Archive of Our Own ^beta

Jungkook had two first impressions of Min Yoongi: Wow, what an arrogant boor, and Wow, his magic is strong.

They came on top of the other, so Jungkook wasn’t sure what he thought first. But the strength of Min Yoongi’s magic had Jungkook understanding why his handler was so angry this morning. Jealousy, contempt, and a whole lot of fear that he took out on Jungkook while dragging him into a side office.

Jungkook stood, bound hands behind his back. The metal burned on his skin, but he was used to that, so it was easy to ignore. The chains on his ankles were tight enough to shuffle but not actually walk. He had not been stripped, allowed to wear a flowing pair of breeches, but nothing else. The braided leather collar was the only thing showing his status within the house. He had earned himself six gold charms and five silver. The left side of the collar was full of copper charms for pleasure.

He had no idea, though, that Im Jaebum had decided to sell him. Nor that Min Yoongi (or anyone for that matter) would demand that he be presented in such a way.

He tried not to let the hurt show on his face and he gripped his own hand behind his back to keep from shaking.

And then magic swirled around his skin. Warm, gentle, like the breeze off the ocean brushing his skin.

Jungkook fought hard to keep himself from reacting. He wasn’t supposed to be able to sense magic. Only other magicians could. But it was warm and soft, like a blanket after a bath, and Jungkook felt his eyes shut and then he snapped them open again.

Min Yoongi smirked at him.

Maybe Im Jaebum had no choice but to sell him, or this magician offered him enough that he couldn’t say no. Jungkook didn’t know. He doubted he’d ever know. Im Jaebum was not here to say goodbye. Jungkook tried to breathe through the pain in his chest.

Min Yoongi wore black. Tight trousers, a waistcoat and shirt, a long coat, and knee high, heeled boots. He wore gloves too, probably to reassure others that he couldn’t use his magic. But magic did not work like that. Jungkook knew. His handler did not.

Jungkook stared at him for longer than was appropriate before remembering his manners and bowing ninety degrees, dipping just a bit lower than that. He held the bow for five seconds before standing, back straight, facing forward, looking above Yoongi and not at him.

Min Yoongi smiled and then prowled around him, forcing the handler to step back and away. Gloved fingers trailed over the tattooed vines of his back, leaving a trail of magic behind that went straight to the metal cuffs at his wrists and soothed the burn there.

Jungkook took a very deep breath and did not shiver.

Still Min Yoongi circled him.

Jungkook kept his face and eyes forward.

“Your name is Jungkook,” Yoongi muttered, his voice lower than Jungkook was expecting.

“Yes,” the handler answered. “Bred from the Jeon concubines. Im Jaebum-shi purchased him twelve years ago.”

Jungkook had a feeling that Min Yoongi already knew that.

Yoongi hummed. He stopped right in front of Jungkook and used the gloved hand to grip his chin and tilt his head down so their eyes met. A swirl of blue hypnotized Jungkook for a moment. A manifestation of his magic that people could see.

Wind? Water? Perhaps both.

Jungkook prayed that he wasn’t so out of control that his own eyes flashed orange to answer that call of magic.

“You have a lot of tokens on your collar, beautiful. What did you do to earn them?”

“He--”

Yoongi held out a hand to stop the handler from speaking.

Jungkook was expected to answer. To talk. He can’t remember the last time he spoke out loud in public. He cleared his throat. “I obey orders, Lord Min Yoongi-shi.”

“I am not a lord, darling boy. No need for that title.”

Jungkook did not hide his surprise. Min Yoongi had too much magic to not be a lord.

“I am merely a noble, fourth in line for Min Estates, and a servant to my lord, so normal honorifics are fine.”

“Yes, Min Yoongi-shi. I earned the gold tokens by winning contests of strength, the silver for music and art, and the copper as tokens from the ladies in the house.”

“For sex?”

Jungkook nodded.

“Not too many of those.”

Jungkook bristled at the implied insult, and said, before he could stop himself, “I am one of the lord’s favorites and did not dally with the concubines enough to receive more.”

Yoongi laughed. He trailed his fingers over the ten copper charms, letting them clink together. “Would you like to keep them?”

Jungkook swallowed, eyes widening and stammered, “If-if it is a-allowed, um no? I ... yes.” It was not done. Not when a pleasure slave was sold elsewhere.

Yoongi laughed again, a lower sound of understanding. “My lord will never feel less based on trinkets such as these. He is not the jealous type, and if they mean something to you, then you may keep them.”

“Thank you, Min Yoongi-shi.”

He turned to the handler. “Where are the rest of his things?”

“He has no things.”

Jungkook stiffened uncontrollably, and Yoongi looked at him and then at the man. “We negotiated for his things to come with him. There is no way that I’ll believe that he has not earned himself presents or gifts after twelve years of service. Have his things fetched this instant.”

The handler bowed and turned to leave the room.

Leaving Jungkook alone with Min Yoongi. Leaving them staring at each other for long enough that Jungkook’s magic answered the call of Yoongi’s and his skin warmed. Yoongi smiled slowly and moved nearer.

Jungkook took a quick breath when Min Yoongi touched him again, fingers along his shoulders, following more tattoos along his skin. Magic followed the designs.

“Beautiful,” he murmured and still so softly he said, “And devious, too. Has no one in this palace any magic?”

Jungkook swallowed roughly, but shook his head. Maybe some of the lower nobles did, but no one in the high court, no one who Jungkook saw on a daily basis.

“And how long have you known that you’ve had magic?”

Jungkook did not answer. He could not. He’d spend his entire life hiding to protect himself and his mother, and he refused to--

A gloved hand sliced across his cheek. Quick and sharp, with a burning bite of wind magic behind it.

Jungkook barely flinched, but he gritted his teeth against the magical burn and said, “My whole life.”

“The Jeons have no magic. Your mother?”

“No, but her mother.”

“You mother had none?”

“I don’t think so. She never said, never showed any.”

“You ought to be more than a pleasure slave with the magic that you have.”

Jungkook kept his head high and tried to hide the bite of tears as he said, “She would have been killed.”

Because peasants can’t have magic. Concubines definitely could not have magic. Only the elite. Only families like the Mins and the Kims and the Parks.

“Breeding does what breeding will, and magic has floundered because of the limiting laws of the lords and our King.”

Which was treasonous, but Jungkook wasn’t about to say that.

“Are you allowed contact with your mother?”

Jungkook nodded. “I earned it. We write letters.”

“I doubt my lord will stop you from that. Before that arrogant bastard comes back, since we’re leaving these grounds and traveling quite a distance, I am going to put a magical insurance claim upon you. You did cost my lord quite a bit of money and he does not want you to run off at the first moment.”

Jungkook tried not to let the insult show on his face, but Yoongi laughed anyway. He held up a strap of leather. A straight piece of metal spun and dangled from it, tossing rainbows of light off its magicked surface. Imprinted on the flat front of it was a peacock feather and Jungkook suddenly knew exactly who had purchased him.

The Kims. The heir to the throne. Prince Kim Namjoon, leader and ruler of the largest province under his King Father. He ruled more land than the other provinces combined, and no one, not even the king, attempted to tell them what to do. Everyone in his inner circle held magic. They were the only true coven in the world.

How could Jaebum-Master not mention to him that he was being sold to the most powerful man in their world?

Jungkook’s head went light, and Yoongi helped steady him. “You recognize the feather?”

Jungkook nodded, unable to speak.

“Then you’ll also understand why a magical failsafe is important.”

Jungkook nodded again.

“Good. Open up.”

Jungkook opened his mouth. Yoongi settled the bit in his mouth and the metal did not burn like Jungkook was expecting.

“It’s silver, gorgeous. It shouldn’t bother your skin the way the iron does.”

The leather band secured behind his head and it sat snuggly but not uncomfortably where it should. Yoongi fluffed his hair around it and then pressed his thumb to the feather. A deep, heavy magic poured over him, from his head to his feet. Still warm, still gentle. It did not snuff out nor stop his magic, but mixed with it, so if he did try to throw fire at something, the magic would absorb it.

