“I’m here to save you, I’m here to ruin you“
Pairings: Faerie!Jimin x Reader / ??? x Reader
Warnings: smut, manipulation, dubious use of magic
Summary: Everyone knows to never trust a faerie
A.N: SURPRISE!!!!!!! The fic that no one asked for but I wanted. I’m super excited for this; it’s going to be a two part series. I have gone in and fixed things so this is also be safe for poc readers
Your foot splashes in the water when the mossy rock you attempted to step upon shifts throwing you off balance. Water rushes inside the deerskin so when you lift your foot back up, the moccasin hangs pathetically off of your foot. You step onto the rock again, more carefully this time, and when it doesn’t move you bring both feet together before leaping onto the next.
Water rushes all around you deafening any and all sounds. The otherwise crystal clear water made the sand and fish underneath unseeable with the white froth of the mini waterfalls and current. There were small pools here and there, where the river was calm and minoes swam, but that was also where the biting flies conjugated. That was also the only place you chose to rest, choosing to sacrifice your skin to the bugs for the coolness of the shade and privacy of the trees.
Your satchel slams against your hip as you jump to another rock and one more step and you’re on the embankment of the river. Tree branches whip you as you push them aside and stray twigs and stalks on the forest floor marr your calves before they snap under the pressure of your weight. Where you want a slight path, it doesn’t exist in a place you’ve never been and so you make sure to tread extra heavily so that at least your footsteps may be seen.
There’s a boulder about a quarter into the river surrounded by smaller boulders. The top of the stone is concave and appears smooth and even enough for you to sit on so you don’t mind soaking your other shoe in order to get there. There’s another rock that’s half in the sun so you can leave your shoes there to dry while you work.
It takes some tugging to pull your shoes off and they land on the other rock with a slap, immediately turning part of the stone dark gray as water trickles out. You tuck the bottom of your dress underneath your legs so that the ends hanging off the sides of the boulder don’t dip into the river and you stare inside your bag contemplating on what it is you want to do. A leather-bound book with blank pages rests prettily inside with the books that do contain ink, two of them interesting to you and the one you’re being forced to read by your mother and suitor.
“You’re not supposed to be here, little one.”
You twist your torso to see a man perched on the small cliff above the bank of the river looking down at you. No, not a man. A faerie.
Your town was riddled with magic. Many women unable to find a husband to support themselves turned to herbal remedies and reading the stars. Farmers and desperate mothers left offerings to Gods, many you knew the name of, some you worshipped, and others that were foreign to you. The night spoke with the howls of creatures sounding other than the beasts men could hunt. And the day ended with bedtime tales of human-like creatures that dwelled into the forest and would steal children from their village with promises of sweets and the honey sounds of music.
The faerie was beautiful, they all were, it was part of their lure. The long limbs on him would look odd if it weren’t for the defined muscle beneath his golden skin. His lips were upturned in a smirk that screamed danger but filled you with the pretense of safety as if this man were your friend. Perhaps if you were a child, this would be easy for him. But you were an adult now, anchored down with the responsibility of having to marry, start a family, and make some contribution to your village and after spending your in-between years wandering the forest and seeing glimpses of them and wood nymphs as they passed by, you knew better.
“Why don’t you talk, little one?” In the blink of an eye, he transported himself onto the sand behind you. You keep your back turned to him and try to read the words on the page but they keep blurring together. “I promise I’m harmless.” Not likely.
He transports again so he’s sitting directly in front of you and it takes everything in you to not give in to the temptation to look up at him. The air around him feels different even, like syrup and it makes you drowsy and relaxed.
“What is your name, little one?”
You pretend to read and he watches you with a smirk still on his face. Your heart pounds against your ribs.
Another trick. The moment you give them anything, your words, jewelry, voice, a name, they would use that to get under your skin. Any offers, whether intentionally given or not, made you vulnerable to them.
Hoseok tuts and strokes your jaw delicately with the tips of his fingers. Goosebumps rise on your arm and you’re not sure if it’s because you can instinctively sense the dangerous nature of him or because you like the sensation of his magic brushing against you.
“I can sense you are unhappy, little one,” he whispers into your ear and you can feel the pull of his words, the hidden promise to escape in his tone. Even if you gave them nothing, they still were able to use so much against you.
