Defend the Court!”

Geumjae glances back at Yoongi, realizing he still hasn’t moved. It’s this instant that Chaddick attacks. Glinting steel slides right through Geumjae’s back, tenting the fabric of his shirt before slicing through in a rush of black blood. Blood spews from Geumjae’s lips, misting Yoongi’s face as he makes one last attempt to get Yoongi to move, “Run!” Geumjae takes a staggering step toward Yoongi, the sword sliding back out of his body. Bloody fingers land on Yoongi’s chest, shoving him backward.

Yoongi screams a gut-churning, heart-wrenching scream that echoes off the stone walls and fills the entire hall. Just as Yoongi finds purchase, after slipping in the pool of blood steadily growing at his feet, Chaddick begins another mockery announcement. “Guards! The Crowned Prince has been slain! To arms! Beware! Min Yoongi, murderer!”

“Not dead yet, you bastard!” Yoongi hears Geumjae snarl. He glances back over his shoulder, locking eyes with his brother one last time—the final time. Geumjae smiles, even through the blood and the pain, letting Yoongi know that it’s okay…it will always be okay.

“Get out of my head, you evil bitch!” Yoongi groans with the effort of severing Borgia’s connection. “I will take great pleasure in gutting you like the slimy bottom feeder you are!”

Borgia hacks a glob of bloody phlegm onto the floor at Yoongi’s feet. “Good luck with that when all that is going to be left of that brain of yours when I am done with it is mush!” She smacks her lips together, tongue running over her cracked and discolored teeth. The red of her hair looks like rust in the dim light coming in through the arrow slits at the top of the room's walls. “Are you curious about your brother’s last moments? Do you want to know how he died on his knees, begging and pissing his pants? How about how we made your mother watch as Chaddick opened his belly and fed his guts to the hounds?”

Yoongi’s nostrils flare, the pain of seeing those last moments all over again almost too much. “Why are you doing this?”

She titters, clucking her tongue. “I do not need a reason to want to see the likes of you and yours finally fall from their gilded seats into an iron cage.” Waving a gnarled hand, she dismisses that line of discussion. “What I would like to talk about now is why every time I dip into your noodly little brain, I can feel something I have never felt before. But every time I try to take a closer peek, it moves further away. Tell me, Hell Condemned, what are you trying to hide from me?”

Even with tears freely streaming down his cheeks, Yoongi silently pats himself on the back for being able to keep his bond hidden. He may not have realized what it was before, why he wasn’t allowed just to let go. But, now he does. He understands with brutal clarity what exactly he’s protecting. It only pains him that he’s not allowed to take comfort in the bond, to luxuriate in it while facing the darkness ahead. No, he can’t even think of—before the image of your face can fully form in his mind, he’s willing it away.

“I guess you will never know,” Yoongi finally responds, letting his eyes slip closed and promptly ignoring any of Borgia’s further questions. Even when she screams at him and presses her filthy fingers into his skin again, he meets the replay of dark memories with a slight smile on his busted lips.

🌸🌸🌸

Monica

“What am I supposed to do, Mal? It’s been weeks.”

Malcolm slides another espresso across the small cafe table to Monica. “Ye say she wanted tae come ‘ere fur she was after something. Whit was it again?”

“Stupid stories. Well, not stupid, but silly children's stories. Her grandfather was one of those head-in-the-clouds types, and he was always filling her head full of fantasy bullshit about pixie dust and fairies. Utter nonsense.”

In the three weeks since you went missing, Monica has more or less moved in with Malcolm. She canceled her flight home, returned the rental car, and put in for an extended sabbatical at work. In part, she feels responsible for your disappearance. She’s sworn off alcohol and refuses to go home until you’re found.

“Ye dinnae believe in magick?” Malcolm asks hesitantly.

Monica scoffs. “Do you expect me to believe some little green man with fairy wings carted her off? Be real, Mal.” When he just looks at her, she continues, “Don’t tell me you believe in that stuff?!”

One of his big shoulders lifts, and he sighs. “There are stories, ye ken? Things folk only blether aboot in hushed whispers. Stories aboot people disappearing around Beltane.” Monica leans forward, bringing the espresso up for a small sip, intent on Malcolm’s story. “The veil between worlds is thin, allowing the fae folk ta donder among the mortals. Some say those that disappear are taken back tae the fae realm. There was this yin lassie, mah maw knew her when they were weans, disappeared when she was eighteen. She showed up almost a decade after, had barely aged a day, spouting off aboot a peace finally comin’ tae the courts allowing her tae make her escape.”

“Do you expect me to believe that? Honestly?”

“All I’m saying is that there are folk who have disappeared the same as yer friend. Would it be so bad tae think she’s somehow caught up in another world? Ye said so yerself that she doesn’t feel here anymore.”

She hates that Malcolm is right, and she has said that; she still says that. Because that’s precisely what it feels like. Is this why you talked her into coming to Scotland? Did you come looking to disappear? Monica reflected on your last few conversations many times over the previous few weeks. Everything points back to your grandfather…maybe she should have paid more attention or been more empathetic to what losing him did to you. Perhaps then you would still be here.

🌸🌸🌸

Namjoon

Maintaining the new ward is taxing. The leaves of his seeded oak are starting to drag the ground, an alarming new development. Jimin is delayed in returning, his second message using the Ravens Word still smoldering the linen runner on the table.

Tonight.

They had waited, thinking Jimin would be returning soon. But one day turned into another and eventually became almost an entire moon cycle. Namjoon is ready for his friend to return, hoping he’ll bring with him another implement or two. The haggardness is creeping back around his eyes, and it’s getting harder and harder to keep the garden flourishing. He knows if it comes down to it, the plants will have to suffer to preserve the ward; it would be for the best, but it still pains Namjoon to consider it.

“Are you feeling okay?” Your inquiry startles him out of his thoughts. “Sorry, I should have knocked.” You prop your hip against the bedroom door jamb, where Namjoon excused himself hours ago so he could lie down and nurse a headache.

He pushes up on his elbows, wincing slightly at the thundering ache still pounding away between his temples. “Feeling a bit better now. Has JK returned from the western glen?”

“Joon, JK returned hours ago. You’ve been in here nearly all day. It’s why I came to check on you. Mini should be arriving soon, I’d imagine.”

That gets Namjoon’s attention. He clears his throat and absently pats his clothes as he slides off the bed. “Right. I must have laid down a bit longer than I thought I had.” He wishes he’d have at least slept some.

“It’s your magick, isn’t it?”

“What?”

“The reason you look and probably feel like shit.”

His brow pinches. “I look like shit?”

“You look like you haven’t slept in a week, and the bags under your eyes are turning into suitcases.” The worry you feel is evident in your voice, even if Namjoon doesn’t quite understand your odd phrasing.

There is no use in trying to skirt around the truth, as you’ve already figured it out. “Yes. It is my magick. Or rather, a lack of. I was already nearing my limit when I let down the ward the first time. Now that I have had it back up for several weeks, and with the bond necklace only having given me a few additional weeks…well, it would seem I need another boost or a miracle.”

“Maybe we should find you a human to bond with,” you say. Namjoon can tell you’re joking, but the idea has crossed his mind on multiple occasions.

“Mmm,” he hums, giving you a tight-lipped smile.

You push off from the door jamb and gesture over your shoulder with a thumb. “JK has dinner ready if you’re hungry.”

He follows you out of the room and settles at the dining table across from you. Jungkook has a platter of grilled meats and vegetables waiting. The fragrant scent of herbs and spices makes Namjoon’s stomach give an appreciative grumble. His appetite hasn’t been what it should be, another testament to how he’s been feeling.

“Hope you’re hungry,” Jungkook says after setting plates and cutlery beside the platter. “There is another rack of trimmings keeping warm in the coals.”

Jungkook’s always been a fairly decent cook. The tender meat is like butter melting on Namjoon’s tongue. He’s confident that if he can eat enough tonight, he’ll maintain his strength for another day or two at least.

You’re awfully quiet as you slice up the vegetables Jungkook spooned onto your plate. Namjoon can almost see the wheels turning in your head. There’s something on your mind. He’s gotten good at picking up on your tells and personal nuances over the last few weeks while waiting for Jimin to return. The awkwardness that was there in the beginning no longer exists. You might have been a stranger to him the first few days, but now you’re so much more. A friend—but even that does not seem to suffice when he considers you. Between the training you’ve been doing with Jungkook and the help you’ve been putting in around the house, you’ve been spending a lot of your free time helping Namjoon with his garden and learning all you can about the plants he so dearly loves.

It’s very apparent that Jungkook has also taken a liking to you. Primarily, he dotes on you, waiting on you hand and foot. When Jungkook returns from his daily scouting trips, he often returns with a swath of wildflowers you’ve taken to decorating the porch railing with. Bright blooms of pink, purple, and blue cover nearly every available inch. Namjoon knows what it means but doesn’t dare to broach the subject. Especially considering he would then have to reflect on his own internal feelings, and that’s a space he would rather avoid for the foreseeable future.

“Would that even work?” Your question pulls him out of his thoughts.

“Sorry. Would what work?” he asks after swallowing a bite of meat.

You poke at a crispy potato wedge, chewing on your bottom lip instead of the food. “Bonding with a human?” You finally look up from your plate, your eyes meeting Namjoon’s curious gaze.

“What are you talking about?” Jungkook asks, pausing with a forkful of food halfway to his mouth.

You shrug. “His magick is straining again. I was just curious if bonding with a human would help him like it helped Yoongi since Joon is a woodland nymph, not a Greater Fae or whatever.”

Your curiosity is endearing. The fact you care enough about Namjoon to ask makes him feel good. “I imagine it would work much the same way. There are far fewer stories in our histories where a woodland nymph took a human mate, but we have our own inner wells for magick. Ours are more connected with where we plant our soul seed. My oak,” he gestures toward where his towering oak sits outside, “is where my magick is channeled from. It enters through my connection with my tree and into my inner well. The way a human bond works is it primarily allows the Fey to wield more of their own power safely. If I bonded with a human, it would allow me to draw on more magick through my oak.”

“Where does your oak get magick from?”

“Bronwe—that’s the name she whispered to me when her first leaf began to sprout—my oak,“ Namjoon explains, “draws her power from deep below the ground. Her roots reach for many miles in all directions, feeding on the life force of nature itself. Though, the more magick I draw from her without having some sort of stabilizer, the weaker her roots become. That is why her branches have begun to droop so low. I have been trying to take too much from her.” Namjoon drops his eyes from yours, resuming his study of his plate. “So, yes, to answer your question. A human mate would help—if just to give her a break.” 

“Can more than one fae be bonded to the same human?”

Jungkook chokes on his mouthful of food. Namjoon reaches over and hammers a fist against his back, suddenly feeling like he can’t breathe himself. “Why would you ask that?”

“I’m just curious,” you declare. “I still know very little about this world and how it works. Just asking questions.”

“Sounds to me like you are causing trouble with your questions,” Jimin’s amused voice carries from the porch just before the door opens, and in steps the Fey himself.

“Mini!” You shove back from the table and skip to the door, pulling Jimin into a hug. Namjoon watches you, thankful for Jimin’s interruption and amused at the look of surprise on his face as you press your face against his chest and inhale deeply. You’ve been gravitating toward scents recently, primarily seeking clothing worn by Yoongi or left here by Jimin. It’s made Namjoon curious if it has anything to do with the deep connection between Jimin and Yoongi, despite there not being an actual bond between them.

Jimin pats your back. “At least one of you is happy to see me,” he teases.

“What news do you have for us?” JK asks, standing up and grabbing another plate from the cabinet. “You must be starving, have a seat. Eat.”