The iron chains fell away.

“How about you get on your knees while you grow used to the feeling of that?”

And Jungkook was kneeling, without his own consent. He tried to glare up at Yoongi, but did not manage to do more than shut his eyes as the magic wobbled around and inside him.

“You still have free will,” Yoongi said, “but this is a failsafe, remember? Let me show you. I want you to do something, anything. But not until after I stop talking, so it’s not a command.”

Jungkook did not understand, but with the freedom to move his arms, he lifted them up, not toward Yoongi, but just enough to stretch his muscles.

“Stop,” Yoongi said.

And Jungkook froze. It took three entire seconds of eternity for his arms to move again. Jungkook’s breath quickened in panic.

Yoongi smiled at him and said, “A failsafe. And I don’t need to speak the command to make you stop if the magic feels like you’re threatening me. You will not be restrained, except the bit in your mouth. So as long as you obey and be smart, you’ll stay that way. Understand?”

Jungkook nodded.

“Good. Now, why in the heavens would I be left alone for such a long time in such an important place?”

And he snooped, or he kept snooping. His magic twisted around the room, through the desks and into locked drawers and cabinets. Jungkook did not recognize this office, but thought it belonged to one of the head butlers. Jungkook wished he’d known that he was being sold, so he would have been able to say goodbye to some of the maids and butlers. And to a couple of Im Jaebum’s sons, who Jungkook had routinely beaten at swordplay and races.

Jungkook’s knees started to hurt on the rough stone, but he had not been given permission to stand. But he had free will. As long as he did not try to hurt Yoongi. So he shifted and sat, crossed his legs and then brought his arms above his head to stretch out his sore muscles. He shut his eyes and steadied his breathing.

The magic coming from the bit and the spell was not like Yoongi’s warmth, or, not just like Yoongi’s warmth. That was there, but blended perfectly with a touch of light, a touch of earth, and others. Jungkook could not tell how many other magicks. A single heat, like the warning before a lightning strike, stood out and guided the rest. Was that Prince Kim Namjoon’s magic? Jungkook did not know what kind of magic Prince Kim Namjoon wielded.

Yoongi’s magic circled around Jungkook’s stomach, like strong arms from a hug, and Jungkook tilted his head back at the touch. It felt beautiful, pure, and nice. Those without magic, those who feared it, always expected it to hurt, to be harsh and wicked. It could be, when used properly.

The soft gloves cupped Jungkook’s cheeks and Yoongi stepped close to him, tilting his head back. “You love it.”

Jungkook nodded.

“Interesting.”

Lips pressed fire to his forehead, and Jungkook swam in the combined magics. A moan escaped and he tilted sideways, only held up by Yoongi and the magic.

“Very, very interesting.”

Yoongi stepped away and Jungkook whined at him, cutting the noise off when he heard multiple footsteps outside. Jungkook lowered his arms, rested his hands on his knees, and tried not to look so debauched and turned on from a few moments of magic on his skin.

A large trunk and three bags were brought into the room. Jungkook knew that was not everything, but he did not want to cause problems.

Yoongi frowned at the small pile and then said, “That’s all?”

“Yes.”

“We’ll have Jungkook look through it when we arrive back at the estate and then we’ll contact you if he says anything is missing.”

The handler’s face hardened, but he said nothing.

“Now. Let’s go. My carriage is still out front, yes? Jungkook, on your feet. Come along.”

Jungkook rose, fluid and graceful under the magic and his feet made him walk right behind Yoongi for a few steps before the magic released him. He followed on his own, leaving the chains behind him.

The handler led them, not to the front, as proper, but toward the side, closer to the stables.

Jungkook felt Yoongi’s ire through the magic, but he said nothing. It wasn't proper. None of this was proper. Jungkook had been present when lesser pleasure slaves had been sold and they earned more pomp than Jungkook. Wasn't he Lord Jaebum's favorite? Yet they were being shuffled off to the side with none of Jungkook's things and without Lord Jaebum there.

Maybe ... maybe he wasn't the favorite. Maybe Lord Jaebum was glad to be rid of him. Had Jungkook's arrogance finally tossed him aside?

The carriage was tucked under an arch, the rising sun casting it in shadows, hiding it away. Yoongi tutted In disapproval. He had a whispered conversation with the driver. The horses stamped nervously.

None of this felt right. Jungkook had never felt so discarded.

Yoongi turned and smiled softly at him. He may have meant to say something reassuring, but a shout of Jungkook's name from the other side of the courtyard interrupted him.

“Jungkook-ie!”

Lord Jaebum. He strode across the cobbles, leaving servants and townsfolk skittering out of his way. His robe flared wide, showing only the barest of breeches and a cream tunic. He wore none of the finery expected. Gods, he was wearing his nightclothes! And his house slippers!

Jungkook gnawed on the bit to keep from smiling.

Yoongi's magic did not stop him from falling to his knees and putting his hands and forehead to the ground. Perhaps too formal of a bow on a normal day, but they were in full view of many people.

Jaebum-Master stopped just in front of him, the toes of his slippers right against Jungkook’s fingertips. “Jungkook, darling. I’m sorry.”

Jungkook shook, happy that he had not been forgotten, but so confused now at this gesture.

“He belongs to you now, but if I may?”

“Of course,” Yoongi said. “He is still upon your lands if you've changed your mind. Not quite anyone’s but his own at the moment.”

That was definitely not true.

“My darling.” And Lord Im Jaebum kneeled in front of Jungkook.

Jungkook made a noise of protest, pushing up.

Jaebum-Master laughed at him. “You hush.” He cupped Jungkook's cheeks and looked at him as if they were in private, soft and visibly upset. “I'm sorry. I was told Min Yoongi-shi would not arrive until tomorrow. I postponed your celebration. Heads will roll when I find out who did this to you.”

Jungkook knew, somewhere, that he spoke the truth. That he'd behead someone for this. But Jungkook was not worth someone's life.

Jaebum-Master looked up at Yoongi, his finger on the hook of the bit. It loosened, though the magic did not, and then Jungkook was kissed. In public!

He froze with a surprised inhale, and Jaebum-Master chuckled against his lips. “Let them watch and let them understand just how angry I am. I meant to spend the entire day with you. I had already rearranged courts and every one of my meetings today. You were to be pleasured and worshiped and loved as you deserve, as my heart would allow. Only when I asked about breakfast together did a maid say that you had already been given to Min Yoongi-shi. I ran here.”

Jungkook believed him.

“There was to be a banquet and gifts. I know many in the household have something for you. But ... where are all your things?” He looked around the empty courtyard, frowning at the small pile near the carriage.

“This was all Jungkook was given,” Yoongi said, “and I had to ask for it. The man who led us here has suspiciously disappeared.”

Jaebum-Master’s face hardened and he snapped at one of his attendants to organize the packing of all of Jungkook's possessions. “We’ll send them to you. How dare they try to keep those things that were gifts to you!”

Jaebum-Master took a very deep breath and kissed Jungkook again. He took Jungkook’s hands and put them against his own sides. Jungkook would have already done so, had they been in private, but he was not allowed to touch without permission when they were in public.

Jungkook leaned into the touch on his cheek.

“I’m sorry that I did not tell you. I had planned today to explain. I should have told you last week, after I had finalized the price for you, but ... I couldn’t. I was selfish and wished to be happy with you for as long as I could. But I meant to explain. These traitors tried very hard to make you feel so insignificant, didn't they?”

Jungkook nodded.

“Did Min Yoongi tell you how long Prince Kim Namjoon-shi has been offering to purchase you?”

“Offering?” Yoongi snorted.

“Yes. More like, politely demanding.” Jaebum-Master grinned. “Since last spring, Jungkook. Almost an entire year. And every offer, I refused. I don't think Prince Namjoon would ever resort to threats, but I'm sure that would have happened soon. Every offer was a bit more money, a bit more land, a bit more wealth. Every two weeks. He dared to put a price on your body and what you have meant to me, even after refusing so often.. And then ...” He trailed off with a sigh.