“Tell me what it is that weighs you down.”
Flashes of the man that had been pursuing your hand pop up in your mind, you hear the faint sound of your mother’s lectures, the stares of your neighbors, and the sting of rejection as your mocked for asking to become an apprentice. You close your eyes and lean into his touch and the magic of his pull feels like the sun warming your skin or the warmth of a fire on a cold day so when you resist, it’s like a wave of icy water washes over you.
“No,” you spit at him though it has no effect on the grin on his face. He watches as you hastily stand and gather your belongings and slip-on damp shoes onto your dry feet with knowing eyes. A single word. One single word and he latches onto to you.
You’re surprised the faerie doesn’t pursue after you. The woods feel oddly empty and scary without his presence but you know that too is just a trick. You jump at every rustle made by a bird or squirrel or rabbit until you find your way home. People glance at that dirt on the bottom of your dress and your flushed face. You must look crazy as you run home.
You burst through the front door and slammed it shut behind you as you throw your back against it. Your chest heaves and sweat dribbles down the side of your face and makes the skin on your chest glisten.
“Y/N?” your mother calls from another room and she rounds the corner. It takes her a moment to take in your appearance. “What…happened…to you?” she asks slowly, “Look at you, you’re absolutely filthy! You have dirt, all over your dress! And where have you been!? Your fiance is coming very shortly and now we have to get you ready all over again!” your mother scolds.
“Fiance?” Your stomach drops.
Your mother stops talking and looks at you. “Yes, fiance,” she says exasperatedly, “He came for brunch yesterday and asked for your hand and I told him yes. You would have known if you were here and not out pestering the blacksmith or medic. He’s a very nice man and has a very stable future. He’s supposed to be taking over his father’s business.”
Your mother pulls on your wrist since your frozen in shock and that’s the kickstart that gets you moving up the stairs to your room where you’ll have to prepare a bath. You numbly swirl the hot water in the tub before undressing and stepping in. The steam makes you sweat until you sink your head under the water. The only thing you can focus on is the fragrance of the soap and the feeling of your mother viciously scrubbing it into your scalp and then onto your back.
Your mother drones on again with all the ways to act like a proper lady as she twists strands of your hair into a more fitting style. You stare blankly at your reflection in the vanity, makeup adorning your face from the crushed berries, minerals, and rose petals.
Your mother sighs pityingly seeing your expression, “I know this isn’t what you want but it’s what must be done. SeokJin is a nice man. He’ll treat you with respect and perhaps one day you can learn to love him like a wife. But this is unfortunately what us women must do to survive and this is the best I could do.”
Tears well in your eyes as you continue to stare at yourself and your mother wraps her arms around your shoulders and bends to rest her forehead in the groove of your neck and shoulder before kissing your temple and standing straight.
Jin is waiting at the bottom of the stairs with his hands folded behind his back and a polite smile. He bows respectfully when you and your mother reach the last step. You put a smile on your own face though you’re sure he can tell it isn’t completely sincere.
For the next forty minutes, the only sound at the dining table is the sound of utensils clinking against your plates. Your mother attempts to start a conversation and Jin adds in his opinions when asked but the conversation quickly dies with your short, clipped responses. You feel guilty but you’re unable to make yourself say anything more than a few words at a time.
“Would you like to take a walk?” Jin sets his fork and knife down on the empty plate in front of him. Needing fresh air, you nod and Jin smiles and stands, bowing to your mother before he walks outside with you.
You follow a trail in silence for a few minutes. The sky has become dark and the first hints of the night show themselves with a few dots of stars behind the clouds. The warm breeze has turned cool and many people have returned to their homes so the streets are quiet.
“I’m sure your mother has told you of my offer,” Jin strikes up a conversation.
You nod and keep your eyes on the ground.
“It’s quite a bit much,” Jin laughs and clears his throat, “Getting married, planning a wedding.”
You walk by him and listen to him speak, not having anything to add. He speaks more about trivial things that pop into his head and tells you a few jokes. Jin doesn’t seem to mind your silence too much and happily replies to anything you say and you’re glad that he doesn’t push because his presence grows comforting. Not comforting in a way you would think of a husband, but of a childhood friend.