After settling down beside you, once you resume sitting at the table, Jimin fills his plate with food before he begins. “I expect you got my Ravens Word messages?”

“Sun Solstice.” Namjoon confirms, “We did. What is happening?”

“Chaddick has announced a marriage decree to Yoongi’s mother come the Sun Solstice, an act of unification, he claims. It will coincide with his public execution before the whole of both courts. The end of the Min line to finally bring true peace to both Courts. A blessing and a curse.” He pauses, taking a moment to meet everyone’s eyes. “I saw him.” 

“You saw him? How? Where?” Jungkook’s hand tightens around his fork so tightly that Namjoon hears the wooden handle creak.

Jimin visibly shivers. “It was requested that my family be present for the announcement. Chaddick presented the decree and began working with the Seelie Court advisors on a power merger. He intends to be the first Seelie to sit on the Unseelie Throne. This is exactly what he has wanted all along, but he knew as long as Yoongi was still alive, there was no way he could lay claim to the Min throne—regardless of Yoongi’s exiled status.”

“How did you manage to see him? Surely they have him locked away in the dungeons?” Namjoon questions, knowing full well the typical etiquette observed for prisoners.

The sigh Jimin lets out is hollow, exhausted. “Chaddick is bold. He was parading him in the open, shackled in iron like a beast. His eyes were so—they were so…empty. I could feel the taint of darkness surrounding him, bleeding from him. It stank of a swamp,” he sneers.

“Borgia. She must be using some sort of witchy shit on him.” You shove away your plate in frustration. “Ugh! I wish I knew more about this bond. If it gives him access to more power, shouldn’t he be powerful enough to break free from it or something?”

Jimin gives you a sympathetic look. “Was there anything you all found out that might help? Anything about the bond we can work toward? The Sun Solstice is just a week away.”

Namjoon has an idea, but he’s unsure how receptive anyone else will be to it. You gave him the idea, actually. Even then, it’s a long shot that anyone would be comfortable agreeing. But, then again—he glances at Jungkook, who is staring at you like he wants to hold you and soothe your worries. Jimin, well, he already knows Jimin will do anything for Yoongi. And, as far as himself…

“I think I might know of a way to help,” Namjoon admits, his voice wavering slightly with nerves. “But, it is a bit eccentric.”

🌸🌸🌸

Jungkook

“You want us to do what?” Jungkook can’t believe what he’s hearing.

The tips of Namjoon’s ears blush as he stammers out his idea again. “It might be possible for us to all bond with Beautiful, giving Yoongi unfettered access to our magick through her. It would have to be enough for him to overpower whatever enchantment Borgia has over him. There is no way she is more powerful than four Fey combined.”

“I’ll do it,” you don’t hesitate to state. “If it can help, I’ll do it. I’ll fuck all of you at the same time if it means helping Yoongi, if it means we rescue him and send Chaddick to the fiery pits of Hell…or wherever it is that bad people from here go.”

Jungkook can’t help the smirk that tugs at his lips. He knew he liked you from the moment he laid eyes on you. The fact you were meant for his best friend didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate you. Spending the last several weeks holed up in Namjoon’s house with you only intensified that appreciation. Since Namjoon said your side was healed well enough, you’ve asked Jungkook to help train you with a sword every morning. And fuck if he doesn’t like how your body moves when you swing it. You might be no better than a child playing with a toy sword right now, but you don’t give up—which is what makes him keep agreeing to train you.

“Are you certain this would work?” Jimin asks, his untouched plate of food forgotten on the table.

Namjoon stands up from the table and moves over to his stack of books. “I came across it a few days ago. It is not a definitive account but a speculation based on transcribed scrolls in an abandoned temple found near the Dread Court. There is a small passage about ‘Circle Bonding’,” he explains, flipping through an old, tattered book. The pages are barely staying within the binding. Dust drifts down from the book with each additional page Namjoon turns. “Here.” He turns the book around and gently lays it on the table.

Looking at the page, Jungkook can see it is in a standard script, likely part of the translation process. “‘A practice observed mostly by lesser Fey seeking more power’,” he reads off, skimming over the small paragraph. “‘Although the effects may vary according to the Fey involved, it is believed to be most effective with at least one Greater Fey’. Well, we got that covered, at least. Twice over,” he muses, glancing at Jimin.

Jimin lightly brushes the edge of the page. “Is it so simple?”

“I am willing,” Namjoon says. “It may also help with my magick. I do not know how long I can keep us concealed here.”

“With luck, my friend, you won’t need to keep the ward up much longer. If we bond and Yoongi gets the boost he needs, I say if he doesn’t make it out by himself, then we orchestrate an attack the night before Sun Solstice. The Seelie Court will be in attendance. I’m sure there will be a feast in preparation for the sun to rise…the perfect distraction and opportunity to slip in and make some noise.”

You’re nodding along to Jungkook’s plan, a sparkle of light shimmering in your eyes. He knew you liked this kind of stuff. There’s no way you wouldn’t with all the stories your grandpa told you. You’ve shared a few with him over the weeks. His favorite is The Young Tamlane of Carterhaugh. He wonders how long it will take you to realize that story is, in part, based on himself.

“So, we agree, then? We try to bond and give Yoongi the extra oomph he needs to escape. If, for some reason, he doesn’t, we say fuck it and storm the castle in a last-ditch effort. If they’re going to try and execute him anyway, it’s not like we have other options.” You look at Jimin, the only one who hasn’t voiced his agreement yet. “What do you say, Mini? We didn’t start on the right foot, but I no longer care about that. I just want Yoongi to be alive and happy.”

“It would mean I am connected to him, too. So, if sharing a bond with all of you saves Yoongi, then of course I agree.” Jimin smiles. It’s soft and sweet, something Jungkook hasn’t seen from him in a while.

Jungkook begins clearing away the dishes from the table, uncaring of the uneaten food. “Well, no time like the present. We need to find implements to use. Joon, do you have anything?”

“I believe I know just the things,” Namjoon replies. He heads straight for the small box on the mantle, where he pulled the bag of Ravens Word from. “I have been saving these for a long time.” Returning to the table, he opens his palm and reveals three near-identical purple and white crystal shards. Delicate silver chains crisscross over and around them, securing the stones at the ends as the pendants of necklaces.

“Those are beautiful,” you say, looking at the stones in Namjoon’s palm. Your lips make this cute ‘o’ shape, parting just enough for Jungkook to see the tip of your tongue.

Jimin grabs the bag he discarded on the floor by the door when he first came in. “They will match perfectly with this.” He pulls back the clasps on the bag and reaches in. “I got something for you. I figured you would be tired of having to roll up the sleeves on the tops and cuffing the pants of these giants.” Purple silks and velvets come out of the bag, silvery and light blue accents peeking through here and there. “Some blouses, fitting of your beauty, and some tapered trousers more suitable to your stature.”

“Oh, wow. Mini, you didn’t have to do that.”

The smile that graces Jimin’s face reminds Jungkook of just what made Yoongi so goo-goo-eyed, to begin with. Jimin has an ethereal beauty that goes beyond even that of a Fey.

“Perhaps not. But I wanted to. I want you to be comfortable and well cared for, truly.” A bit of color creeps into Jimin’s cheeks, further brightening his smile. You roll your lips between your teeth and do this little shoulder swish that’s just so fucking cute. Jungkook’s sure he could swoon over the Seelie Prince himself if he weren’t so caught up in watching your reaction to Jimin. You disappear into the bedroom to try on the new clothing.

“Okay, Prince Charming,” Jungkook teases. “A few weeks away, and you come back a different Fey.”

“Not different, just more accepting, perhaps. She is forever a part of Yoongi, and I love him—all of him.” Jimin sets his bag back down, brushing his hands off on his pants. “I know I was wrong in the beginning, I let my emotions cloud my judgment, and I will forever be embarrassed and sorry for my actions. I am simply doing what I can to rectify it.”

Jungkook steps around the table and places a hand on Jimin’s shoulder. “Yoongi would be proud of you.”

“I hate that he is not here for this. Do you think he would be accepting? She is his mate, his bond…would he be okay with us making that connection, too?” The worry in Jimin’s voice is evident.

Namjoon moves to stand beside them, the necklaces dangling from his hand. “I believe if Yoongi were aware of ‘Circle Bonding’ before all of this, it would have been his idea. You know how much he loves you, Mini. He and JK have been inseparable since they were younglings. Of course, he would want him to be a part of his bond.” It’s not lost on Jungkook that Namjoon doesn’t include himself in the assurance.

“Do not leave yourself out of that, Joon. He would want you, too,” Jimin responds immediately, clearly having caught it the same as Jungkook. “You have done more for him in the last ten years than JK, and I combined. If anything, you would be his first choice.” They both chuckle, knocking shoulders playfully.

“How do I look?” you call from the bedroom as you step out.

Jungkook swallows thickly, subconsciously licking his lips as he takes you in. The lilac top hugs your figure, accentuating your waist, flaring over your hips, and pushing your breasts up. He sends up a silent thank you to the Moon for Jimin choosing those trousers. They hug your legs, making them look like they were dipped in starlight.

Jimin breaks the silence first. “Exquisite.”

“Thank you, good sir.” You give an exaggerated curtsy, your fingers pinching at the flared fabric over your hips, making them all melt into laughter. “Now, who’s ready to do this?”

🌸🌸🌸

You can’t believe what you’re about to do. When you slipped into the bedroom to change into the beautiful clothing Jimin brought you, you nearly panicked and climbed out the window. Since the moment JK dumped you through the gateway and into the loch, your entire life has been one giant tailspin. It’s only been recently that you’ve managed to stop the nauseating swirl and begin to get a grasp on things. Now, you’re about to take another nosedive into the unknown. 

It’s not that you don’t want to bond with these fae—you don’t mind that part—but you can’t seem to get rid of the tingling beneath your skin when you think about how Yoongi might react. You’ve been trying to remain positive, spending a lot of time reaching out to the bond and frustrating yourself over and over again when you run into the same foggy wall as before.

Jimin’s news of Yoongi made your stomach churn. You immediately grabbed for the bond and threw everything you had against the wall separating you, but it was useless. If you’re being honest, the reason you agreed so quickly to try the circle bonding was the thought that maybe if someone else is part of the bond, then they can use their magick to break through the barrier and finally communicate with Yoongi. From what JK explained and what little you could read of the book Namjoon had, in theory, it should work in a way that allows them to feel the bond you have with Yoongi and each other.

“We should start with JK,” Namjoon suggests. “Go in sequence of ability.”

JK huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “I guess that makes sense. Are we all going to do the rites first?” 

Jimin looks to Namjoon, and they both nod. “I think that might be for the best. We can begin the bonding process all at once and then…umm, the other.”

“Foursome,” JK chirps. “The other would be what they call a foursome.”

“You do not have to be so crude,” Jimin murmurs. “Besides, what if we do not want to do that together?”

“Are you worried we’ll laugh at your little cock?” JK pokes his lips out in a faux pout. “It’s okay, Mini. I promise not to laugh too much.”

Jimin raises a slim brow, his lips tipping into a smirk. “I was thinking more along the lines of not wanting to make you feel inadequate in comparison.”

“Okay, okay, enough dick talk,” you laugh, thankful for the banter that has eased the tension. “If it’s any consideration, I wouldn’t mind if everyone was present. Based on my experience, inhibitions seem to have no place during a bonding. I doubt any of you will even care if you accidentally cross swords.”

That earns you a loud, full laugh from JK and curious looks from Namjoon and Jimin. “That has to be in reference to sex of some kind,” Namjoon muses. “I will have you all know that I have never—well, I have never experienced copulation with another being.”

“Fucking knew it!” JK exclaims.

This makes you pause. “Are you sure you want to do this, then, Joon? The bond…it, well, it is very controlling.”