Jungkook understood. At the beginning of the month, the dam failed and flooded the villages to the south. Farmlands and homes and the local college were all destroyed.

Jungkook nodded in understanding. Perhaps Jaebum-Master could have petitioned the king for relief and emergency money, but that would have taken months that the villagers would not have had. A famine would have surely followed. But that dam had been fine for years, and reinforced not long ago.

Jungkook looked at Yoongi, eyes narrowing, and Jaebum-Master laughed, a delighted sound and cupped the back of Jungkook's neck.

“Are you accusing them of sabotage, just for you?”

Jungkook did not blush when Min Yoongi laughed as well.

“No, my darling. It was not sabotage. I had planned to fix the dam this season anyway. Now with you here in front of me, I fear I've made an awful mistake. What will I ever do without you?”

He kissed Jungkook again, sighing against his mouth.

“I meant for so many things today. Wait. Did you have breakfast?”

Jungkook shook his head.

“He was fetched as soon as I arrived,” Yoongi said, “even though I said I would wait for a more appropriate time in the morning.”

Jaebum-Master sent another attendant to the kitchens. “Heads will roll,” he muttered again.

“I'm not sure you can execute people over a pleasure slave,” Min Yoongi said, voice laced with humor.

“No, but I can find another reason. And I will. For you, I will.”

Jungkook wanted to express how stupid that was, but held his tongue. They were not in private for him to speak without prompting.

Jaebum-Master trailed his finger over the gold and silver charms on Jungkook's collar.

“I told him he could keep the collar,” Yoongi said. “Namjoon won’t mind at all.”

“Good. He deserves to.” He held out a hand and took a box from another attendant. He showed Jungkook and then opened it.

Jungkook gasped.

Laying on the padded interior was a charm, not a simple circle of fine metal though, but stones. Stones that sparkled in the light and that held magic of their own.

Yoongi gasped, and Jungkook watched the magic light shine around the charm.

“This was to be presented to you this summer, to celebrate your anniversary. I have been planning this for at least half of those years, for all your perfect, wonderful service.”

Jungkook reached for it and pulled his hand back. Jaebum-Master took his hand and settled the charm on his palm.

There were five small diamonds, cut into almost perfect globes. They were connected by a delicate silver thread. At the bottom was a much larger emerald, flat on one side and faceted on the other. The deep green stone practically glowed with earth magic and it took a long time for Jungkook to control his own magic, to stop himself from growing flowers in his palm. He doubted Jaebum-Master knew of its powers, but it was large and expensive.

Jungkook looked up, vision blurred with tears.

“It was meant to show how absolutely precious you are to me. It still means that, but ... I'm sorry, my darling. I'm sorry that I must put my people before you. I'm sorry.”

And Lord Im Jaebum cried. It was only a single tear, a single hitch of breath, but it was enough to show Jungkook how very sincere the normally stoic man was.

Jungkook clenched his hand around the token and moved to duck his head under Jaebum-Master’s chin for a hug. He held him tightly, and Jungkook fought back his own tears.

“I swear if these witches don't take care of you that I will use their own money to move an army against them.”

Jungkook held his breath at the not-quiet vow of violence and then laughed. “Don't do that,” he whispered carefully. “I'm not worth that.”

“You are. You always will be. Someone else thought so too and sabotaged your proper farewell.” He separated them and held out his hand. Jungkook put the charm back in it and then tilted his head back. Jaebum-Master secured the charm to his collar, right at the front, and the emerald settled below Jungkook’s throat. Yoongi’s coven magic flowed through it, grew stronger, and Yoongi made an interested noise.

“Are you protesting, Min Yoongi-shi?” Jaebum-Master asked.

“Of course not. It looks beautiful. He looks beautiful. He can keep it and wear it with pride. He’s earned it.”

“He has.” Jaebum-Master turned back to him, cupped his cheek and kissed him. “I will miss you.”

“I’ll miss you, too,” Jungkook whispered. “Write me letters?”

“Of course, and I know that my sons will be quite angry that they did not get to say goodbye to you, so I will have them write also.”

“Perhaps we can stay,” Min Yoongi offered, “for the celebration.”

“No, not now. This is treason. And I will find those who did it before they can think they can slip away.”

Jaebum-Master held Jungkook until the attendant had returned from the kitchens. They rose from the ground and Jaebum-Master held Jungkook’s hand and then properly presented Jungkook to Yoongi.

Yoongi kept his voice low and said, “He’d been shackled on his way to me, iron against his skin at his wrists and his ankles. If you cannot behead them, send them to us. We’ll do it.”

Jaebum-Master nodded. He gave Jungkook one more kiss, and then he reattached the bit in Jungkook’s mouth and the magic swirled around him again. Jaebum-Master helped him climb into Yoongi’s carriage, keeping his hands on Jungkook until the last moment. Jungkook moved over the floor of the carriage and fell against a large pillow. He kept his face hidden when Yoongi climbed in after him and he let himself cry. Yoongi let him cry too.

-----]o~~

Yoongi's carriage moved much faster than Jungkook expected. The green meadows and tall trees blurred out the window. Jungkook pouted. He'd not been outside the walls of the compound in years.

“What is it, darling?”

Jungkook glanced at Yoongi, where he sat on a padded bench. Jungkook had been given a place to lay down, a soft bed surrounded by a slight edge. Yoongi had not stopped him from sitting up to look out the window.

“The Kim stronghold is far from the Ims,” Yoongi explained. “I have no desire to travel under current methods when I don't have to. The horses are in stasis and my wind magic is carrying us home.” Yoongi tilted his head. “But that's not it. You're disappointed, not afraid. Don't worry, beautiful. We don't plan to keep you locked up indoors. You'll grow to despise the outdoors.”

Jungkook seriously doubted that. One of his favorite places in the Im Estate was the inner courtyard where he would swim and bask in the sunshine during the few moments when the inner fountain was brightened and warm.

Jungkook settled down on the pillow, watching Min Yoongi watch him. There was a soft smile on his face and his magic felt pleased and neutral. It was good to know that Jaebum-Master had not meant to toss him away, that he would be missed, but he knew nothing of where he was going. Would Jaebum-Master have warned him?

Yoongi had expressed surprise that Jungkook felt his magic. But Prince Kim Namjoon had been requesting to purchase him for six months. What could the Peacock Coven want from him? If he was only purchased for pleasure, surely they would have looked elsewhere after Jaebum-Master’s repeated refusals. Jungkook was not the only pleasure slave that knew how to suck dick properly.

The only thing that made sense was that somehow the coven had sensed his magic.

For what end, though, Jungkook could not imagine. Having magic didn't mean he was less of a peasant, less of a slave. It meant he was more of one, because he would be killed if anyone found out. Maybe that is what was going to happen. The Peacock Coven were gathering strong magic users to kill them.

But Min Yoongi’s magicks would surely have felt more sinister if that were true.

The possibilities made his head hurt, and his heart still hurt as he was hurled away from the only home he knew. Jungkook curled up with a blanket and let his eyes close.

They arrived late into the night, with the moons about to cross in their monthly travels and the eastern stars dimming from the sunrise.

“It's late,” Yoongi said, “or early, but it's imperative that you met Namjoon-ie right away.”

Jungkook expected that. Prince Namjoon would need to be sure of his purchase.

The air held a chill. And the sky felt so big despite the giant mountain to the east. The brightened yellow light from the moons blended through the dark and into shadows of deep blue, dark gray and ended in a white glow at the tops of the mountains.

Snow.

Jungkook had never seen snow before. The Jeon and Im Estates lay south where the weather stayed mild all year long. He heard that the northern mountain ranges always had snow. The Palace of the King lay east, in a temperate valley nearer the coast.

A team of servants took the horses, and Yoongi led the way into the dark castle. Not through the front, but around the side. At the inner courtyard, Yoongi pointed up toward a light in a window.

“As expected, he is awake. Maybe now with you here, the obtuse prince will sleep.”