“Jin!” someone shouts out and you and Jin turn to the source of the noise. A figure walks towards you and when they get close enough, you recognize it to be Namjoon.
You remember Namjoon from school, your teacher would use him as an example many times during your lessons. He was a few grades above you so you never truly befriended him but you knew who he was. He joined got an apprenticeship right after graduating and was now one of the town’s bookkeepers. You would say hi to him whenever you went to the library and he was working.
“Namjoon…” Jin draws out his name as though he’s warning him of something. The smile on Namjoon’s face falters when he gets closer and he sees you but he quickly hides it. You miss the cautious glance from Jin as a signal to Namjoon.
“Y/N, hi,” Namjoon bows to you, “I didn’t see you,” he tries to laugh off his embarrassment. Namjoon’s gaze lingers on Jin. “How are you? Did you finish your book?”
“I did, yes. Thank you,” you reply courteously. Namjoon nods and looks to Jin again and an uncomfortable silence falls on the three of you.
Jin blushes and clears his throat. “No one knows now but I should tell you that Y/N and I are engaged.” His voice is meek and he immediately looks to the ground as Namjoon’s head snaps towards him.
Namjoon’s lips slightly part and he blinks away the moisture collecting in his eyes. He clenches his jaw and forces a smile onto his face. “Congratulations,” Namjoon’s voice cracks and he coughs, “That’s wonderful news.”
You want to run. The reminder brings a wave of nausea to your stomach and your skin crawls. But you hide your discomfort with an insincere smile of your own and dip your head in a small bow, “Thank you.”
“It’s getting late, I think perhaps I should walk you home now.” Jin forces his eyes from Namjoon and turns to you and desperately wanting to be alone, you quickly agree. “Namjoon,” Jin calls out to the man departing, “I was thinking about getting a new book to read. Will you be working tomorrow?”
Namjoon stands still for a moment before speaking, “Yes, I will be.”
“Good,” Jin confirms and then you’re both walking away. Neither of you talk on your way back and neither of you wants to. Jin leaves you with a few kind words and makings for future plans.
The next few days pass by relatively calm. You avoid your mother as much as possible as the only thing on her mind these days is your marriage and the prospect of having children. And that’s why you’re running now. The idea of having to become a mother too much for you to handle and rather than staying and talking about the gender of your future children, you ran.
You pound on the door of the house secluded from the rest of your village. When no one answers, you pound again.
“What do you want?” Yoongi rips the door open to your flustered appearance. “Why are you here?” he scowls down at you.
You grin at him, his intimidating expression is meaningless to you. “Can’t a girl just visit the town witch because she wants to.”
Yoongi’s scowl turns into a glare. “No. Now, why are you here?”
“I came to see if it’s done.”
Yoongi sighs and glances past you before ushering you in. His cottage is actually quite large but is made small with all the objects inside. Plants sit on every possible surface turning his cottage into a greenhouse. Wooden and stone bowls lie about and you can smell the scent of burning sage and lavender. A wisp of smoke hugs the ceiling as it spreads throughout the house. A black cat mewls at you from a tabletop and you reach out and scratch the top of its head as you pass by.
There’s a small stone bowl being held over an open flame, held up with one of Yoongi’s spells. The liquid in it is a dark purple, almost black and bubbles with the heat. Yoongi walks around it to a table and clears away some of the space. His cat leaps onto the table and butts its head into Yoongi’s arm and he absent-mindedly begins petting the cat as he leans against the table facing you.
“I’m missing an ingredient,” Yoongi informs you, “I thought I had some stocked up but I must have used it all.” Yoongi scratches the back of his head. “Other than that, it’s almost done.”
“A flower?” you ask disbelievingly.
Yoongi sucks in a deep breath. “I need the seeds from it in order to complete the potion. I checked my garden too to see if any were growing but there’s none.”
“Wouldn’t it be in the forest?”
“Yes,” Yoongi sighs, “but I can’t leave this so I can’t go out to look for it.”
“Okay, so what if I went to look for it?”
Yoongi looks at you with his eyebrows raised before he shakes his head and picks up his cat to drop him on the floor. The cats runs off once its feet hit the ground. He turns his back to you and pulls out a notebook and opens it and you see his hand moving as he draws something on the page. You tinkle with a few of his things for a few minutes as he draws in silence.