Namjoon clears his throat. “I know. If I am being honest with you, with all of you, I have taken quite a liking to you, Beautiful. I do not believe in coincidences, the sun and moon move in mysterious ways, but the stars are always aligned precisely how they are meant to be. You were destined to come here, to be a part of this world, and now you are making it tilt to rotate on your axis.”

You can feel it, the rightness in his words. You didn’t travel to Scotland on a whim as you thought. No, you were inevitably drawn to this time and place as a beacon of hope and change. Everything your grandpa ever told you has prepared you for these very moments. You know how this story is supposed to end.

When you lead the way to the garden, the moon is high in the sky, the air warm and humid against your skin. Beautiful ivy vines, fragrant jasmine, and drooping wisteria cover the moon gate. The flowers have bloomed fully over the last week or so, creating a magnificent backdrop as you stand with your hand clasped in JK’s. Jimin gently wraps the delicate silver chain around your hands, much like he and JK did for you and Yoongi.

You can’t help reaching out to the bond again. Trying to somehow let Yoongi know what you’re about to do is meant to help him. Being of the Unseelie Court, the words JK speaks mirror the ones spoken by Yoongi, vowing to be like the moon that gives way to the sun. You feel the same draw, reciting the words you also spoke to Yoongi. As the last word leaves your mouth, you gasp, stumbling forward into JK and clutching your chest.

The bond undulates, swelling inside you with the onslaught of new feelings. It’s like JK has reached under your ribs and is squeezing your heart. “Fucking hell,” you rasp as your body finally adjusts to the new sensations. “Is that normal?”

JK’s eyes are wide and full of alarm as he clutches you to his chest. “Like being hooked up to a car battery.” Usually, that would make you laugh, hearing JK speak so casually about things in the mortal world, considering the amount of time he has spent there during the last ten years. But, now, it barely registers over the ocean roaring in your ears—only, they’re not your ears.

🌸🌸🌸

Yoongi

Standing on the rocky precipice, looking out over the deadly drop into the crashing waves below, he feels something inside of him change. Sweat beads on his forehead, and his manacled hands grow clammy, having nothing to do with the ocean mist that lingers in the air.

“Would you like your body to be dumped into the ocean once I finish with it?” Borgia asks, sucking her teeth as she ambles over the craggy rock face to sneer at him. “I would shove you over right now if I could get away with it.” She uses a high-pitched mocking voice, “Oh, no, he jumped! I could not stop him!” Her laugh is like the crumbling of dead leaves, raspy and hollow. Yoongi barely registers the fire lancing through his wrists when she tugs on the iron chain, making him stumble behind her like a dog on a leash. He’s so focused on the new sensation in the bond that he doesn’t mind when she forces him onto his knees, the barnacles on the rocks cutting through his pants. “Collect those for me, dog, and I will let you have a bite of bread for dinner.”

His fingers dig at the crustaceans, trying to pry them from the rock. He doesn’t care that it’s nearly impossible to do with just his fingers, as long as Borgia doesn’t touch him. Because, right now, he is leagues away…standing in front of a moon gate, looking into the eyes of one of his best friends.

🌸🌸🌸

The sensations level out, letting you get a better grasp on them. After Jimin unwinds the necklace, JK slides his hands up your arms, sucking in a breath when his fingertips graze the exposed skin of your neck. He licks his lips and jerks back, releasing you. “Sorry,” he mumbles.

“It’s okay,” you whisper, reluctant to let him step away. The connection between you urges you to go to him. Now that it has tasted his magick, it wants more. It needs you to complete the bond to his inner well.

Your eyes drift to Namjoon as he takes JK’s place before you. He offers you his hand, a warm smile on his face. “May I?”

Instead of answering him, you feel a need to be honest with him about something that has been eating away at you for a long time now. “Joon, I—I need to tell you something.”

Namjoon’s brow pinches and his hand slowly lowers to his side. “What is it?”

You chance a glance at Jimin, who is watching you with an open expression of genuine support. He nods his chin slightly in further encouragement. You reach for Namjoon’s hand, taking it up and holding it between both of your own. “When JK and I first came back after Yoongi was taken, there were some things I overheard during all the chaos. Things that I do not think I was supposed to hear but that were said accidentally with all the stuff going on. Joon—Namjoon,” you pause, letting him take in the realization, “I hope you are not too upset with me.”

His eyes drop like he’s taking a moment to filter through his feelings. “No control,” he finally says. “You know my true name, but still, you hold no power over me for it.” He looks up at you, and a slow smile spreads across his face. “I am thankful for you telling me. You are full of surprises, you sweet, wonderful being.”

“Do you know my real name?” JK asks, drawing your attention.

You shake your head. “I do know Jimin, though. Those were the only two names I heard that night. I don’t know if it was because someone else said them, and that’s why I don’t have power with them. Or, Jimin thinks it might have something to do with me slowly growing into my own faeness. Either way, it’s not my intention to have that kind of power over any of you. I didn’t want to ask you, and it somehow not be the same as with them. I would never have asked it of Yoongi if I thought there was any other way to guarantee my safety at the time.”

“Tell her,” JK urges, nudging Jimin with his elbow. “I want her to know my name, too.”

Jimin chuckles softly, giving JK a knowing look. “His name is Jungkook, Jeon Jungkook of the Unseelie Court, Royal Guard to the Crowned Prince.”

“You didn’t have to get all proper like that,” Jungkook says, rolling his eyes, but then he quickly looks to you, hopeful.

“Jungkook,” you test out his name, liking how it feels on your lips. “I like knowing your name without having some control over you with it.” That makes Jungkook positively beam, the moonlight reflecting in his eyes and over his dark hair. He may not be a fae prince, but he sure looks like it to you. You turn back to Namjoon, intimately aware of the butterflies that sweep through your belly when you meet his gaze. “Shall we?”

The words Namjoon chooses are different but no less potent in their meaning. “As all living things need the sun, water, and nutrients to grow, so too do I need you as my mate to grow beyond what I am now. I open my heart to you so you may gaze upon my grove and find shade under the branches of Bronwe. You are now the blood of my blood and bone of my bone. I give you my spirit till my life shall be done.”

It’s so natural now, responding to his vow with your own. “Whether as a mighty oak or a delicate rose, I come to you as tender hands of care. I will be the cooling shade to searing heat and the suckle of water when it's dry. I will protect you and Bronwe with all that I am and ever could be. You are now the blood of my blood and bone of my bone. I give you my spirit till my life shall be done.”

Namjoon’s hand tightens around your forearm as you both sway from the impact of the tether beginning to form. “Wow,” he says. The sentiment of his surprise and awe echoes inside you as the bond changes again. Your nose twitches as you catch the faintest whiff of briny ocean air.

🌸🌸🌸

Yoongi

Something is happening to the bond. The harder he pushes it down to mask it, the harder it pushes back. It’s clear to him that you’ve accepted a bond with Jungkook, though the reasoning alludes him. He trusts his friends implicitly. Whatever it is they are doing with you, he knows it’s for the benefit of everyone.

The moon is bright overhead, something that used to bring Yoongi immense amounts of joy because it would revitalize his inner well and make him feel refreshed, even when his magick was at its weakest, right before you got dumped into his life—literally. Since he’s been taken, Borgia has made sure to only take him out at night when she feels like he’s extra compliant. Tonight is one of those such instances. He’s been feeling listless the last day or two, using all of his reserved strength to keep the bond masked, long having given up trying to fight the nightmare of the night he escaped the castle that she makes him relive constantly.

“Scrape at those faster, boy. We do not have all night.” Saliva splashes onto his boot as she spits on the ground beside him. He ignores it, digging his now bloodied fingers around a particularly stuck barnacle, his eyes focused on the moonlight glinting off the ocean in the distance, but all he can see are a beautiful pair of turquoise eyes that are so full of love as they move to in front of him—but not him.

🌸🌸🌸

Jimin is the last to step in front of you. Unshed tears are glistening in his eyes as Jungkook helps Namjoon twine the third necklace around your clasped hands.

The words Jimin says are similar to Yoongi’s but from the sun's perspective as opposed to the moon's. “As the sun provides light for the moon to glow, so too will I shine for you as my mate. I open my heart to you so you may gaze upon my stars and find warmth within my soul. You are now the blood of my blood and bone of my bone. I give you my spirit till my life shall be done.”

You combine your own words, feeling like that is the right thing to do. “The moon spends its entire life reflecting the light of the sun so that others may see, even in the dark. I offer myself to you as an equal to shine for the moon. I open my heart to you so we may both be bright for him, even in the darkest of times. You are now the blood of my blood and bone of my bone. I give you my spirit till my life shall be done.” The inclusion of Yoongi is automatic, offering Jimin not just a bond but a promise that you will never try to be more prominent in Yoongi’s life, instead standing as an equal to Jimin.

The bond shivers, bringing an added warmth that shines brighter than the midday sun. Jimin closes his eyes and murmurs, “Yoongi. I can almost feel him.”

🌸🌸🌸

Yoongi

“Put them in the jar,” Borgia huffs, kicking the glass bottle closer to where he kneels. His hands are a mess, bloodied and aching, as he grabs the jar and begins to stuff the crustaceans he managed to pry from the rock.

Sweat is pouring down his neck and soaking his shirt. The last change to the bond is making it so hard to hold back. Jimin. He has barely thought of him since he’s been captive, lest he falls into a bottomless pit of despair. Yoongi can feel them, all three of his best friends, glittering like an oasis in the desert on the other side of the mental wall he’s erected within himself.

He aches to drop the wall and reach out to embrace the warmth it offers. But he’s not sure what will happen if he does. The bonds are faint, incomplete—just a tease at this point. Yoongi grits his teeth, shoving the last of the sea creatures into the jar before staggering to his feet and holding it out to Borgia. She gestures wildly down the coast, a silent command for Yoongi to walk. He clutches the jar to his chest, takes a step forward, and once again finds himself with his unfocused gaze staring into familiar turquoise eyes and the faint taste of chamomile on his tongue.

🌸🌸🌸

“He’s there. I know he is. Why isn’t he letting us in?” Jungkook presses a hand to his chest, a look of confusion on his face.

“The bond is not yet complete. That could be holding him back,” Namjoon suggests. His breathing is a bit ragged as he works to unwind the necklace from around your and Jimin’s hands. “There is so much power.”

You can feel him now. Yoongi is there, a muted presence, but you feel him more prominently than you have the whole time he’s been gone. The taste of salt lingers on your lips, and for some reason, the tips of your fingers ache with phantom pains. “He knows,” you whisper, licking your lips and savoring the tangy flavor that shouldn’t be there. “I can feel him.”

“Whoa,” Jimin gasps, pulling you closer. His eyes bore into yours. “Your eyes, they—they are his. Oh, Yoongi.” Before you know it, Jimin’s lips are pressed to yours. The touch ignites something in you. You lean into the kiss, letting Jimin slide his tongue between your lips. “You taste the way he does, like the darkness just before dawn and morning dew,” he murmurs against your lips, pulling away to catch his breath.

Gentle fingers brush across the back of your neck, eliciting goosebumps down your spine. “You smell even more divine than before. Is it because of the bond?” Namjoon audibly swallows, the sound quivering his breath as he exhales. “Perhaps we should go inside.”

All you can do is nod. The force of three new bonds is far more intense than one, each playing off the need of the next. As you follow them back into the house, you can feel moisture already gathering between your thighs. Namjoon leads the way, his broad shoulders seeming even more expansive now that you’re looking at him through a bond haze.

Jungkook has been uncharacteristically quiet since he questioned why Yoongi wasn’t letting them in. You put a hand on his arm to draw his attention. “You okay?”