Jungkook followed Yoongi through the dim hallways. Light sources brightened their way. They were not candles, but maybe rocks. Jungkook could not tell. They sat flush against the stone, built into the stone, with no visible reservoir of oil.

Jungkook fought the urge to stop and examine them. But he stepped closer to the wall, near one, and the light brightened, reacting to his magic. It felt like laughter, and a series of the lights brightened ahead of them.

“Jung Hoseok,” Yoongi said. “He specializes in light and shadows. The magic likes you.”

And the hallway brightened a bit more around them as they continued on.

A servant near a door bowed at Yoongi before turning to open the door. Yoongi dismissed the man to his bed and led Jungkook into a library. The room was large but felt small, crowded with shelves upon shelves of books. They lay in haphazard piles and teetering towers. Some were open on desks and chairs. And one was held in the hands of a tall man as he paced, muttering under his breath.

Prince Kim Namjoon was tall. Jungkook did not know before this moment what the prince looked like, but there was no mistaking him for anything but royalty. He held himself up, his shoulders broad, his back strong. He had long legs and muscled shoulders. His deep brown hair was long, pulled up and wrapped lightly atop his head, so the ends snaked down his back. He wore a fitted blue shirt and black trousers. A robe lay over his shoulders, but it was multicolored, sewn together in large, vertical bands of color. Of blues, greens, reds, purples. Like peacock feathers.

Prince Namjoon spun around, and Jungkook held his breath as their eyes met. He was so handsome, with high cheekbones and wide eyes. A teasing tendril of flame twisted around his fingers, a momentary burst at probably the surprise of seeing them. He had been engrossed in the book.

“Darling,” Yoongi said. “I'll save my breath reminding you of the hour, but may I present Jeon Jungkook.”

Jungkook fell to his knees on the stone floor and pressed his head to the cool touch, hands open and outstretched, palms up in supplication.

An irritated noise filled the room. “You do not need to bow to me. Get up.”

The magic that Jungkook had almost forgotten about made him stand. He shut his eyes against the wave of dizziness that came from the strength of the magic so close to its master.

And then Jungkook kneeled again, head bowed, arms out.

Yoongi laughed, and the prince told him to get up again. Jungkook did, and then kneeled when the magic let him.

“You should be bowed to,” Prince Namjoon said, “not debasing yourself--.”

“Leave him be, Joon-ie,” Yoongi said. “He is a pleasure slave and might I remind you again that you're the Heir Prince. It is an honor and a privilege to bow before the prince.”

Namjoon huffed.

Jungkook lifted his head. Their eyes met again, and Jungkook did not look away, despite how rude it was too look directly in the eyes of royalty.

“He is not a pleasure slave here,” Prince Namjoon said.

“Perhaps you'd like to tell him that.” Yoongi moved next to Jungkook and released the bit in his mouth. The magic stayed. “Why don't you explain to Joon-ie all the thoughts in your head during our trip here.”

It wasn't a command, so Jungkook kept quiet. The likes of him were not allowed to speak in front of royalty, even given permission. Yoongi tsked at him and tugged harshly on his hair. Jungkook tilted his head back with a sigh, letting his body sag into submission.

Prince Namjoon said Yoongi’s name in horror.

“He's a pleasure slave, dear. Keep up. Come on,” Yoongi said, and the comforting magic of the protection spell slithered away from him. “No manipulation. No orders. Just you. I want you to tell Namjoon why he just wasted a hundred thousand gold pieces on you.”

Jungkook's eyes shot open. “A hundred thousand?” he practically shouted. “Are you insane?”

Yoongi laughed and tugged more harshly on his hair. “He is, and still a prince.”

Jungkook bowed. “My apologies. Are you insane, your Highness?”

Yoongi laughed even louder and put his hands on his shoulders. “Oh, I like him a lot, Namjoon.”

Namjoon's nostrils flared.

“Now. Thoughts, please.”

Jungkook kept eye contact with Prince Namjoon. He took a deep breath and really hoped that Prince Namjoon did not think of what he said next as treason. “If you had only wanted a pleasure slave, you would have looked elsewhere after Jaebum-Master's refusals. So the only proper coven in the nation wants me for my magic. But I'm still a slave, no matter if I have magic. I'm the bastard son of a concubine. I'm not royal and I'm not educated. But I'm smart enough to know my place. And it is here, on my knees, preferably with a cock down my throat.”

“You're powerful,” Prince Namjoon said, voice rough.

“I am, but my mother isn't. My siblings aren't. I have seven of them. Two younger sisters promised to the Choi’s harem as soon as they reach a proper age. My two older sisters belong to the Parks. I have three brothers, two in the stables at the Jeon Estate, and the third crippled by a noble Kim for something trivial that he’d claimed as an insult and demanded retribution for. If you announce me, announce my magic, my entire family will be killed. It will spark an inquisition. Because the only thing scarier to a noble than a dissatisfied servant is one with power.”

A chuckle to the right startled Jungkook hard enough that he pulled his own hair still in Yoongi's hand.

“Yeah, I like him,” the new man said.

Wow. Jungkook had never seen someone so handsome. He was tall with broad shoulders, and hair short enough to be considered scandalous for a noble. He had expressive eyes, a firm chin. Plump lips. Jungkook's mouth watered with how much he wanted to taste those lips. He was tall too, dressed in loose robes and trousers. Nothing as ostentatious as the prince’s clothes, but still bright colors of blue and green.

Prince Namjoon crossed his arms and glared at the man. “Of course you do because he agrees with you.”

“We all agree with him. You're the only one who doesn't.”

The man kneeled in front of Jungkook and said, “Hello, beautiful. I'm Kim Seokjin.”

Definitely a noble. He could not bow with Seokjin in his way, but lowered his head in deference.

“Almost eight hundred years ago, those with magic were pulled into the house of the king and given the name of Kim. Five hundred years ago, many of those left to reestablish their houses and reinstate their names, sparking a fifty-year war.”

Jungkook nodded.

“Afterward, it wasn't the Royal Kims to put laws against peasants with magic. It was the Parks, right?”

“Yes, because they feared what they did to the Kims happening to them.”

“Indeed they did, but Namjoon's however-many-greats great grandfather created the Treaty of the King, establishing the familial estates. Within a generation, the magic started dying out. The Ims used to have magic. So did the Jeons.”

Jungkook's eyes widened. “That's ... treason.”

“Hm, it is. But it is also the truth and any king who hides behind lies shouldn't be a king. Yes, we felt your magic, Jeon Jungkook. Park Jimin felt you first. But not just because you have a lot of magic, but because you have Jeon magic. Count with me. How many noble families are there?”

“Seven.”

“And how many members are in this coven?”

“Six.”

“And how many magic types are there, broadly?”

“Seven.”

“Such a good boy. Do you see the connection?”

“You can't ... but you can't make me a coven member,” Jungkook said, voice raising in panic. “I’m a slave!”

“Like that would stop us, pretty thing. And besides, if we do, that doesn't mean everyone will know. The world only knows about the six of us in the Peacock Coven because we let them. We don't have to let them know about you.”

Jungkook narrowed his eyes. “If I refuse?”

Seokjin shrugged. “It is your right to refuse, no matter what our prince says.”

“I don't have any wish to commit treason. You may all be forgiven after showing enough contrition, but I will not. I'm a peasant, a slave, a bastard son to the lowest of noble families. I wouldn't even be given a proper beheading and my corpse would be fed to the pigs.”

Seokjin grinned. “And those of your family also.”

Jungkook nodded.

“Namjoon's under the impression that you would jump at the chance of freedom.”

“My freedom is not worth the life of anyone else.”

Seokjin hummed. “Is anyone's?”

“No. All life is precious.”

“Before you stalk off in a royal snit, your majesty,” Yoongi said, “you really need to see something.”

Prince Namjoon stopped near the door that he was about to stalk out of. “What?”

“Jungkook, when Lord Jaebum put that emerald in your hand, a wave of magic flew through you and you cut it off. Can you show us what your magic wanted to do?”

Seokjin shuffled away, giving him some space.