“This is what it looks like,” Yoongi rips out the page and hold it up to you. It shows a long stem that branches off multiple times. The petals of the flower are split into four parts and widen out like a fan with bumps at the end. In the middle of the petals is an antenna that splits into multiple parts and has bulbs on the end. “They’re tall and hard to miss but they don’t grow close to here. You’ll have to venture far out to find them.” He lowers the page so he can look you directly in the eyes, “Is this something you really want to do?”
You keep your eyes locked onto his and nod.
His eyes flicker about your face before he presses his lips together. “There’s a chance you could get lost.” He turns from you again and moves frantically pulling out ingredients and setting up bowls and mortars and pestles. He throws in a plant that’s unfamiliar to you and begins to ground it, “I can make something that will help me keep an eye on you,” he slams the butt of his palm on the flat part of a knife to crush a beetle and scrapes it into a bowl, “I’m going to give you this and when you get lost, sprinkle this in a circle around you and I’ll be able to see exactly where you are.”
You fiddle with the locket around your neck containing the dust Yoongi made for you. He stands on the steps before you so he has to look slightly down at you standing on the ground. His fingers are nimble as the fasten one of his cloaks around you and then folds the drawing he made and folding it into your palm.
“Do you remember what to do if you get lost?” Yoongi’s face is completely serious.
“Yes, mother,” you tease him but his expression doesn’t lighten. Instead, he looks at you annoyed.
“I’m serious, Y/N. You’re going to be going out a lot further than you’re used to and there’s a lot of creatures that dwell in the forest. I’m a witch and I’ve had to find my way out of dangerous situations, you’re only human.”
“I’ll be okay,” you chuckle out the reassurance, “You’ve always looked out for me. This is no different, if I feel even slightly unsafe I’ll sprinkle your magic dust. I trust you, now please trust me. I’m only going out to look for a flower,” you tilt your head up at Yoongi and raise your eyebrows.
Yoongi steps down to be level with you and grabs you into a hug. You wrap your arms around his thin waist and rest your head on his chest, turning your face to the side. He holds you there for a few moments before pushing you away and holding you at arm’s length.
He watches until you completely disappear from his view into the forest.
There’s a path that you follow for a while before the grass begins to overtake it and it becomes mangled with the roots of trees and rocks buried in the dirt. The only sounds are of the leaves rustling as birds take flight when you come too close. Sunlight occasionally filters in through the tops of the trees making small sunlight patches and showing the particles floating in the air in it’s rays. You’re lucky Yoongi’s cloak only falls to about your knees because you’ve already managed to snag your dress on a low hanging branch and tear a hole in it.
“Well, well, well,” Hoseok saunters over to you, “I wasn’t expecting to meet you here, little one.”
You roll your eyes and continue walking through the thicket.
“Still ignoring me, I see,” Hoseok laughs. He flashes right in front of you and delicately lifts part of the cloak to inspect it, “I’ve seen this before,” he hums.
You yank the cloak from his fingers and brush past him but he appears in front of you again and you step to the side to avoid him to continue walking but he grabs your arm last minute. His hold is much harsher than what he’s shown before and it catches you off guard.
“Does the witch know you have his cloak?” Hoseok cocks an eyebrow and looks at you arrogantly.
“He knows,” you growl and tear your arm from him. Rage buds in your chest when you hear him cackle behind you and he teleports himself back in front of you.
“Did he give you this?” You swat his hand away as he reaches out for the cloak. This time when you try to go around him he steps in your way. “Did Yoongi give you this, little one?”
You look up at Hoseok in shock and your heart stops. He knows Yoongi’s name.
“How do you know his name?” you breath out.
“How do you know the witch that lives in my woods, little one?” he counters.
He peers at you for what feels like an eternity before he burst out laughing. “I like your spirit, little one.” You twist your face from his palm that cups your cheek, nose sneered at him and stomp off. Hoseok only follows you silently now.
The shadows shift as the sun grows high in the sky then afternoon sets in; all without a pip from Hoseok who still has yet to leave you alone. The microscopic bugs that swarm your head and try to burrow in your hair that you keep having to swat away are a more welcoming presence than the faerie. You hold your tongue but the entire time, your mind has been bogged trying to think of how Hoseok had come to know Yoongi’s name. You could only hope that Yoongi had a safeguard to protect himself from the faerie’s magic.