“What? Me? Oh, yeah, I’m more than okay.” That boyish grin you first saw all those nights ago at Bowhill House settles on his lips. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

You shrug. “You don’t even know my name.”

His eyes flick to yours. “Sure I do. You’re Beautiful.”

“I mean my real name,” you laugh. Namjoon pushes open the door to the bedroom, and you continue in behind Jungkook.

Jimin shrugs off his overcoat and tosses it on a wooden chair in the corner. “We do not need to know your real name for this to be what we want. At least, that is how it is for me. And if I am being even more honest, I do not want to know your name until you are ready to give it, and even then, I want Yoongi to know it first. He deserves that more than we do, but only when you are ready for that…if you ever are. We are all perfectly content with calling you Beautiful, as that is exactly what and who you are.”

“He’s right,” Jungkook agrees. “Now, quit stalling and get on the bed.”

“Excuse me?” you ask with an awkward laugh.

Jungkook pokes at the corner of his mouth with the tip of his tongue. “I said get on the bed. Now.”

“Hold up a minute, I don’t thin—“

His chest is against yours in the next instant. He steps forward, forcing you back until your thighs knock into the edge of the bed. “Seeing as how I am the only cock in this room that has any experience with pussy, I think it would be best if I called the shots. Besides, I like being in charge.” He emphasizes that statement with a gentle push to your shoulders, easing you back onto the bed. 

You glance at Namjoon and Jimin. Their eyes are locked on Jungkook, watching his every move as he slowly begins to relieve you of the clothing you put on only hours ago. The buttons on your blouse pop open quickly under his deft fingers, exposing your bare breasts to the heat of the room and their gazes.

Being bold, Namjoon steps forward and perches on the bed beside you. “Are they as soft as they look?”

“It’s okay to touch,” you tell him before giving Jimin a look that means those words are for him, too.

Your boots come off next. One at a time, they thump onto the floor, discarded by Jungkook. His fingers tickle along the arch of your foot, making you squirm. You open your mouth to tell Jungkook to stop, but Namjoon’s fingers pinching one of your nipples steals your attention.

“Touch her, Jimin. I know you want to. Stop resisting.” Jungkook smirks as he trails his hands up your legs until he gets to the fastening on your pants.

Jimin reaches out a tentative hand and cups your other breast, squeezing lightly. You both shudder from the contact. “I can feel you feeling me,” Jimin observes, experimenting by flicking his thumb over your nipple until it pebbles tightly.

Your body jerks as Jungkook tugs your pants down over your hips. Namjoon sits up a little straighter. He cocks his head to the side, sliding his hand down from your breast to splay across your stomach.

“What you’re looking for is the clit,” Jungkook casually tells Namjoon. “Listen to the sounds she makes. Watch her reactions. You’ll know when you find it.” 

“Why am I the only one naked?” you huff, biting your bottom lip as Jimin continues teasing your nipples, and Namjoon’s hand moves lower. Your pants hit the floor, Jungkook finally getting them down your legs. He stands back, looking smug as he watches Namjoon’s hand intently.

It’s a soft touch at first, the way Namjoon’s fingers sweep over your skin. Your chest is rising and falling rapidly as he becomes more confident with his exploring. Jimin leans in and captures your next exhale, breathing you in before devouring your mouth in a brutal kiss. He follows you down as you lose the will to continue sitting upright. Hands trace over your knees before firmly pushing them open, exposing your throbbing core.

You track Namjoon’s fingers, letting your body and the bond guide your sight even behind closed lids. You’re distinctly aware that it’s Jungkook’s hands on your knees. The sound of Namjoon’s sharp inhale when he finally slides a finger through your wetness, mixed with the sensation of it, has you moaning into Jimin’s mouth.

“Listen to her moan for you,” Jungkook whispers, his voice dark and throaty.

Namjoon drags his finger through your arousal again, eliciting another moan from you. Jimin breaks away from the kiss, panting against your cheek before pressing open-mouthed kisses along your neck. He alternates with tongue and teeth, leaving playful marks in his wake. “Kiss her when you do that, Namjoon,” Jimin stops his kissing to murmur into your skin. “It is exhilarating feeling the vibrations of her moans.”

“Take off your clothes first, lover boy,” Jungkook suggests, the words hooked on a groan he tries to hide. “I have a feeling once you start, you won’t be able to stop.” His hands are still on your knees, and without looking, you can tell he’s staring at where your arousal is beginning to drip out and down your ass. You can feel his penetrating stare, the way he’s holding back his desire so Namjoon and Jimin can enjoy themselves before he does.

The finger that was tracing circles around your clit disappears. Your eyes flutter open, intent on getting your first real glimpse at Namjoon’s body as he begins to slip out of his clothes. He’s always worn neutral earth tones that compliment his easy-going demeanor. The fact he’s hiding such a beautiful body under so many layers of linen should be marked down as a cardinal sin.

His eyes meet yours as his shirt hits the floor, and his thumbs hook into the waistband of his pants. With teasing slowness, he slides them down inch by inch until they come loose around his knees and fall to puddle around his feet. Namjoon is as glorious naked as he is kind in spirit. You’re utterly at a loss for words, so you just reach out a hand to him in offering.

Jimin leans back, propped up on an elbow, as he watches Namjoon take your hand, and you guide him up onto the bed. The bed dips, and Jimin scoots back a little to allow your legs to open further as Namjoon kneels between them.

“Are you sure?” Namjoon asks you, his eyes searching yours for assurance.

The bed shifts as Jungkook settles above you. He holds up a single white, dusty petal. You automatically open your mouth and stick out your tongue to receive the Silver Ward, internally grateful someone thought to grab it. The creamy taste of the flower petal melts in your mouth. In response to Namjoon, you grip a handful of his hair and pull him down, guiding his mouth to yours.

The scent of pine blooms heavily around you, and the taste of orange floods your mouth. Namjoon tastes and smells as sweet and comforting as you thought he would. With your other hand, you work it between your bodies until your fingers graze along his erection. He shudders, stomach clenching as his hips jerk forward.

“Easy,” you whisper between kisses. “Nice and slow.” His velvety skin is warm and smooth as you slide your hand along his length, marveling at the amount of sticky wetness already seeping out from the tip.

“Seven Suns!” Namjoon curses, his lips popping off of yours as you shift your hips up, and the head of his cock presses into your wetness. His eyes widen as your other hand lands on his hip, encouraging him to thrust forward. Inch by inch, he fills you until you’re both writhing, and he’s all the way inside. “It feels—it feels, I do not…the words…” he trails off, jaw going slack as he slowly pulls out and pushes back in.

“Good pussy is supposed to make you speechless,” Jungkook comments slyly. “Now, make her cum like a good mate.”

🌸🌸🌸

Yoongi

His steps falter as his body locks up, rocketing through a sensation he hasn’t felt since the night he bonded with you. Alarmed, he holds the jar of barnacles over his crotch and quickly continues walking before Borgia can bark at him for stopping.

Pine and orange blossoms. The scent is so intense, Yoongi could almost believe he was somewhere deep in a spring orchard instead of walking along the rocky coastline of the Unseelie Court. You have fully bonded with Namjoon. The idea that his best friend just made love to his mate doesn’t phase him. He welcomes the additional feeling of Namjoon in the bond. Though, what is most surprising is the energy Yoongi now feels. His exhaustion is waning, and the ache in his head lessening.

🌸🌸🌸

Namjoon pants heavily into your neck, his body still quivering on top of yours. You can feel his cock still pulsing, filling you with thick jets of cum. The orgasm tore through you and ripped right down the bond connected to Yoongi. You hadn’t even considered that could happen. But, as you recover from the post-orgasm haze, you realize the foggy wall separating you from Yoongi has depleted significantly.

That revelation excites you. “I think it’s working,” you say breathlessly. “Namjoon, do you feel him?”

Pushing up on trembling arms, Namjoon slowly pulls out of you, sitting back on his heels. His cock is still hard, jutting up against his stomach and smearing your combined releases across his skin. “I do.” There is evident amazement in Namjoon’s voice, his face splitting with a huge smile. “It is beyond what I imagined. I can feel him, just as I can feel you.”

Your body kicks back into overdrive, reminding you there are two bonds you’ve yet to complete. “I should clean up.” You sit up to slide around Namjoon, but a hand on your shoulder pulls you back.

“If you think Namjoon’s cum will stop me from fucking you, you are mistaken.” Such dirty words coming from Jimin’s sweet mouth have you moaning softly. He’s almost possessive in how he grabs your ankles and pulls you over on top of himself. You straddle his stomach; hands pressed against his chest for support. “Claim me. Mark me as yours,” he demands. 

You shift back, feeling his hard length slide between your thighs until it pops out and slaps against his stomach. Jimin grunts, his bottom lip caught between his teeth, prominent canines—making you think so much of Yoongi’s—indenting the plush flesh. Wrapping your fingers around his cock, you give it a firm squeeze, watching as a bead of pre-cum oozes out.

You can feel Jungkook’s and Namjoon’s eyes on you as you lean forward and flick your tongue over the tip of Jimin’s cock, collecting the glistening moisture. The taste alone makes you moan, like the best blend of warm spices you’ve ever had. It complements the clove of Yoongi and the orange of Namjoon so well.

“Fuck,” Jungkook moans. You glance at him, smirking before swirling your tongue around Jimin’s head. All three moan then, Jimin’s hips bucking up and pressing his cock more firmly against your tongue.

“I will not last if you keep doing that,” he whines beautifully.

Sitting up straight, you keep your hand wrapped around his cock and adjust your hips until you hover over him. “Look at me,” you tell him. Those turquoise eyes lock onto yours. The rapture that takes over Jimin’s face as you begin to lower yourself onto him is something that will be ingrained in your memory forever.

He stretches you perfectly. Despite having just been filled with Namjoon, your body needs a moment to adjust. You begin to move, rocking slowly until Jimin starts to rock his hips to go deeper.

“Play with her nipples,” Namjoon suggests.

Taking the direction, Jimin captures one of your nipples between his thumb and forefinger, tugging gently. You throw your head back, moaning loudly. Encouraged by your reaction, he does it again. “Jimin!” you cry his name, undulating your hips in a way that has the head of his cock rubbing all the right places.

He stiffens under you when you cry out his name, growing impossibly harder. “When you say my name like that, it does something to me. Seven Suns, say it again!” he begs.

“Jimin, Jimin, Jimin,” you string together his name like a prayer, repeating it with each thrust until you’re nearly sobbing his name, begging for relief yourself.

You hadn’t realized Jungkook moved to kneel behind you, only becoming aware of him when one of his hands slides around your hip and his thumb presses against your clit. “Make him cum, Beautiful. Claim that cock as yours.”

The sensation of Jimin tweaking your nipple and Jungkook rubbing the pad of his thumb against your clit has your next orgasm careening through you. Black dots spot your vision, your body pulsing around Jimin and encouraging his release. His mouth opens in a silent cry, head thrown back against the mattress.

Before you have time to register what’s happening, Jungkook grabs your hips and pulls them up. You fall forward, landing on Jimin as your ass goes into the air. “Ju-jungkook, wha—OH!” you moan, sucking in a breath and trying to orient yourself.

Heedless of the cum dripping out of you and Jimin’s hard cock just inches away, Jungkook shoves down the front of his trousers and pushes into you in one swift motion. “If I had to watch anymore, I was going to cum in my pants, and well, that would be a waste of a perfectly good bonding orgasm.”

You mewl from the overstimulation, fingers scrabbling over Jimin’s shoulders, searching for purchase to keep yourself from sliding forward. Jungkook’s fingers dig into the meat of your hips as he sets a relentless, pounding pace.