Jungkook didn't want to but it seemed silly to hide his magic from someone who already knew. He held out his hand and shut his eyes, remembered the warmth of the stone, felt his magic through it and to his palm. He hissed against the sharp pain as a flower, a small white daisy, grew from the middle of his palm.

Prince Namjoon sucked in a breath, Seokjin made a noise of distress.

“But ... that's impossible. He has ... fire--not, he's not--” Prince Namjoon cut off with a growl.

Yoongi shook his head. “Jungkook is not a lot of things, love.”

Seokjin took his hand again, tutting at him. He used magic to pluck the flower, tucked it behind Jungkook's ear with a smile, then ran his hand over Jungkook's palm, healing the small cut.

“You should not use your own essence to create things, but use the essence around you,” Seokjin said. “You stink of fire magic. When you use it, do you burn yourself?”

“Not anymore.”

“Exactly. Because you aren't using yourself. Use the essence here.” He waved his hand above Jungkook's palm. “Namjoon is in such shock because you shouldn't be able to wield earth magic and fire magic at the same time.”

“Oh, so not this either?” Jungkook cupped his hands and let them fill with water before taking a sip of it. He was thirsty and he had more.

The sound of the drops hitting the stone filled the silence.

“N-no,” Seokjin said. “Definitely not. No one is supposed to be able to control more than one, maybe two magicks.”

“Oh. Sorry?” Jungkook decided not to tell them about the time he healed his own broken leg or how he could learn music just by hearing it once and then recalling it perfectly.

“You've done nothing wrong, flower.”

“Everything about him is wrong,” Prince Namjoon said and left the room in what Yoongi had called a royal snit.

Jungkook winced.

“Ignore him,” Seokjin said. “He is very humble for a prince, but he does not like to be wrong, especially when it comes to matters of ethical considerations.”

“He's a pretentious bastard,” Yoongi muttered and ignored Jungkook’s outraged noise of protest. “Come on. Let's get you to bed. That flowering spell drained you.”

Jungkook didn't think it had but he wobbled when he stood up and did not protest when Seokjin hooked an arm around his shoulders.

“Up and light,” he whispered and magic tingled through Jungkook’s body. He practically floated into his arms and Seokjin carried him. He dozed off. It'd been a long time since he exhausted himself with too much magic.

The bed was soft, the light calming, but it felt ... off. Wrong.

He stopped Yoongi from leaving and said, “Can I have it back?”

“Have what back?”

“The .. magic?” He blushed. “The bit. The ... please?”

Yoongi smiled and said, “Of course, darling.”

The comfort of magic warmed Jungkook through his skin. He opened his mouth for the bit, pressing a kiss of thanks to Yoongi’s fingertips. Yoongi hummed, a soft noise and said, “We do own you, after all.”

-----]o~~

Jungkook woke up to warmth. The warmth of the afternoon sun, the warmth of the magic still around him, and the warmth of lips on his neck, of a body pressed over him.

He thought only for a moment that he was still with Jaebum-Master. He let his heart hurt and then sighed and stretched.

“Ah, there's my little firefly,” a voice said. A new one. Not Yoongi or Seokjin. Soft and airy. Jungkook did not try to guess who, did not really care who. It was familiar in the way that dreams were. Wispy and light.

The lips on his neck were distracting. Small hands left shivers of power along his bare sides.

“I was sent to get you out of bed but I don't think I want to.”

Jungkook did not want to either. He'd been too tired to really feel the loneliness creep in last night, but it had been there, floating beyond the magic around him.

Now, in its place were kisses and touches. He liked that a whole lot more.

“I think I'd like to kiss you though, so how about you turn over and let me see your pretty face?”

The magic wasn't sure if that was an order, but he still felt a pull to obey. But that was all him, as a pleasure slave. He liked to obey.

He lifted his arms above his head and stretched. The weight moved off of him only long enough for him to turn over and then settled against him again. Soft touches trailed through the charms on his collar, making them clink together.

“Beautiful.”

The word may have been meant to describe Jungkook, but by the gods, the magician who said them was breathtaking. Soft face, delicate, with plump lips and silver eyes, light blond hair. He wore about as much as Jungkook, an open silk robe and thin drapey pants, bunched up around his knees. Jungkook wanted to touch his thighs, bulging as they were from straddling Jungkook's hips.

“Jin-hyung said you like my magic all over you.”

Ah, this was Park Jimin. Jungkook nodded.

Jimin pressed a finger to the peacock feather on the bit and a wave of warmth buffeted him. He moaned, bucking up like an untrained colt.

“Hold still,” Jimin said and the magic held him still. But his brain kept quivering, the shakes even harder when the magic released him.

Jimin’s laugh was delightful. Jungkook tried to glare at him, but his eyes shut as teasing whispers of magic swept over his body.

Jimin removed the bit from his mouth and then muffled Jungkook's noise of protest with his own lips.

“You'll have to forgive our ridiculous prince,” Jimin said, lips only leaving Jungkook’s when they had to in order to form coherent words. “He's never had a pleasure slave unless you count Jin-hyung. They have been lovers since they were teenagers. Namjoon-ie is a bleeding heart. He despises slavery and serfdom. He doesn't want to be a king and is trying to formulate how to rise against his Father without making the same mistakes as the Parks did hundreds of years ago.”

Jungkook looked at him carefully and then said, “You all throw thoughts and statements of treason about so casually.”

Jimin laughed. “It's because we can. The Peacock Coven is stronger than any other group of magicians.”

“And a well-promised reward will find poison in your dinner.”

“Yes, that has happened. Did you know that this castle is not the main one of our province? This one is more easily defensible with Seokjin’s magic. He has material magic, earth, stones, and flesh.” Jimin trailed his finger down Jungkook's chest. “He could do so many delicious things to your body, firefly.”

“Firefly?”

“Yes. You were a pinpoint of light in darkness. A beautiful light. I sensed your magic but it was such a small flicker of light that I thought you were just like the others nearby who had a small amount of magic with no way to use it. So I went to find you, traveling further and further away from myself, looking for you.”

Jungkook frowned. “What does that mean?”

“My magic is in my mind,” Jimin explained. “Thoughts and feelings. It's why I can use boosts from the others to make a spell that controls your actions. I sent my mind to find you.”

“So this is all your fault.”

Jimin pouted. “No. I found you. Namjoon insisted on having you. We all told him to leave you alone. But Namjoon, he's a bleeding heart, trying to fight the injustices of his family. He wants to open a school for magic users.”

“Jaebum-Master calls those delusions of grandeur.”

Jimin laughed, throwing his whole body into it against Jungkook’s “Yes, exactly that. It is commendable, but first we have to stop murdering peasants with magic.”

“Seems like an important first step.”

“Namjoon feared for your life when I told him just how much magic you could channel. He started offering Jaebum-shi money almost right away. We did not expect him to refuse, not for a pleasure slave, but I can see why. Aish, look at you. So pretty, so strong. A flash of light, a comforting spark in the darkest of nights. A firefly.”

Jungkook shut his eyes from the touches. He licked his lips. “In the south, there are legends of witches using fireflies to trick travelers into their swamps so that the witch can eat them.”

Jimin laughed again. “Hmm, I don't think I'd mind if you ate me, you beautiful witch.”

Jimin kissed him, pillowy lips on his, a small tongue darting out to taste. His fingers kept up their touches, sending tingles of magic through Jungkook’s skin. That same whispery voice called him beautiful names in his mind. He had heard those same words in his dreams many times, waking up happy and content with thoughts of love and sweetness around him.

“We are about to be interrupted, firefly.”

Jungkook did not care. Neither did Jimin it seemed, deepening their kiss, twisting more of their limbs together.

A warm chuckle came from the door. “You were only meant to wake him.”

“Well, he's awake.”

Jungkook turned to look, his breath catching at the handsome beauty leaning against the door. He wore loose burgundy breeches and a green robe open to reveal dark skin of his chest and stomach. Vines draped over his shoulders, rolling and moving with his breaths.

“My soul mate,” Jimin murmured, “Kim Taehyung.”