You unfold the drawing that Yoongi gave you as you come to a patch of flowers and you only get a glimpse before its snatched out of your hands.
“What is this?” Hoseok asks airily though its rhetoric as he’s scanning the page.
“Nothing.” You dart your hand out to try to get the drawing back from Hoseok but he moves his hand from your reach even faster. Each attempt is foiled by Hoseok’s long arms and impossibly fast reflexes.
“Flos pavonis,” Hoseok pips, “Now why would you be looking for this, little one?” His eyes drift to your stomach and he tilts his head curiously, “Are you with child?”
Your nostrils flare and you attempt to grab the page again but Hoseok lifts his hand so it’s too high for you to reach.
“It’s none of your business.”
Hoseok smirks. Another opening. He presses his palm flat against your stomach and you let out a protest and stumble away from him. His smirk grows wider.
“Hmm, not with child so why else would you be looking for this particular flower?” He puts a finger to his chin as he pretends to think. Hoseok sets you on edge as he turns his gaze down to you in a predatory stare. He steps close enough to you so that you’re able to smell his musk. He brings your chin up with a hooked finger so you have to look at him, “Perhaps it’s because the desire to become a mother doesn’t run deep. If it’s a remedy to your natural curse you’re searching for, I can offer you a way to get something so much better than what a witch can.”
The pull returns. The world around you begins to smudge and the hair on your arm raises despite the burning warmth you feel within. Your eyelids begin to droop as you relax in Hoseok’s close proximity and with the little strength you have, you clasp your hand around the locket full of dust.
Hoseok tuts at you and wraps his hand around your wrist to pull your hand away. “You won’t be needed that where we’re going, little one.” His voice seems to drift away from you as you enter a state of half-consciousness. “All you have to do is say yes. Say yes, Y/N.”
“Yes,” you gasp like a prayer, “Yes, please.”
Hoseok feels powerful. And if anyone were watching, they would say that you disappeared into thin air, without so much as a cry for help.
The air is thicker in the faerie realm. It feels like you’re floating as Hoseok carries you through the forest. All the colors stretch and blur together in one giant haze and the feeling is euphoric. You have a dopey smile on your face as your eyelids flutter shut and you feel magic thrum your veins and settle deep in your bones. You wonder if this is how everyone that goes missing feels like because if so, you understand now.
When you wake again, you’re in a large bed under silk sheets enclosed in with sheer drapes. There’s a pink hue to the room that coats the white decorations giving the space an elegant appearance. You swing your legs off the side of the bed and your feet land on a plush rug covering a section of the dark wooden floors. You also notice that the worn-in dress you had left your home wearing had been changed with a silk slip with spaghetti straps and a deep v-neckline.
Sun filters into the room despite you not seeing any windows. Everything feels slower here, as though you were given a sedative that masks the panic being in a different realm would bring. Your locket hangs daintily on the edge of a small dresser across the room and slowly you get up and walk to it. Your hands feel too heavy to hook the clasp.
“Here, let me,” someone softly offers from behind you and before you can look, there are warm hands brushing against the back of your neck and a faint click and the chain feels cool as it rests. The person’s hand gather your hair and they let it fall so it doesn’t pass your shoulders.
You allow the person to spin you to face him and when you do it’s the first time since you’ve been here you remember you have a beating heart and lungs. The magic that felt like molasses sticking to your skin falls away to fresh breath of his magic. It feels as though you’re eating spoonfuls of peanut butter but instead of sticking to the roof of your mouth it’s smooth on your tongue.
His wavy hair takes on the pink hue of the room but you’re not sure if it’s because that’s the actual color of his hair or if it’s white like the majority of the room. Either way, it looks soft and pliable. And his lips are an even richer pink contrasting nicely with the healthy blush of his round cheeks. Despite the intense almond shape of his eyes, his gaze is soft upon you.
“Who are you?” you get the words out with some effort.
The corners of his mouth lift into a soft smile. “I can’t just give my name out to any pretty face. Haven’t you heard how much power that kind of knowledge can hold over a person? That’s something you’re going to have to earn.”