“He is like an animal,” Namjoon muses, though clearly being turned on by the display. He fists a hand around his own erection. “Do you feel it, Jimin?”

 Jimin just grunts, wrapping his arms around your back to help hold you in place. You meet his eyes, watching the swirl of emotions in their oceany depths. “Let go, Beautiful. Give in to it,” he whispers, his lips brushing over yours with each word.

You do. You give in and open yourself to Jungkook. Jungkook’s hips stutter against your ass as your body commands his, drawing forth his orgasm to crest with yours. The final bond slams into place, exploding through your body with pleasure and intensity.

For a moment, you’re shuffling along a desolate shoreline. The moon is high overhead, the ocean screaming as it throws itself against the bluffs a hundred feet below you. “Where am I?”

“What did you say, boy?”

You jerk around, startled by the voice, and meet a wicked set of yellowed eyes that instantly go wide with understanding.

🌸🌸🌸

Yoongi

He was ready the second time you accepted a bond, silently rejoicing in being connected to Jimin. Tears pricked at his eyes, but he kept his face forward so Borgia wouldn’t grow suspicious. The third bond came so quickly after the second that he let his hold slip. Those terrifying moments when he watched as you looked through his eyes, spoke with his mouth…

“Fuck you!” Yoongi yells, throwing the jar of barnacles as hard as he can at Borgia’s face. The glass smacks her in the mouth, shattering. Shards of glass rain down on the rocks at her feet as she screams.

Opening himself to the full power of the bond nearly sweeps Yoongi off his feet. It barrels through him, and he has to step back to keep his balance. Focusing on his strength, Yoongi pulls against the cuffs around his wrists as hard as possible. They are iron, but the strongest Fey magick has been known to break it.

Borgia swipes a hand over her mouth, trying to dislodge errant pieces of glass. “You stupid, stupid worm! I do not care what Chaddick wants. I will see you in pieces before the night is over!”

She lunges at him, hands hooked like claws, aiming for his face. Yoongi grunts, ignoring the bite of iron ripping into his skin as the shackles groan and creak from his efforts. He might not know how to control his power fully, but with the additional potency from the bond now, he only needs a small amount to make a big difference.

The cuff on his right wrist snaps, the iron pieces crumpling in his hand. As Borgia collides with him, he brings up that mangled piece of iron and drives it down as hard as he can into her back. Her fingers dig into his cheeks, the nails slicing through his flesh, but he forces his hand down harder. Yoongi feels the metal pierce her skin and grind against the vertebra in her spine.

“You may not care what he wants, but you should care about what I want!” Yoongi snarls, jerking his hand from side to side to do as much damage as possible. “Your life, you foul bitch! I hope you rot!”

Borgia spasms, her legs jerking wildly as her hands slide down his face. She gives one last snap of her teeth in his face before her body lists to the side and thumps solidly against the ground. A wet cackle bubbles past her lips, her eyes darting up to him. “You are a f-fool if you think he will not find y-you again.”

“You will be lucky if anyone finds you,” Yoongi sneers, crouching down and promptly giving her limp body a push. She rolls, her arms and legs flopping with each turn before disappearing over the edge.

Yoongi stands there momentarily, contemplating the likelihood he could make it to the castle and get his mother out undetected, before deciding against that plan and turning west to begin picking his way across the uneven ground—letting the bond lead him home to you and the three males that mean the most to him in his life. With Borgia gone, Chaddick’s deception will be swift to crumble. His mother will be safe enough, protected by the lies that have kept him away all these years. He only saw her a few times during his time of capture but never was able to get close enough to talk to her. As he twists off the remaining cuff from his left wrist, he wonders if everyone in the castle will be able to feel his increase in magick. That also might mean Chaddick can feel him, too—all the more reason for Yoongi to get home as soon as possible.

He begins to run.

🌸🌸🌸

Everyone is milling along the edge of the meadow surrounding the house. Namjoon increased the radius of the ward, pushing it out to where it used to be, where you’re all now standing. 

Jungkook is pacing, his feet kicking in frustration through the ankle-high grass. “We should go find him,” he grumbles for at least the fifth time.

“Be patient,” you insist. “He’s close, but so is that patrol that went by earlier. The last thing we need is multiple bodies out there making noise or accidentally running across the wrong trail and putting them on our scent.”

You can feel the irritation coming from Jungkook, he knows you’re right, but that doesn’t mean he won’t press your buttons. That’s something he’s becoming increasingly good at over the last forty-eight hours.

Once the bond was completed, everyone could feel Yoongi with stark clarity. You felt the moment he drew their magick through you and used it in bursts and fits of strength. Even now, he’s drawing on it to propel himself forward faster through the woods of the Hollow Lands. With each breath you take, you can feel him moving closer.

A noise catches your attention, drawing your eyes to the tree line. There is movement a few yards in. You can see and hear at greater distances, far more than you could days ago. Adding three bonds has seemingly kicked your transformation into high gear.

Finally, you see him. Yoongi peeks out from around a tree. His eyes scan the immediate area, checking for any sign of threats before he takes off in a sprint, coming right for you. He may not be able to see you through the ward, but you know he can feel you.

“Faster,” Jimin urges in a frantic whisper.

As Yoongi draws closer, you have to suppress the urge to scream. He looks barely alive. His clothes are ripped and tattered, hanging loosely from his thin frame. His weight has dropped considerably; his shoulders and collarbone stand out in high contrast through the thin material of his shirt. Angry red rings circle his wrists, and his lips are bruised and cracked.

You open your arms, prepared to grab him as soon as he stumbles through the barrier of the ward. He slumps into your arms, and you nearly drop him, but thankfully Jungkook is there and catches you both.

“Seven Hells,” Yoongi rasps, clutching at your shirt. His eyes flutter, trying to focus on your face before they roll back in his head, and he goes limp in your hold.

Jimin keens in distress, quickly sweeping up Yoongi’s legs. Jungkook takes over for you, holding Yoongi’s torso, and he and Jimin begin to carry him toward the house.

As soon as Yoongi’s eyes rolled back, you felt the bond connected to him shiver and pulse weakly before dropping to a low hum in your chest. “Namjoon,” you say more as a plea than anything. The nymph pulls you close, wrapping his strong arms around you as you watch Jimin and Jungkook work their way up the porch stairs with Yoongi slung between them.

“All will be well, Beautiful. Come, let us go help our mate.” Namjoon ushers you across the yard and into the house, where Yoongi is laid out on the dining table, much like you and Jungkook were. You’re not sure if you can appreciate the irony or not.

The fact Namjoon called Yoongi our mate still resonates with you as you pick up one of Yoongi’s hands, clutching it in your own.

“Namjoon, you know best. What can we do?” Jimin asks as he rips the tattered remains of Yoongi’s shirt off. Yoongi’s chest is like a macabre version of a Klein painting, blue and black with bruises and dried blood.

Namjoon moves around to stand at Yoongi’s head and places a hand on his forehead. “He is burning up. A fever. Most likely infection from the iron that was around his wrist. Exhaustion, certainly. He did not stop running the whole way here, meaning he made a nearly three-day trip in less than two. I think what he needs right now is some rest and an infusion of vitamins, nutrients, and something for the infection.”

Jungkook finishes taking off Yoongi’s pants. “Beautiful, want to help me get him cleaned up?”

You startle, tearing your eyes away from staring at the myriad of discoloration covering Yoongi’s body. “Yes. Yes, of course.” You gently set Yoongi’s hand back down on the table and follow Jungkook into the bathroom to retrieve towels and a cleansing bar.

“He’s strong. He’ll be okay.” Jungkook moves back to the dining table, setting the supplies down. “I’ve seen Yoongi in a worse state than this.”

“Worse than this?” You can’t imagine that.

Jimin looks longingly at Yoongi before pressing a quick kiss to his forehead and follows Namjoon outside to collect everything needed for the infusion.

Filling a bowl with warm water from the solar tank by the sink in the kitchen, Jungkook sighs. “Yeah. Hard to believe, but when we first escaped from the Unseelie Court, the first few weeks were not kind to us at all.”

“What happened?” You dip a cloth into the warm water and begin to gently clean the various cuts and wounds littering Yoongi’s body.

“I remember being woken up by Yoongi tipping my bed onto its side. I was spitting mad, cursing at him, and yelling until I saw that he was covered in blood from head to toe. I still can’t recall the exact words he said to me, but I didn’t need to hear them. I just knew I had to follow him, do whatever I could to protect him from whatever was happening.” Jungkook works diligently with tender touches, careful not to jostle Yoongi too much. “My bed was in the royal barracks, but thankfully in one of the outer wings. I don’t know that we could have slipped out had my bed been somewhere deeper in. We managed to slip out through an unmanned postern gate.”

You tilt your head, watching Jungkook and feeling your appreciation and affection for him grow with every word. “He’s lucky to have you.”

Jungkook snorts and shakes his head. “I was a shit friend most of the time, especially in the beginning. Mad that he wouldn’t tell me everything that happened and then horrified when he finally did. What Chaddick did to his brother, right in front of Yoongi’s eyes…that’s not something you can move on from easily. Yoongi was in a bad place for a long time. He barely ate anything unless Namjoon or I forced him to.”

“I’m glad he got better.”

“All thanks to Jimin. It wasn’t until Jimin finally made it into the clearing—once the immediate danger had passed—that Yoongi got some life back into him.”

You let that thought soak for a while, ruminating and sitting with it while you and Jungkook finish cleaning Yoongi up and wrapping him in a blanket. When Jimin and Namjoon come back in, their arms ladened with baskets from the garden, they agree to move Yoongi to the bed to afford him the best chance at resting comfortably.

“Beautiful, there is a ceramic bowl above the kitchen sink and a mortar and pestle. Do you mind bringing them to me?” Namjoon asks as he and Jimin begin to sort the things in the baskets on the bed.

The bowl and tools are easy to find. You pull them down and take them to Namjoon. “Is this something he will need to ingest?”

“Not necessarily. Much like the poultice I made to help heal your side, this works through dermal absorption. It can be ingested, but it more or less works the same either way. Though, it can be a bit vile tasting, so through the skin is best in my opinion,” Namjoon explains as he begins to crush different sprigs of greenery and colorful petals with the pestle.

He continues to work in silence under the watchful eyes of Jimin and Jungkook. You spend most of your time staring at Yoongi, watching his chest's shallow rise and fall. His silvery hair is longer, greasy, and disheveled, but he’s still no less handsome than before.

Jimin holds out a small glass tube with a cork stopper to you. “For his lips. It is a moisturizing oil that he favors. Just a drop will do.”

You unstopper the glass and press your finger over the opening, upending the tube quickly before righting it again. A small drop of oil sits on the pad of your finger. It smells like honeysuckle. You gently rub the oil across Yoongi’s lips, being extra careful around the swollen split on the right side.

When Namjoon is done mixing the infusion, he begins to rub it into any exposed skin methodically. Jungkook pulls the blanket back, giving Namjoon access to Yoongi’s legs and stomach. The mixture smells like bitter greens with the faintest hint of mint.

“And now we just wait?” you ask when he’s done.

“Unfortunately, that is all we can do for now. He needs to rest. His magick, the bond, and the infusion will do the rest.” Namjoon gathers the empty baskets and the used tools with Jungkook’s help. “We will be outside. You two should get some rest, too. Call if you need anything.” He presses a brief kiss to your forehead before starting for the door.

Jungkook blows you a kiss over his shoulder, giving you a look before he disappears behind Namjoon. It was a look of contentment, assurance that everything would be okay. You’re grateful for their optimism and support.

“I will go as well,” Jimin murmurs, a forlorn expression on his face as he begins toward the door.

“Jimin, no, wait. Please stay.” You settle on the bed beside Yoongi and hold a hand out to Jimin. “He would want you here when he wakes up.”