“Hi, Jungkook-ie. It's nice to meet you.” His smile was contagious, widening when Jungkook smiled back at him.

“Soul mate?”

“Yes, it means something to someone like me who can see and manipulate them,” Jimin said.

“We met when we were children. Jimin says our souls belong as one but they were rent apart during our last death by some magician or another.” He held up his hand, fingers spread. “Our coven allows us to do this,” and he held his own hand, “but our souls do this.” He tangled his fingers together.

“Oh. That's pretty great.”

“It is. It lets me know where Jimin is all the time. Lets me know when he's upset. When he's happy. When he's horny. He's pretty horny right now.”

“Me, too.”

“I bet you are with all that magic around you.”

Taehyung sauntered to the bed. He climbed on, kneeling near Jungkook's head. “You don't mind, do you, beautiful?”

Jungkook shook his head and opened his mouth. Taehyung loosened the already-loose tie and pressed the front of his pants down, letting his cock free. It was large and curved, wide enough that Jungkook could almost feel it in his throat already. Taehyung curled his hand around the shaft and lowered the head to Jungkook's lips.

Jimin moved his mouth down down down, leaving bites and flares of magic on his skin.

Jungkook ran his tongue around the head and ridge of Taehyung's dick once and then moaned as Taehyung pushed forward. A firm hand pressed the back of his head. Tickles trailed along his neck and chest. Vines, Taehyung's vines.

Jungkook felt their interest in him as they grew longer and more active. They flung the emerald about, they teased his underarms, his ears, his ribs.

“Pretty pet. They like you,” Taehyung whispered.

Jimin left little red bites down his sides. He loosened the soft tie on Jungkook’s pants and pulled down to reveal Jungkook's dick.

“Don't hold back, firefly. You have permission to come whenever you want to.” And Jimin licked over the head of his erection.

That was good because they were driving him mad.

He felt the way their magic blurred and blended, how it spiraled around him, then was inside him, teasing his own magic until he felt warm. Coddled. Protected.

With a sigh, Jungkook relaxed, let Taehyung slide deeper into his throat, let Jimin tease him with his small mouth and fingers that didn't curl completely on his cock. He didn't gasp or tense up as the magic pulled at him, as vines tightened around his wrists, ankles, and neck

Oh. Jungkook liked that, knowing that Taehyung could cut off his breath, use his vines as a leash to show him off, and show everyone how good he was.

“You're so good, beautiful. Sweet and pliant. Such a good boy.”

Jungkook whined as the pleasure peaked, as it twisted to heat instead of warmth, and Jimin bobbed his head faster. When he came in Jimin’s mouth, Taehyung pulled back, pressing his wet tip to Jungkook's lips while Jungkook tried to catch his breath. Very nice of him but quite pointless when Jimin moved up to them and opened his mouth, spilling Jungkook's come on Taehyung’s shaft and into Jungkook's open mouth.

Taehung moaned and thrust back into Jungkook's mouth.

Jimin laughed, sitting up to kiss Taehyung while he sped up. Taehyung's big hand curled over Jimin’s smaller dick and he squeezed in time to his thrusts.

Jungkook was glad he could watch and see them. He felt out of place though, knowing he wasn't needed for the soul mates to pleasure each other. But he also loved the feeling of being used. A tool, a means to a very pleasurable end.

Jimin came first, gasping and turning himself so he came onto Jungkook’s face and Taehyung's dick while Taehyung kept moving.

“I love you,” Taehyung said.

Jimin giggled. “My buttercup.”

Taehyung smiled, then his eyes shut for a moment. He moved, keeping inside Jungkook's mouth until he was straddling Jungkook's face. He cupped the back of Jungkook's head. More than one vine curled around his neck, and Taehyung fucked him, sliding all the way in, all the way out, adding a sharp smack of his hips to thrust down Jungkook’s throat.

Jungkook gagged. Shocking himself but pulling a moan from Taehyung and he did it again.

“Good boy,” he moaned, his voice deep and spinning with green. “I can't do this to anyone else.”

The vines tightened as Taehyung grew closer to his release, teasing him with soft leaves and twisting around his spent dick.

Jimin had his mouth against Taehyung’s ear, but Jungkook could not hear what he was saying.

And then Jungkook couldn't breathe. The vines tightened together, all at once, all over his body, cutting off his breath. It was only a few seconds, and then Taehyung was coming, still in his throat before pulling away and adding to the mess of Jimin and Jungkook's come that covered Jungkook's face.

Jungkook gagged on it, unable to swallow or breathe, and then Taehyung relaxed and Jungkook choked, turning to the side to cough and spit out at least some of it.

Taehyung laughed, fingers trailing over his neck. “Such a perfect mouth.”

Jimin hummed and scooted down to put their faces even. “How Are you feeling, firefly?” He licked up a thick clump of come and then kissed Jungkook deeply.

“Fucked out,” Jungkook gasped.

“Perfect. And we haven't even fucked you yet. That's going to--uh, Taehyung?”

Jimin sat up, fingers under Jungkook's collar, pulling it up. The charms tinkled together.

Taehyung's eyes widened and then he laughed. “Oops. But I'm not mad.”

“What?” Jungkook asked.

Jimin smiled at him. “Let’s get up and take you to the bath and you'll be able to see for yourself. How about a bath? Then breakfast?”

Both sounded good to Jungkook

-----]o~~

Taehyung had fused a vine into his collar. The collar was three strands of braided blond leather, and a green vine with small white flowers had made its home in it, melding with the leather and twisting around the metal charms.

Taehyung offered to remove it.

Jungkook put a hand over it with a pout. It was pretty. He wanted to keep it.

So they let him.

Indulgent. Sweet. Through the entire rest of the morning. They'd bathed him. Hadn't allowed him to touch himself in any way. Taehyung brushed his hair, tying delicate white flowers in it to match the collar. Jimin bought him clothes: a pair of billowy breeches, a loose open tunic that teased glimpses of his chest and stomach, and then a deep orange robe in case he felt a chill.

Jimin’s hands slipped along his skin constantly, up into the loose clothes. The two of them didn't stop touching him. And Jimin fed him fruits and rice, tutting when he tried to do it himself.

“Namjoon ordered us to bring you to him but honestly if he wants to talk to you he can find you.”

“But the prince--”

“Is an idiot. And you haven't met Hoseok yet. Let's go there instead.”

Jimin grinned at Jungkook, a smirk really. “Think I'll put my magic back all over you.” He held up the bit, letting the metal spin, rainbows sparkling in the light.

Jungkook tried his best not to look too eager and failed. He did not like the way his body moved under the magic when given a command, but it was just so warm. Jimin secured the bit in his mouth and pressed his thumb to the peacock feather. The magic spun around him, more eager than usual.

“Pet is so pretty.”

Jungkook preened a little. He couldn't help it!

Jimin took his hand and led him from the room and into the castle. “On a bright sunny day or a dark full moon night, this is the first place you should look for Hoseok.”

They exited the dim hallway into an open terrace garden with vines crawling up the brick wall. The afternoon sun brightened the area. The flowers tittered at Taehyung. Jungkook felt the water flowing in the soil and to the fountain.

Hoseok lay upon a natural bench made of shaped earth and rocks. He was smiling up at the sky. His hand trailed through the grass beneath him, playing with the flowers and vines that tried to reach the light sparking from his fingers.

Taehyung's magic swirled from him to Hoseok, rising vines from the ground to wrap around Hoseok's body and secure him to the bench. Hoseok laughed, twisting and writhing with the vines to sit up. He did not try to escape them.

“Ah, Jungkook-ie! Aish, he's so pretty!”

Jungkook stepped forward and dropped to his knees to bow. Jung Hoseok was the second son of the Jung lord. He wore proper clothes, a suit and waistcoat, a jacket, shiny shoes. One of which slid up Jungkook's thigh and under his loose shirt to touch the cool sole to his stomach.

Hoseok tangled a hand in Jungkook's hair and laughed when Jungkook sighed.