You find yourself rapidly nodding. His name is something you desperately want to know. You can feel the desire deep in your bones like some unscratchable itch. He breathes out a laugh through his nose.
“Come on. Let’s go eat.” He intertwines his fingers with yours and tugs you behind him.
Rule number one of entering the faerie realm: Don’t Eat Any Food
You stare down at the full plate of food in front of you, mouth-watering. The man happily eats across from you and from time to time, your eyes drift to his lips as they wrap around his spoon or press against his cup.
“Ah,” Hoseok’s voice cuts through the dining room, “I see you’ve met our little one.” The man’s eyes follow as Hoseok’s hand crawls to your shoulder and he squeezes. Hoseok takes the seat next to you and immediately a servant rushes out a plate of food. “I assume our Prince has been nothing but courteous to you.” This time, Hoseok’s speaking to you as he takes a bite of his chicken.
It’s odd. This faerie has been pestering you for days and you’re just noticing the sharpness of his jaw and defined edges of his lips. Your hand reaches for the locket.
“No, no, dove,” the Prince has somehow moved behind you and stops your hand. Your fingers relax and your locket falls back to your chest. The Prince looks over to your plate and pouts, “She hasn’t eaten any of her food.”
This somehow breaks from your reverie and the cold feeling washes over you again only this time it feels like aloe on an untreated burn. Your head snaps to Hoseok who you’ve come to realize constantly has a smug look on his face.
“You said you were going to get me something better.”
Hoseok takes another bite of his food and takes his time chewing. After he takes a long sip of wine he pivots towards you in his chair. “I withheld my end of our deal. The remedy you’re seeking, you’ll have to go to someone of a higher power.”
It’s just now that you notice his absence and as though he were able to sense your thinking of him, he returns through the doors, each step elegant and demanding of your attention. In his hands, he holds a parcel and he moves your plate out of the way to set down the mysterious package in front of you.
“It’s food,” he mutters kindly, “I’m not offering it to you so you’re safe to eat it.” His eyes are honest as they bore into yours.
“More than courteous,” Hoseok slips under his breath, fully enjoying the scene before him.
You cautiously unwrap the brown paper to reveal a loaf of freshly baked bread, one similar to the bread from the village baker. In fact, it smells almost exactly the same. The steam wafting from the bread is eerily close to the scent of the wooden house you would pass on the way to school or of the baker’s son as he ran around trying to sell that few loafs leftover at the end of the day.
You eyeball the loaf and the Prince squeezes his hands together. “I got it from your baker. I know this is you and your mother’s favorite kind.”
You look at him with wide eyes. “How do you know that?”
“I asked,” he states simply.
You clench your jaw and ignore the rumble in your stomach the enticing aroma inspires. “I was looking for a flower and Hoseok said he could get me something better.” Hoseok glances at you disinterestedly. “I have someone waiting for me and I promised them I would return, so unless you have something for me, I want to leave.”
The Prince admires you fondly and runs his thumb along your cheek and the sickly sweetness seeps through your skin but now you’re prepared to fight it. “Follow me, dove.” He doesn’t take his eyes off of you as he gives a command to Hoseok, “Hoseok, clean this up.”
“Yes, my Prince,” Hoseok bows with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
You keep your eyes off of the Prince and on the paintings adorning the marble walls. You can feel his eyes on you from time to time and the sensation of him looking at you stirs something between nervousness and excitement within you. He leads you in silence and you blush with the inquisitive glances of the faeries that pass by you and him. They all bow to him and he returns the gesture gracefully and the formality of each second long exchange makes you feel out of place. He stops in front of a set of double doors and smiles at you before pulling both open at once.
Inside is a plethora of fauna that puts Yoongi’s garden to shame. The witch’s garden that you always admired in esteem for the many species of flowers, vegetables, and herbs that stretched around the entirety of his house was microscopic to this. A maze of green stretches on before you so far you can’t tell where it ends. There’s a cobblestone pathway to lead you into the foliage and as the Prince walks ahead, you see bursts of colors from budding petals on closer inspection. The air is warm and nectarous and the dew collects on your skin. While your baby hairs stick your forehead, the Prince seems completely unaffected with the heat.
The Prince stops a patch of yellow and orange flowers that stand tall above both your heads.
“Hoseok informed me what it is you are looking for.”