“But you are his mate,” Jimin murmurs and purses his lips. You can tell he’s hesitating.

“And you are my mate…but most importantly, you are his love. Now, get your ass over here, or I’ll be forced to make you.” You raise your eyebrows, daring him to argue.

Jimin’s lips quirk in amusement. “You drive a hard bargain.” He kicks off his shoes before climbing onto the bed on your other side. The uncertainty in his touch is gone as he presses up against your back, draping his arm over your side so his hand rests on Yoongi’s chest. Your cheek rests against Yoongi’s shoulder, and your eyes slide closed as you sigh and relax into Jimin’s hold.

Bonding with Jimin, Jungkook, and Namjoon is something you will never regret. Not only did it help bring Yoongi home, but it also has broken down every barrier ever erected between you. The connections to Namjoon and Jungkook hum with potent vitality, letting you know they are drawing on small measures of their magick—probably working in the garden.

“Jimin?”

“Yes, Beautiful?” he murmurs against your neck, his voice soft and sleepy.

“Will you take me to see the Seelie Court someday?”

Jimin shifts behind you, pressing even closer. His lips tickle the back of your neck as he speaks. “Of course, you are my mate. You belong by my side.” The words are breathy, half coherent as he fights the pull of sleep—but you hear them clearly, right down to your soul.

The blanket shifts, almost drawing you out of your half-sleep. Lips brush over yours, making you hum. “Jimin,” you breathe as another kiss presses against your lips. “Go back to sleep.”

“Not Jimin.” Your eyes snap open and meet those green and gold ones you have dreamt of nearly every night. Yoongi presses his lips to yours again, his tongue teasing along the seam. You automatically open for him and can’t help the moan as his alluring clove scent floods your senses.

You pull back, but Yoongi follows, reconnecting your lips in a desperate kiss. “Yoongi,” you try for firm, but his name comes out more like a needy mewl than anything.

“Please do not stop me. I need you.” He pleads between kisses. Yoongi shifts more, rolling onto his side. The movement dislodges Jimin’s hand, jolting him from sleep.

“Y-yoongi?” Jimin murmurs. “What—wow, okay.” Jimin presses a hand against Yoongi’s shoulder. “Slow down, Yoons. We will take care of you.”

The grunt of frustration that comes from Yoongi is cute. He reluctantly pulls back, breaking the kiss and letting Jimin push him onto his back. “Mini, my love,” Yoongi whispers like he’s finally registering who has their hands on him.

“Just relax,” you coo, smoothing a hand across Yoongi’s forehead and pushing his hair out of his eyes. “Tell us what you need.”

“I need to feel you,” he states, reaching for you again. You let him draw you in, the bond blooming tenfold as you give in. His hand reaches out, searching until Jimin grabs it. “I thought all was lost.” The words are whispered fervently against your lips. “Never again.” Yoongi breaks away from the kiss to pull Jimin in. You sit back and watch as they come together, their lips molding and moving with familiarity.

The bond pushes and pulls in an all-consuming way. After you were bonded with Jimin, Jungkook, and Namjoon, you spent the rest of the night in the throws of passion, much like the night you bonded with Yoongi. It’s a visceral thing, a baser instinct that is in control. They each watched as you pleasured and received pleasure in turn but never went so far as to touch each other. So, seeing Jimin and Yoongi get lost in the feel of one another brings a new sensation to your body—one that has you squeezing your thighs together and pulling your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Beautiful,” Jimin catches your attention. He presses light kisses across Yoongi’s chest, his half-lidded gaze sliding to you. “Suck his cock and remind him who he belongs to.”

Yoongi groans. “Yes. Please,” he begs. “I need to feel your mouth on me.”

You sit up on your knees, working with Jimin to shove the blankets back. Yoongi’s body is no longer a patchwork of colors. His skin is now smooth and blemish free like before. Kneeling between Yoongi’s thighs, you marvel at him and the wonder of the infusion Namjoon made.

Before you can give any attention to Yoongi’s straining erection, Jimin catches your chin with a finger and slowly brings your lips to his. He tastes faintly of chamomile and clove, a taste combination you will never grow tired of. All that’s missing is orange and coconut. At the thought of Namjoon and Jungkook, you feel the tethers of their bonds pinch with barely concealed amusement. They know Yoongi is awake and are very aware of the state he’s in—that all three of you are in.

“Be good for Yoongi, little mate, and I will give you your own reward,” Jimin promises with an encouraging smack to your ass.

You need little encouragement. Leaning forward with your eyes locked on Yoongi’s, you run your tongue along the underside of his shaft, earning a guttural moan from him. “No teasing,” he whimpers.

The look on his face is desperate, tugging at your heart. Wrapping a hand around him, you swirl your tongue around the head a few times before taking him into your mouth. His pre-cum is sweet, driving you to seek more. You take him as far as possible, letting your throat convulse around him with the intrusion.

“Perfect,” Jimin says. “You are so perfect.” You can’t tell if he’s talking about you or Yoongi, but either way, the praise makes you moan around Yoongi’s cock. “You like that?” He punctuates his question with a tug on your pants, working them down over your ass until they’re caught mid-thigh. “I think you do.” You can hear the smirk in his voice as he runs a finger between your thighs, delighting in the sticky moisture he finds.

You work over Yoongi, using your hand to squeeze and pulse in time with the suction from your tongue and lips. Yoongi throws his head back and curses when Jimin’s cock pushes into you. “Oh, Jimin!” All three of you shudder, overwhelmed by feeling each other physically and through the bonds.

The tightness in your lower belly increases with each thrust from Jimin and moans from Yoongi. “Make him cum, Beautiful. Do it.”

Yoongi jerks under you as you take your other hand and cup his balls, giving them a gentle squeeze. He moans, his whole body going rigid as the first gush of cum hits your tongue. Jimin’s hips crash into your ass as he follows Yoongi over the edge. The feeling of Jimin pulsing inside of you triggers your own release. You hungrily swallow down all Yoongi gives you, licking him clean between shaky breaths as your body just as eagerly milks everything it can from Jimin.

“Holy fuck,” you pant. Your whole body feels like jello, trembling as Jimin helps you lay back down beside Yoongi. Your pants are still around your thighs. You can’t be bothered to fix them yet.

Jimin stands up from the bed. His half-hard cock glistens in the light coming in through the crack in the curtains over the window. “Are you okay?” he asks Yoongi as he delicately tucks himself away and does up the laces on the front of his pants.

“Much better now,” Yoongi sighs with contentment. “I apologize for my behavior. I was away from you for too long. There was something inside of me, some pent-up possessiveness…When I awoke, I could think of little else besides claiming you in any way I could.”

“You should never apologize for that,” you assure him. “Are you well enough to tell us what happened? What do we need to do? Is everything okay in the Unseelie Court?”

Yoongi holds up his hand, slowing down your questions. “Peace, my mate. I feel well enough to tell you all what happened. Let us begin there.”

🌸🌸🌸

Yoongi

His best friend. His claimed brother. His lover.

Mates to his mate.

She looks so radiant sitting among them, arrayed as they are around the table in front of him. They insisted he sit in the rocking chair to continue resting as much as possible. Jungkook drags the chair closer to the table, fluffing the pillows in the seat and draping a blanket over his knees.

“First, I would like to leave for the Unseelie Court once we finish this conversation. The sooner we arrive, the better. When I escaped, Chaddick was supposedly overseeing a command change within the border guard.” Yoongi shifts in his seat, adjusting the blanket in his lap. “By now, I imagine he is aware of Borgia’s death—“ 

“How did you kill her?” Jungkook asks.

Yoongi gives Jungkook a knowing smile. “Iron through the spinal cord, pushed her limp body over the cliffs along Tidal Bluff.”

Jungkook whistles appreciatively. “Damn. I wish I could have seen that. Good riddance.”

“I was able to confirm that it was through some of her dark magick enchantments and glamors that Chaddick has been able to lie and deceive openly. They”—he pauses and takes a deep breath—” they had been working on experiments. Ones that would allow him to take the magick of another Fey through their death. The first attempt was when he murdered my father. Apparently, Father learned about Chaddick having Borgia try it out on lesser Fey—pixies and dryads from the eastern regions. It is what started everything. Now that Borgia is dead, the truth will reveal itself as the glamor and magick begins to fade.”

Namjoon leans into your side, something that greatly warms Yoongi on the inside. “Good riddance indeed.”

Jimin clears his throat, garnering everyone’s attention. “Well, Yoongi, my love, are you ready to take back your court and greet your people?”

🌸🌸🌸

The journey to the Unseelie Court takes two full days of continuous walking. Approaching the border had you on the verge of panicking, thinking back to the last time you crossed it. But there isn’t a single guard in sight. In fact, you haven’t seen a single other being, other than the occasional woodland creature, since leaving Namjoon’s glade.

“Where is everyone?”

You stand beside Jungkook, his hand tucked into yours, staring up at the vacant battlements along the curtain wall surrounding the castle of the Unseelie Court. The portcullis is up, leading directly into the equally as empty inner ward.

“I do not know. Keep your wits about you,” Yoongi says softly before leading your small group under the barbican and through the front gate.

There is an eerie feeling, standing in the middle of the ward, and the only sound you hear is the breathing of your mates and the crunch of their boots on the pavers. “Something isn’t right,” you say, your voice sounding too loud in your own ears.

“I can still feel the taint of darkness covering the grounds. It leaves a bad taste in my mouth,” Namjoon agrees with your assessment.

You notice a few broken pieces of furniture scattered around the inner walls like it was tossed from windows and balconies above to shatter in the courtyard. Spots of color peek out from the around the furniture. Children's toys and trinkets litter the walkways between the turrets like they were hurriedly abandoned. It’s unsettling. It feels like a tomb; you hope that isn’t some ridiculous foreshadowing. As much as you love a good plot twist, you’ve had just about enough of them lately.

Movement from one of the upper doorways of a balcony draws your attention. You gesture up to where you see another flash of movement. “Yoongi, look.”

“Yoongi, is that you?” calls a soft voice from the balcony. The door opens, revealing a handsome woman with silver hair piled on her head and familiar green-gold eyes. She’s wearing a midnight blue gown, the line of the bodice embroidered with silver stars.

“Mother!” Yoongi exclaims.

“Oh, my boy!” she cries, disappearing back through the doorway in a flurry of skirts. “Yoongi!” You can hear her calling his name from within the castle. It echoes down and through the main hall, where the door is propped open.

By the time Yoongi reaches the entrance, she’s barreling through it. Her loud cries shake her whole body as she clings to Yoongi. “Mother, peace, please. Be calm. I am home.” You can hear the choked emotion in his words as he tries to soothe her, but more prominently, you can feel his flood of emotions through the bond. It nearly buckles your knees.

Jimin cups your elbow, steadying you as you sway on your feet. “Use our strength,” he murmurs into your ear. With a calming breath, you reach out to the other three bonds, letting them stem the tide from Yoongi, each sharing in his sorrow, pain, and joy.

“What has happened here, Mother? Where is everyone?” Yoongi finally pulls away but keeps his hands braced on his mother’s shoulders. Her eyes flick around, taking in the rest of your group.

“Jungkook? Jimin? Seven Hells, what are you two doing here? And a woodland nymph?” Her eyes find yours, and she stiffens. “And her—she, is that—“

“Mother, please, I will explain it all. But, first, what is happening here?”