“Wow, your magic is beautiful,” Hoseok said. “It practically shimmers. You feel like you've got a bit of everything. Jin-hyung said you made some water. Show me?”

It was a command, but didn't drag at Jungkook the same way, like he could do it but he didn't have to. That scared him a bit because he couldn't tell if it was because the magic didn't work on his own magic or if it was not actually Hoseok commanding him.

So he brought his hands up and filled them with water again.

“Can you manipulate the water, like you can fire?”

Jungkook shook his head. They must have sensed that he wanted to explain because Hoseok reached over and released the bit.

“Fire hurts, so I try hard to control it. Water doesn't ... it's just always there.”

“Try for me. Shut your eyes and move the water away from your hands.”

It took another second and a deep breath to be able to do so on his own. His magic did not like the peacock feather’s magical commands.

He shut his eyes, feeling the coolness of the water, feeling it against the heat that burned in him. But now that he was thinking about it, it wasn't hard to twist it up around his hands like he did with fire. His hands and arms were still wet though. He grunted in frustration but managed to move the water to the flowers next to the natural bench.

“Good boy, that was really good.” Hoseok cupped his cheeks, pressing kisses to his lips and cheeks.

Taehyung sat on one side of Hoseok and Jimin sat on the other. “You should let him suck your dick, hyung. He's really good at that too.”

“Hm, really? Is that why you both feel so satisfied?”

“Yes.”

“Well, if I must.”

“You must!” they both said.

Hoseok met Jungkook’s eyes, and Jungkook did not protest. He licked his lips and opened his mouth to wait. Hoseok moaned and said, “Hurry.”

Jimin unfastened Hoseok's pants, Taehyung worked on the lower buttons of his waistcoat and shirt. Jimin pulled Hoseok’s cock from under silky undergarments. He stroked him to complete hardness.

“Don't make a mess,” he warned. “Hoseok likes it clean.”

Jungkook leaned over, wrapped his tongue around the soft head once and then slid his mouth down Hoseok's shaft. Hoseok sighed and muffled praise against Taehyung’s lips. Jimin kept his hand in Jungkook's hair, tugging, praising, pushing and pulling Jungkook up and down Hoseok’s cock.

He was nowhere near as large as Taehyung, so Jungkook was able to actually show off some of his skills. Hoseok's moans let him know that his efforts were appreciated.

“Keep your eyes shut, pretty baby,” Jimin crooned.

Jungkook did not understand that, but did as he was told.

A few moments later, Hoseok stiffened in his mouth and a bright, intense light pulsed behind his closed eyes. Then he had a mouthful of Hoseok's release. It was unexpected, so Jungkook gagged, but managed to keep his mouth sealed, keep bobbing and swallowing so he didn't make a mess.

“Good boy,” Jimin murmured and yanked Jungkook's head up for a congratulatory kiss, licking into his mouth to help swallow the release.

Hoseok's sun-warmed hands curled around his neck, tugging. Jimin let him give Jungkook a kiss too, and then Taehyung. The four of them sat and kissed and touched until Hoseok’s breaths evened out.

“Very good, beautiful. Very good.”

The magic pulsed, happy and warm, and Jungkook smiled into the kiss.

“Cute baby,” Hoseok crooned. “It's such a pleasure to meet you.”

Jungkook giggled at the silly joke. And their answering smiles were fond and indulgent.

“Hmm, looks like I lost control a bit more than I thought. Jimin too.” Hoseok curled his fingers around the stone charms, running his thumb over them.

Jungkook felt it in his soul, but he didn't understand. He tilted his head in question at Hoseok.

“One of these diamonds is shimmering with yellow light, and the one closest to the emerald has a cloudy silver sparkle to it.”

Taehyung and Jimin oohed. “We didn't even notice!” they both said.

“That's really cool,” Jimin said, “and it makes sense since you have a bit of control over everything. I'm pretty sure that some of these charms are from a magical ability to win people over.”

Jungkook frowned. He didn't do that. He'd never influence someone like that. But ... well, people did like him. Except for his new master.

“I'm not implying you did it on purpose, firefly,” Jimin said, rubbing at his lips. Jungkook chased his fingers with his tongue. Jimin giggled and gave him a kiss. “No influence here and I still want to drape you in fine cloth and expensive jewelry and worship your skin with my mouth. But maybe you got out of punishment or extra work or earned yourself an extra special treat.”

Jungkook tilted his head and then shrugged. Maybe those were because of him using magic. “I earned my tokens myself.”

“Oh we know, darling,” Hoseok said. “Especially those copper ones. What a mouth.”

“Indeed. And I'd love to partake in it again, but Jin-hyung does have some expensive silks and fabrics to drape you in, so we should go there.”

“I'm going to stay out here until the sun sets,” Hoseok said. “The light is exceptionally warm today.”

After a series of goodbye kisses, Jungkook followed Jimin and Taehyung back into the castle and along a curved hallway that sloped up.

“You'll have permission to wander once Namjoon gets his head out of his ass and realizes who and what you are, both to yourself and to us.” Jimin huffed and took Jungkook's hand. “I do not mind being with you though.”

“Me neither,” Taehyung said and took Jungkook’s other hand.

They found Seokjin in his suite of rooms. He greeted Jungkook with a smile and let him kneel and bow. And then said nothing when he stayed on his knees. He stepped close to ruffle his hair.

“Hyung, look!” Taehyung motioned to the charm.

“Oh, wow. That is interesting. Stones obviously have their own magic, but I've never seen this before.”

Seokjin grinned and pressed a kiss to Jungkook's cheek. “Such a wonderful surprise. Now, you two. Just because you took forever with Jungkook doesn't mean you get out of your duties today. Wrangling. Go.”

Jimin made a face and Taehyung whined, both of them suddenly turning into children when faced with chores. Jungkook bit his lip against a laugh.

“Go. It's your turn this week.”

“But surely Jungkook being here means that we don’t--”

“Nope. Go.”

“But that--”

“Go.”

“Come on,” Taehyung said with a frown. “This just means that he doesn't want to share Jungkook with anyone else.”

“Not true. Yoongi will be here soon.”

“Not fair, let us stay.”

“I will magic you.”

Jimin shivered and grabbed Taehyung's arm. “Tonight?”

“Yes, fine. Not what I meant, but fine. Out out out.”

Their delighted laughter followed them out and echoed down the halls.

Seokjin smiled at Jungkook. “There is a lot of natural magic in the world. Wrangling means keeping it under control and using it strategically instead of just allowing it to wander. Think of it like irrigation for a field. We can tap into natural magic, into that essence around us, if it’s flowing properly.”

Jungkook nodded. That made sense. There were a few times he'd even done that, feeling tangles of magic around the Im Estate and straightening them out.

“Now, we don't expect you to walk around mostly naked, especially since it gets cold. And yes, you have fire, but using your magic to keep yourself warm depletes it quickly. I've gathered some clothes that I can quickly adjust to fit you, so let's find out what you like. Strip, please.”

The magic pulled at him, making him obey, but a little part let him know that he didn't have to. He could break the magic’s hold on him. He didn't and stepped out of the loose pants.

“Hm, we definitely don't mind you wandering around naked.”

Jungkook grinned and did a little spin and curtsy just to hear Seokjin laugh.

Seokjin directed him through a pile of clothes, using magic to adjust them to fit his body. Not all of them were approved. Some scratched at his skin, some were really ugly. Jungkook thought Seokjin had him try those on just for fun.

A swirl of wind blanketed Jungkook for a moment and he turned to find Yoongi leaning against the wall with a smirk on his face.

“Jungkook, you do know that Seokjin can just--” Yoongi snapped his fingers. “--and the clothes would be perfect. He's just doing this to get you naked.”

“Yah!”

Jungkook looked down at himself and then pulled the tunic up over his head.

Seokjin laughed, and Yoongi pushed off from the wall with his own smile.

“I can't blame him,” Yoongi said. “I was going to try to get you naked too. But it's because I want to look at your tattoos. May I?”

Jungkook glanced down at his own arm and then up at Yoongi with a questioning look.