The Prince drags down the stalk of a flower so the petals brush his nose and you swallow heavily when his eyes flutter shut and serenely buries his nose in the middle of the petals. He opens his eyes and looks to the side at you and with the way the light hits his face, you see the light dusting of lilac upon his eyelid and the darkness of charcoal on his lashes. It was really unfair for a species like him to add to their already ethereal beauty.
“Is this something you really want, dove?” the Prince gingerly asks you and his hands return to cup your face and you nod in his palms. “Why?” his tone is innocent and holds no judgment.
“I want more in life than to just be expected to marry some man and have his children. I want to be seen as more than a vessel and a maid.”
“Many women have the same desire yet they find happiness in the situations they are put in. Is this man you are set to marry really that abhorrent?”
A flash of guilt darts through you at the thought of Jin and how by now enough time has passed so he’s on your front stoop alone while your mother runs about searching for you. Yoongi’s still probably sitting in front of the potion you asked for with only his cat to keep him company because the brew requires someone to stir it every twenty minutes or else it begins to harden.
“There’s nothing wrong with him. This is about what I want,” you sternly tell the Prince and he grins down at you. The odd feeling of pride swirls in your chest.
“Very well.” The Prince stretches up and a sliver of skin shows itself as the silk shirt he’s wearing rides up. He pinches one of the bulbs of a flower and a few seeds tumble from the split open wound. The dimples on his back are so very tempting and the world around you goes hazy until the Prince lowers to his feet and is completely covered again.
The Prince drops the seeds into your hand and closes your fingers around them for you. The pad of his thumb rubs along your knuckles and he moves in closer to you so the fabrics of your shirts brush together with each breath. Oh so very tempting.
“There is a price for those seeds, dove. They contain far more magic than anything you will find in human soil and this kind of magic doesn’t come free.”
Your eyes flicker between his eyes before squinting. “What is it you want?”
The air is getting thicker and your legs begin to weigh you down rather than hold you up.
“A kiss,” he whispers with parted lips. His eyes glance down to yours and he flickers out his tongue to bring moisture to the pink tissue of his lips and you stare conflicted at the movement. “Just one kiss.” You can feel his warm breath and your mouth grows dry and begs for hydration that only the Prince can give.
You can’t possibly bring yourself to pull away, not with how the seeds dig into your palm within a tightened fist and the Prince’s magic seeping into every pore. You can at least say you hesitated when closing the gap between your lips and his.
The Prince’s lips are soft and move delicately with yours until he presses further. His hands slip down your arms and tighten on your hips in order to tug you flush with him and when you gasp at the unexpectedness of it, he carefully nudges his tongue against the inside of your bottom lip. He becomes more daring when you softly moan and meet his tongue with yours and then it becomes a dance where he swirls his tongue before pulling back and sucking your bottom lip in between his teeth and then bruising them all over again.
Your heart beats heavy in your chest but the only thing you feel is the Prince and the butterflies restlessly fluttering in your stomach and lungs. His fingers dig into your flesh.
“Can I?” He presses his forehead to yours and marvels at the redness of your cheeks and the puffiness of your lips that he’s induced. All you can do is nod. “I need to hear you say it, dove.”
Fuck. It’s hard to speak when your tongue is sticking to the roof of your mouth. “Yes,” the confirmation sounds mangled but it’s enough.
He bunches the rough fabric of your dress and pulls it up until your left in your slip and when he takes that off, you’re fully exposed to him. Your nipples button in the fresh air and despite the way his eyes devour you, rather than wanting to hide you feel in control.
You quiver as he brushes the side of your breast and then gently rolls your nipple between his pointer finger and thumb. “How beautiful, my sweet dove. Look at how you respond to my touch.” He’s talking about the way your nipples harden with his help.
“Please. Please touch me,” you beg him fully immersed in his magic.
“What do I get in return?” He teases you and takes pride in the goosebumps that raise on your arms when he withdraws his hand.
Rule number two of entering the faerie realm: Don’t Give In To Temptation.