She gestures vaguely over her shoulder toward the castle. “Chaddick—something went wrong. He flew in on that damned serpent of his and began screaming about how you escaped. I did not know if it was true, but I prayed it was. I tried to rally The Guard, but they would not listen to me. He fled, taking them all with him! Hundreds of Unseelie–everyone from the castle–they emptied the armory and the coffers. I am only glad they left the city alone. I have not yet had the heart to tell our people. They do not know what has happened within the walls, only that the guard marched out the gate.” Her face darkens with anger. “I watched them move south from the parapet. I sent word to the Seelie Court as soon as I could. What did you do? How did you escape? Who is this human?”

He fled to the south. Chaddick is gone. You can feel the disappointment and anger radiating off of Yoongi. “I escaped by killing Borgia. Her body is surely rotting at the bottom of the Lunar Sea by now. The truth will be revealed now. Her glamour died with her. That is what sent Chaddick into a panic. He knows it is over for him. His plans for taking over the Unseelie Court are ruined.” Yoongi takes a step back, letting his hands drop from her shoulders. “As for the woodland nymph, Mother, let me introduce you to one of my best friends who has helped save my life over the last ten years. If it were not for Namjoon offering me sanctuary in his home in the Hollow Lands, I would have had no place to hide. Jimin and Jungkook have been with me every step of the way, guiding me and reminding me to keep fighting. They were the ones that helped me find a way to access my power—all of my power. They brought me her.” He gestures to you. “My mate.”

“I see,” she says, giving you a strained smile. It’s polite but not warm. “Come inside. Tell me everything.”

The inside of the castle belongs in one of your grandpa’s stories. Soaring ceilings adorned with crystal chandeliers and halls that extend into darkness, lined with life-sized family portraits spanning generations. If it weren’t for the haunted feeling from being so empty, you would be far more intrigued with what you pass as you follow along with Yoongi holding one hand and Jimin holding the other.

You stand with Jimin, Jungkook, and Namjoon just behind Yoongi, who is at the base of a dias where his mother sits on her throne—the only place she says doesn’t feel like it has darkness still clinging to it. It takes Yoongi nearly an hour to recount everything for his mom. He leaves out very few details, stopping to answer her questions whenever she asks them.

“It was Jimin’s idea that I try to find a human mate. We knew the possibilities, the potential for access to more power. It was figured that if I could access my inner well and wield more of my power safely, I could use it to defeat Chaddick. At first, that was all I wanted. I did not care who it was or whether or not they stayed after giving me what I needed. But she made me realize that I did care, and even though our time together has not been long, she means more to me than I have the words to express. Someone could argue it is only the bond causing me to feel this way, but I can speak plainly that it is not. Her tenacity and spirit intrigued me before we said our vows. The moment she opened her mouth and cursed at me, I yearned for her fire. She is my reason for breathing, what pushed me to beat Borgia and finally free our people from Chaddick’s control.”

Yoongi’s mother slowly stands up from her seat, her sapphire gown rustling over the stone steps as she comes down to stand before you. “My dear,” emotion and tears choke her words. “I did not mean to judge you. I had always imagined my boys–my boy, finding a mate whom he loved. His love for you is clear regardless of how you found yourself in his life.” She clears her throat, blinking away the emotion in her eyes. “Would it—is it okay if I hug you?”

You laugh, nodding enthusiastically as tears threaten to spill down your own cheeks. She wraps her arms around you, squeezing and whispering her thanks over and over again. When she finally steps back, Yoongi takes her place, burying his face in your neck. You feel three other bodies press in around you, cocooning you in safety and comfort.

Leaning back, his green and gold-flecked eyes meet yours. “Welcome to my home, Beautiful. The home you helped save. You may have it if you wish. You deserve it. Or I will build you your own if you want it. Just stay. Please, stay with us,” he says. Even with darkness brewing to the south, the bond floods with hope, filling you to the brim with possibilities.

“All of us together?” “Forever,” comes three very enthusiastic answers, though they can’t entirely hide the tiny grain of worry underneath it all. You know as long as Chaddick is alive, regardless of how far he runs, none of your mates will be truly safe.

Next Chapter⇾ ⇽Previous Chapter ◅ Back to series masterlist

◅ Back to Main Master List ©️ 2023-05-31 ColorMePurplex2

[lilacbts]

BTS Fae AU

hi! i created a bts fae au that i really want to write a story on. i'm working on worldbuilding right now, and i'm getting a concrete plot together. here is a little bit about the fae race, and the role that each member plays.

the fae are supernatural creatures that reside in a realm parallel to earth. there are seven types of fae, each with their own abilities and affinities.

the fae look much like humans, but are supernaturally beautiful. their lifespans are much longer than humans, aging much slower and staying youthful for hundreds of years. basically, 10 human years roughly equals 1 fae year.

fae have a deep love for nature, creativity, and fellowship. a fae's type determines their unique talents.

other interesting facts about the fae:

fae once lived on earth, but they left for a parallel world after humans discovered their existence and began hunting and killing their kind.

fae of the same type cannot be affected by each other's power, but fae of different types can be.

they have the ability to disguise themselves as humans. this ability is called a glamour, and it is left over from their time on earth.

kim namjoon.

fae of prose.

the fae of prose are masters of words. they are poets, storytellers, and lyricists. the words that flow from their mouths easily influence the thoughts of others.

kim seokjin.

fae of life.

the fae of life feel a distinct connection to the natural world. their instincts are to nurture and protect all that lives. they have a strong need for fellowship and a gift for communication, allowing them to easily persuade others.

min yoongi.

fae of dreams.

the fae of dreams' mere presence calms those around them. they can bring others down into peaceful sleep and spin them fantastical dreams. the role that sleep plays means they also have some dominion over memories.

jung hoseok.

fae of dance.

the fae of dance excel in movement and flight. fae of this type are each drawn to a specific style of dance, using their gift to entertain and enchant onlookers. additionally, they are very strong fliers, born with ornate wings larger than other types.

park jimin.

fae of love.

the fae of love thrive on spreading love to all. it is quite easy to fall victim to their infectious charm, allowing them to sway one's thoughts and actions.

kim taehyung.

fae of allure.

the fae of allure are impossibly charming, and very rare. a touch of their hand or a look into their eyes, and one is easily influenced by their honeyed words.

jeon jungkook.

fae of song.

the fae of song possess otherworldly voices and have a love for entertaining others. those who listen to their enchanting song open their minds to the singer, allowing for easy persuasion.

if you enjoyed reading this, consider leaving a comment or a like! reblogs would be wonderful; they give me more exposure so i can reach more people with my writing :)

please check out the creators of these gifs!

also, take a look at the creator of this divider, @saradika-graphics!

[yoonia]

Fae prince Yoongi meets warrior fae Hoseok and they travel together to find the little fighter fairy Jungkook so they could fight against dark fae prince Taehyung.

[writersrealmbts]

We Could Be: (Hungry) 5

Description: In a world of magic, mortals, and immortals; six souls are brought together to navigate the world. Namjoon had become immortal by accident. Hoseok was born into immortality. Jimin was pursuing immortality. Yoongi had immortality thrust upon him. Taehyung isn't sure how or when he became immortal. Jungkook showed no interest whatsoever in immortality. It's Seokjin's job to help them all learn to live, immortal or not. His job to keep them safe and teach them how to live life while losing people they loved to mortality. It was their desire to teach him how much they loved him. It was their desire to show him just what "We Could Be". Now if only the government would stop trying to mess with them.

Posting Date: 02/02/2023

Wordcount: 1,910

Tags: Magic Au, Ot7 bts, werewolves, werecats, vampires, nymphs, magic users, etc.

AN: Precious Tae.

Previous. Next.

Taehyung knew what it was like to be hungry.

But the hunger that had taken over him when he first presented as a werewolf (were-golden-retriever?) was on a different scale.

Thankfully, his mom had made a big dinner and they were all getting ready to eat it.

Thankfully, his family had the good sense to get out of the house.

Thankfully, some powerful magician was passing by and was able to stop Taehyung’s rampage at the fridge.

Unfortunately, it meant his family had to order food and there was a huge mess to clean.

And none of them knew how Taehyung had become a werewolf.

Continue reading on Ao3...

Previous. Next.

Ot7 Stories Masterpost

Tagging: @park-jimin-isnt-real

[mapofthemazeinthemirror]

📖 𝐈𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱

𝐁𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐚𝐧 🖋️

Home Invasion Series - Yoongi / Jungkook / Namjoon / Hobi / Jin / Jimin / Taehyung (semi hiatus)

Ex boyfriend series - Namjoon

Yoongi's birthday fluff

playing Animal Crossing with you (OT7)

𝐓𝐨𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰 𝐱 𝐓𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 🖋️

𝑺𝒐𝒐𝒃𝒊𝒏

Cursed Prince Soobin

vacation with Soobin

girl dad Soobin

Soobin late to his baby's birth

apple picking with Soobin

dad!Soobin + baby hands

𝒀𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒋𝒖𝒏

Yeonjun suggestive fluff

mafia-dad Yeonjun

Yeonjun determined to be a girl dad

Yeonjun - on camera, off camera

protecting mafia boss Yeonjun (e2l)

girl dad Yeonjun

ex-boyfriend Yeonjun voicemail

new dad Yeonjun

royal reader x nobleman Yeonjun

Bound - princess reader x royal guard Yeonjun

Three Cursed Princes (Yeonjun, Beomgyu, Kai)

wild fae boy finds you in the snow forest

𝑩𝒆𝒐𝒎𝒈𝒚𝒖

Between the Pages (prince Beomgyu)

yandere!Beomgyu

med student Beomgyu x coma patient reader

Boy dad Beomgyu / more

Beomgyu aquarium meet-cute

Beomgyu + your parents

werewolf Beomgyu x kitsune reader thought

Moulin Rouge Beomgyu (suggestive)

Three Cursed Princes (Yeonjun, Beomgyu, Kai)

𝑻𝒂𝒆𝒉𝒚𝒖𝒏

witch reader x witch hunter taehyun

royal stablehand Taehyun

famous soccer player Taehyun

Raven Prince

Taehyun who sees visions of the future

Taehyun as Pokemon

Cursed Prince Taehyun

𝑯𝒖𝒆𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑲𝒂𝒊

boyfriend Huening Kai + plushies

betrothed Prince Kai

prince!huening kai

Three Cursed Princes (Yeonjun, Beomgyu, Kai)

𝒂𝒍𝒍/𝒎𝒖𝒍𝒕𝒊𝒑𝒍𝒆 𝒎𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓𝒔

Playing Animal Crossing

tucking you in before they leave for a night schedule

hybrid!txt protecting their human partner

husband!txt trying to be a handy man

taking you to Build-a-Bear

when you’re sick

hybrid!txt when you smell like someone else

dad!txt + Christmas

toxic ex-husband txt

"don't marry him"

when he thought he'd moved on

university Taebin love triangle

hybrid ot5 thoughts

Txt x vampire reader

Three Cursed Princes (Yeonjun, Beomgyu, Kai)

Txt in the Hunger Games

Txt as Animal Crossing villagers

Sci-fi/fantasy one-shot series: Bound (Yeonjun) / Salvaged (Kai) / Smuggled (Beomgyu) / Changed (Taehyun) / Shouldered (Soobin) in progress

𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦

[thearmyprof]

Waiting for Sunflowers to Bloom Ch. 5

Rating: M

Pairing: Jin/Jungkook

Word count: ~17k (ch. 4: 3,014)

Chapter: 4/5

Genre: Fluff, Non-idol!AU, Fantasy, Fairy Tale

Warnings: No major warnings, see tags below for more details

Prince Jungkook was foretold to have a prosperous and fulfilling life, as long as he weathered the storms on the horizon first. Luckily, he has his trusted companion and best friend, Seokjin, and a wood full of fae folk to help him. A bedtime story about a kind-hearted prince that defeats evil, heals his people, and finds love along the way.