His eyes set ablaze and within a second, the garden around you disappears and you’re in another bedroom. The size of the room nearly equals the size of your kitchen and living room combined. A large bed sits in the middle of the room covered in pillows and small lights line the top of the walls. Only they’re not lights; when you look closer you can see the sway and brighten and dimmer. A crown of flowers rests on top of a cushion on one of the many vanities in the room and next to that are several chokers, necklaces, rings, and bracelets. The gems on them glisten and scatter light onto the ceiling
The Prince hooks his finger under your chin and draws your attention back to him and he slowly closes the gap between your lips in another kiss. His lips drag slowly against yours as he takes his time and gently pushes you into the bed. He follows without breaking contact when your knees buckle and you fall backwards on the feather-soft quilt.
“You’re so soft,” he praises as his hands leave feather-light touches on your thighs before dipping in between them and pressing on your inner thighs. He forces your legs apart and settles himself in between them, hovering over you so he can capture your lips.
The Prince grinds his clothed hips into your bare core and the satin smoothness of his trousers is a pleasant, foreign sensation. You mewl into his lips and try to lift your hips to meet him but he presses down harder pinning your hips to the bed with his. Your breath quickens to an alarming rate when he slides his lips down your neck, occasionally nibbling at the skin and then he presses his lips to your areola.
His tongue smoothly runs along the tissue before swirling around your nipple. The other breast is being massaged with one of the Prince’s hands and the other is still holding your leg to widen your hips for him. You gasp when his teeth scrape against your skin and he replaces the sensation when he sucks a nipple into his mouth. He does the same with the other breast so when his lips are peppering down your body again, your chest glistens with his spit.
Your breath comes out in huffs when he reaches the space right before your mound and his thumb harshly digs into your thigh. He nudges his nose into your lower stomach, glancing up at you quickly before focusing his attention on your thighs. He starts at your knees and works his way back up until he’s at the junction of your hips.
You fumble with your words as you don’t have a name to call out and in a panic, your mind flashes to the addressal from Hoseok. “My Prince!”
The coals within the faerie burn hotter. He looks at you intensely like a predator stalking its prey. The only difference is you want to be devoured by him.
The Prince dips his pointer finger in your folds and gathers the wetness to trace your sensitive outer lips. He smirks when you jump at his finger brushing against your clit, desperate for attention. After circling your labia a few times, the Prince adds a second finger.
The stretch from his fingers has you clutching the quilt beneath you as he slowly pushed his fingers deep within your core. He waits there for a moment, keeping an eye on your face for any signs of discomfort and when you show none, he expands his fingers into a ‘v’ before bringing them back together and drawing them out. He gradually scissors you open until he’s confident you’re stretched enough.
Sweat beads at your hairline and your chest and cheeks are flushed. The arms in your muscles burn as you keep them tense with the strength of your grip on the bed. The Prince has taken to thrusting his fingers into your core at a rapidly building pace until your juice collects on his hand and each move is indicated with a squelch. It’s only when your breathing is fast enough and the pleasure strong enough to make you lightheaded, the Prince finally places his lips onto you.
He starts off lightly kissing the top of your mound and his soft lips have your stomach muscles tightening and you clenching around his fingers now moving languidly inside you. He pokes his tongue out to leave kitten licks against your clit and the sounds you’ve been holding back escape. Your moans bounce off the wall and sound throughout the room as the Prince adds more pressure to his tongue.
“Oh my god-fuck, I’m so close,” you slur past another moan when the Prince rims your entrance with his tongue then returns to swirl your bud into his mouth.
“Come for me, Y/N. Let me taste you.” He hooks his fingers up so they press into the bundle of nerves and hollows his cheeks so there’s suction on your clit and the coil in your stomach snaps so you’re seeing white. He collects your sweet nectar onto his tongue with small slurping sounds as you come down from your high.
You look down at the Prince through half-lidded eyes and push his hair from his forehead. He meets your eyes at the touch and crawls up to cage you with his arms. You taste yourself on his lips and tongue. Drowsiness washes over you and it becomes a struggle to keep yourself awake but you use what energy you have remaining to reach down and tug on the waistband of the Prince’s trousers.
“No, dove,” the Prince airily giggles as he catches your wrist.
“Let me take care of you,” you pout and he looks adoringly down at you.
You flit in and out of consciousness while the Prince gets up from the bed and comes back with a nightgown and a wet cloth to clean you. You finally succumb to the dream world when he tucks the quilt under your sides and adjusts a pillow beneath your head.