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44570485

Chapter List:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Tags: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Minor Violence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied Sexual Content, Fairy Tale with a Twist, Fairy tale remix, Nymph Kim Namjoon | RM, Dragon Jung Hoseok | J-Hope, Leprechaun Min Yoongi | Suga, Pixie Park Jimin (BTS), Changeling Kim Taehyung | V, Protective Bangtan Boys | BTS, minor character death

CHAPTER FIVE.

“You are sure about this?” Yoongi eyes the younger man with a calculating stare. “You could take more time to rest, you know, little princeling.”

“I have been resting for a year, hyung,” Jungkook says with mild exasperation.

He steps out of the cottage door into the sunlight. He does not allow himself one more glance around the cozy cottage. This will not be his last time visiting, he tells himself. No need to be wistful or nostalgic.

In front of him the rest of the fae and Seokjin are waiting for the last two stragglers to exit the house. As soon as Jungkook steps fully into the sunlight, Seokjin takes to one knee.

“My King,” the general says. The fae immediately follow suit, taking one knee and proclaiming “My King.”

Jungkook’s chest constricts and his face burns red. Mustering the most commanding tone he can, he says, “Rise. Let us go free my people.”

Jungkook had been apprehensive about Seokjin’s army accepting him as King. However, his fears were for naught, as the army was ready and eager to find the late King’s heir alive and well. 

To Jungkook, it became apparent on their journey back to his castle, just how mismanaged the kingdom had been in his absence. He knew of some of the problems because of news brought by the fae in their little forested haven. However, to see the roads in disrepair and refugee camps haphazardly dotting the landscape, he fully realized the depths of his new responsibilities.

This brought him an advantage, however. For every town and village they passed, his army grew in size. It seemed that everyone was ready for the true ruler on the throne and his people were more than willing to do what they needed to to right this wrong.

The fae travel with them through the countryside. They keep themselves mostly inconspicuous as they go, but Jungkook notices they do some of their own work in rallying others to the cause. By the time they reach the castle, not only is their army vastly greater in size, but they seem to have acquired a large band of fae folk as well.

Each night of their travels, they spend strategizing and preparing for the battle ahead. Jungkook trusts Seokjin. He leaves much of the planning to his general, while emphasizing they must minimize civilian casualties where possible. His people don’t deserve any more suffering.

After their strategy sessions, Jungkook and Seokjin retire to their private tent. Both are exhausted from the efforts of traveling and planning, so find relief in just holding the other in their arms as they sleep deeply. They both knew there would be time later to catch up on the years they had missed with one another. There would be time if they made it through this next storm.

Their goal is to remove the Queen from the throne and crown Jungkook as king, the rightful heir, with as few casualties as possible. Much to everyone’s dismay, Jungkook decides to try diplomacy first, with the army ready to call in if talks do not go well.

They were quite a sight entering the royal court chamber. The room is large, enough to hold a couple hundred courtiers—not that these walls had seen that many courtiers since Jungkook’s birth—with high vaulted ceilings, colorful stained glass in the tall windows, and red tapestries. With Jungkook taking the lead in the center, his comrades fan out behind him on either side, making a ‘V’ formation. To his right, in full military regalia, General Kim Seokjin, the changeling Taehyung, and pixie Jimin. To his left, the wood nymph Namjoon and leprechaun Yoongi. The few courtiers clustered in groups throughout the room all stop their conversations to stare, open mouthed.

As soon as Jungkook in mere strides from the throne, he stops and his comrades stop behind him. None of them bow. The Queen is sitting, ornate as ever, with a sugary smile on her lips, watching the group.

“Prince Jungkook! My dear! How absolutely wonderful to see you alive,” the Queen proclaims. Her tone is simpering and sweet. “My dear General, I see you must have found him. Pray tell, in what kind of place must this miracle have occurred?”

“I thank you for your concern, stepmother. As you can see I am alive and well,” Jungkook says. “And as I am here now, I must thank you for your service to the crown. Your task as regent is done.”

The Queen giggles at this. After a moment, she says, “I am afraid I have grown accustomed to this chair, Jungkook dear.”

“Do not make me forcibly remove you from these chambers, stepmother. Let this be a peaceful transition,” Jungkook says.

“With what army do you think you can depose me?” the Queen asks, dropping her sugary mask for the first time. Her lip curls up in a sneer.

“The King’s army is behind him, Madam,” General Seokjin states clearly for the whole room to hear.

“You traitor,” the Queen says pointedly at the general. “I made you. This will be your undoing.”

“My loyalties have always been to King Jungkook, my lady. None other have ever laid claim on my heart.”

“You may have the army, but the people will never accept you. With what will you persuade them? Remember, they are a fickle lot, dear Prince,” the Queen says.

“I have my bloodline. I am the rightful heir to this throne,” Jungkook says loudly.

“That will not be enough. You have done nothing! Nothing for these people. You ran away at the first sign of trouble.”

“I will treat them more fairly and bring them more prosperity than you have ever given them. I love them. They are the reason the kingdom still stands at all,” Jungkook declares. His eyes alight with a new kind of fire. The fae look on, pride twinkling in their eyes. They see a King rising anew.

“Prosperity? Prosperity!” the Queen screams. “You offer them prosperity? With what! The lands fester and die. The animals and fields wither and waste away. The only coin has been bought by the blood of our armies marching on the weak. Do not speak of prosperity. I am the only one who has managed that in the last twenty years!”

“Together, with my brothers, I can promise my people prosperity. I have renewed relationships with all the fae folk. Blessings and good health will soon flow again in our lands.”

At this the courtiers in the room stir. The Queen narrows her eyes and stiffens at the whispers. Jungkook can see the moment she realizes he’s found her weakness.

“And there is more,” Jungkook continues. “We will be blessed once more by the dragon of the mountains.”

The whispers turn to a din as the courtiers relay their shock to one another.

The Queen scoffs. “A dragon? No dragon has been sighted in decades! You think us all fools, Jungkook? Will you play your people for fools?”

There is a clattering of the doors at the entrance of the hall as they are flung open. Flying through them comes Hobi’s beautiful dragon form, lithely turning around the columns holding up the high ceiling as he goes.

Hobi stops beside Jungkook, just to the right of Seokjin, and bows his dragon head to him. Then he turns to face the Queen with faint black smoke rising from his nostrils.

Jungkook uses all his will power to keep the smile off his face, especially upon seeing the unmasked fury on his stepmother’s. He says, “Relinquish the throne and I shall spare your life.”

The Queen gives another quiet scoff. There is silent tension in the room as everyone waits for her to make the next move.

“Bow to your King,” Seokjin commands.

Aside from the Queen, who stands as still as ice, the room is quick to comply. Courtiers fall to their knees and prostrate themselves towards the band of men in the center of the room. Murmurs of, “my King, my King” echo throughout the chamber.

“This is nonsense,” the Queen breathes out in irritation before she flies at Jungkook. If her earlier plotting and poisoning hadn’t already made it clear, the Queen seems to have some kind of magic working in her aid. In the blink of an eye, she’s before Jungkook, arm raised with a dark green glass dagger overhead.

Before Jungkook can even draw breath, Seokjin leaps to his King and throws his body in the way of the dagger. Jungkook yells in alarm as he realizes that Seokjin means to take the dagger in his stead. They both collapse to the ground and Jungkook whimpers over and over, “Hyung, are you okay? Hyung!”

At the same moment, the fae are moving as well. Some move to shield the pair of humans falling to the ground. The others move to stop the Queen. The dragon, fueled by an angry fire that cannot be subdued, is the quickest. In a motion so fast, it is blurry to the human eye, the dragon bites the Queen’s arm off completely. The glass dagger, having never found its mark, shatters to dust when it hits the stone floor.

The Queen’s agonizing screams echo throughout the chamber. However, instead of passively accepting her loss, she channels her hateful energy into a new curse. Namjoon yells a warning before she’s able to complete the spell and Hobi releases a burst of fire from his lungs.

Nothing is left where the Queen once stood but a pile of ash.

~

The sun is long set by the time the two humans are tucked away in the King’s chambers for the night. There was much to do in the transition to power and much that still needed doing. The army would have to spread the word of the new King. Refugees would need help in properly resettling. Trade negotiations would need to be rekindled. Removing the Queen’s cronies from key positions in the government would take time. The list goes on and on. 

However, Jungkook thinks of none of that as he washes up for bed. He pads barefoot and wearing nothing but soft pants back into the bedchamber and sees Seokjin is already turning back the quilts, having changed into a sleeping robe of his own. He looks up with a soft smile when Jungkook enters.

“Hyung,” is all Jungkook says as he approaches the elder and wraps his arms around his frame.

“You did well today,” Seokjin says and he places a kiss on the top of his King’s head.

“You could have died,” Jungkook whines. “If the others hadn’t stopped the dagger, you- you would have died, hyung.”

Seokjin hums into Jungkook’s hair. “And I would do it again, if it meant saving you.”

Seokjin pulls his face back to look into Jungkook’s. In the years they were apart, they both grew up, became men. And yet, their love for one another only deepened. Both can see it reflected in the other’s eyes.

Jungkook makes a choking noise in his throat but doesn’t argue any further. He knows the futility in it. Instead he leans forward and delicately presses his lips in his hyung’s. The order’s lips return the soft pressure. Jungkook can feel the warmth radiating off the other, causing his muscles to relax.

They both deepen the kiss simultaneously, both grateful to have lived long enough to be together in this moment. Jungkook slides his palms over Seokjin’s robe, feeling the muscled planes of his chest underneath the silk fabric. When he’s found the opening, he lets his hands slip inside, admiring the way the elder’s skin feels as if it were on fire. 

Seokjin moans into Jungkook’s mouth as he feels the cool palms of Jungkook caress his skin. His own hands wrap around the King’s biceps, only to release when Jungkook pushes the robe off the elder’s shoulders from the inside. The robe falls to the floor, leaving both parties in nothing but their soft sleeping pants. 

Seokjin steps closer, pressing against the other until they are both falling backwards onto the bed, never breaking apart from their kissing. Eventually, both pull away just far enough to gasp in air, breathing labored.

“What do you want, my King?” Seokjin pants out as he presses kisses all over Jungkook’s face.

“Just Jungkook, hyung,” Jungkook says, closing his eyes and feeling the other everywhere around him. “Here I am just Jungkook.”

“Jungkook-ah,” Seokjin breathes out, almost inaudible.

Jungkook feels the heat burst through his body. They become a frenzy of kissing and touching, ridding themselves of the rest of their sleeping clothes. Jungkook feels as if he’s floating and sinking into the bed cushions at the same time. Their love making is a contradiction of fiery and gentle.

When they recover under the quilts, tangle of limbs and soft kisses, Jungkook stares, memorizing every detail of Seokjin’s face. Jungkook lets his fingers trace all those details, learning the ways the years have changed them.

“My sunflower,” Jungkook whispers into the quiet. 

Seokjin sucks in a breath and moves his hand to cup the younger’ s cheek. He whispers, equally quiet, “My sun.”

~

With the mentorship and aid of his six hyungs and the love of the people, King Jungkook reigns over the realm with a golden touch. The kingdom prospers with renewed trade and peace throughout the land. 

The soothsayers, as it happens, were correct all those years ago. Jungkook, once a soft, sweet boy, weathered many storms to emerge, still sweet but with a fighting spirit. He placed his fae companions as advisors and General Seokjin was promoted to the position of King’s Consort.

The King and his love planted fields of sunflowers around the castle. The bright golden fields glowed in the summer sunlight each year. And each year, the pair walked hand in hand together through the towering blossoms. According to those who witnessed their ruler and his beloved, they would say both glowed bright as twin suns and spread their warm light to everyone who had the fortune of being in their orbit.

Master List