“They can help channel magic,” he explained, “which you may or may not have noticed.”

Jungkook shook his head.

“Lay down and we’ll see.”

Jungkook climbed onto the padded bench that he’d been using as a clothes holder. He had just enough room for his upper body and his knees just reached the floor. It wasn’t super comfortable, but he doubted he’d notice if he was being fucked like that.

The tattoos on his back were a mixture of flowering vines and spirals of water. Here and there, a koi fish swam around them. It wasn’t complete, not yet, but Jungkook had always wanted to add lilies in between the vines. His left arm was covered in vines, but there were only a few tattoos on his right: silly things that Jaebum’s sons had goaded him into requesting like a loaf of bread, a rabbit, a butterfly, and a sword playing a flute.

“You have so many,” Yoongi mused, trailing light fingers down Jungkook’s back. “No doubt gifts for being so very good.”

Jungkook squirmed a little and made a noise of pleasure. It felt so good to have a magician’s hand on him, and his magic. He could feel it flowing along the tattoos.

“I think this is what Jimin meant, when he said that you’d been using some mind magic. Very few slaves have tattoos and you have a lot. You like them, yes, but as a standard reward, they are very expensive. Maybe you influenced that decision with your magic.”

“Maybe he just smiled at Lord Im Jaebum.”

Yoongi chuckled. “Yes, I can see that. I’d do almost anything for that smile.”

“Almost?”

“I don’t think I’d ever let him come when I didn’t want him to.”

Jungkook shivered and the next noise was a low groan.

The magic was ... a lot. Distracting. Warm. It made Jungkook want to be greedy. He lifted his hips, curled up and presented, and he whined around the bit in his mouth.

A firm slap echoed in the room, and the flare of pain on his ass burned with the heat of the wind.

Jungkook did it again, earning another harder spank.

“Hold still.”

And he had to, because that was a command. He felt the urge to ignore it but waited until it faded and then bucked up even more violently.

Yoongi's hand (ugh those hands) gripped the back of his neck and pushed him down. He was spanked again, another command to not move that he ignored as soon as possible. His head wavered, body singing with the sharp touches. Vaguely, he counted ten and then everything stopped and his gasps echoed around them.

“Beautiful,” Yoongi said, “but ...”

And Jungkook's body froze. Not with the magic spell, or not that one, but a different one. His knees lifted off the floor, feet hanging limply. Two sets of hands touched him.

Oh, Seokjin. This was Seokjin’s material magic. And Jungkook was material.

He whined, unable to move. Yoongi's winds held him up and Seokjin held him still.

Hands cupped his ass, spread down and pulled his legs apart. They stayed there.

“You do not have permission to come,” Yoongi said. “But you can't anyway. Seokjin won't let you.”

Jungkook could. He felt the spirals of magic holding him. He felt the way they interacted with his body and skin. He could unravel them if he wanted.

But where was the fun in that? He did not mind being trussed up and denied an orgasm. Nor the swoop of magic through him, cleaning and loosening and getting him ready for Seokjin’s tongue and fingers. Yeah. Jungkook did not mind at all.

“Jin,” Yoongi said, his voice echoing like Jungkook’s moans, there and distant. A blur of noise and then a blur of movement. Jungkook twisted in their hold, his back landing on the softness of the bench. The magic left him all at once, making him shake from the suddenness. The bit was pulled from his mouth and then his head tipped down, off the end of the bench. Seokjin grabbed his knees and pushed his legs up. The command to hold was both easy and hard to obey since the magic had gone.

Jungkook ended up with his legs open, fingers gripping behind his knees and a thick heavy dick down his throat.

“Beautiful,” Seokjin crooned, just before sinking his mouth down on Jungkook’s dick.

Without the magic, he was going to come. Gods, he had better control than this!

And then magic and fingers slithered around his balls, tugging from the inside and out.

Yoongi settled his hand on Jungkook’s throat and hooked his finger under the collar. The charms tinkled and the magic from them sparkled purple. He grunted, pulling out of Jungkook’s mouth. Jungkook licked at the head, tonguing the slit, whining for more.

Words flowed blue and lavender from Yoongi’s mouth, curling into Jungkook’s eyes and around his neck. Seokjin’s magic twisted in heavy reds and deep earthy browns.

Jungkook shut his eyes and the colors stayed, the magic stayed, tendrils and strips that he could touch and twist with fiery orange and deep ocean blues.

A collective moan wove through them.

“Shit,” Yoongi growled and shoved his dick back into Jungkook’s open mouth. Fingers sank into his hole, Seokjin swallowed him down.

Jungkook, just because he could, broke through the magical barrier on his pleasure and came down Seokjin’s throat. His quick smile of satisfaction lasted only long enough for Seokjin to tighten the magical control and pull away from him.

Yoongi did too, ignoring Jungkook’s whine and open mouth.

And then he looked, first up at Yoongi who had his cock in hand, stroking it, letting it leak onto Jungkook’s lips. And then to Seokjin.

Oh, he was mad.

“I never expected that,” Seokjin said, his body still, his arms crossed.

Jungkook frowned and suddenly regretted showing how he could break through their magic. He opened his mouth to explain and then froze under Seokjin’s magic.

“So strong, such a strong magician,” Yoongi crooned, holding his dick down to slide it along Jungkook’s frozen cheek and onto his lips. His jaw moved, his mouth opened, under Seokjin’s control and Yoongi slid back into his mouth.

“A strong, disobedient magician,” Seokjin corrected. “Shame on you, flower. Shame on you.”

Oh. He wasn’t mad that Jungkook could break the magic. He was mad that Jungkook did and disobeyed an order..

Jungkook’s body was not his own again and he was twisted up and turned and wobbled and his vision swam, his skin still sensitive with pleasure, and then he stopped. He blinked down at the floor, took only a moment to realize that he was over Seokjin’s lap, and then was spanked. Hard. Three firm slaps to his frozen body that did not give under the smacks, causing a sharper touch and a high whimper from his throat.

The magic twisted around his dick, pulling it backwards and stretching both his dick and balls away from his body. And then he was coming, an orgasm tearing through him with no warning, covering Seokjin’s leg and the floor in come. He shook at the sensation of it combined with the pain from the continued spanks. He tried to catch his breath.

But another orgasm teased right away, filling his balls, keeping his dick hard, and Jungkook whimpered.

“You want to come, darling, then I guess I’ll just make you,” Seokjin explained.

So Jungkook came again. And then again. Seokjin had a perfect hold on his body, held him right in the moment before release for daringly long seconds. And then forced it from him. He came again and again and again, his body obeying Seokjin’s magic to make more and more come and orgasm over and over.

And then ... then the orgasms stopped and he only just flew there, above it, along it, twisted and held, edged and denied. Unable to come even if he wanted to. Everything burned fiery and hot, and the magic kept him in agony. He screamed himself hoarse, and Seokjin took pity on him and did not stop him from passing out.

-----]o~~

Jungkook’s ass hurt. His throat hurt. His balls hurt.

He deserved it though, for disobeying. He’d apologize properly to Seokjin when he could get up. Not now. Everything ached.

He lifted his head.

He was on a bed, but not the bed he slept in last night. And not Seokjin’s bed.

The room seemed large. The bed seemed large. Draped in wispy curtains of blues with pillows piled under his head. Lots of pillows, in all the peacock colors. They were soft and smelled of smoke and ash under his face.

And hips, he realized. He was on his stomach, his hips lifted and supported by pillows. And he was naked.

Like he was on display.

He groaned at the sheer stupidity of them all. Dropping him in the prince's bed like he could be tempted by Jungkook's body.

His ass sang in pain when he shifted. He could see the darkened, bruised skin when he twisted around. But his muscles ached too. Everything ached.

If he'd been placed and positioned here as is, that meant the dear prince would like to see his bruised and heated skin on display and ready to be taken and forced.

Jungkook could work with that. But not like this. Especially when the prince was nowhere to be found and the residual magical energy in the space was days old. Maybe the others had a plan to lure him here. Jungkook had met the stubborn man once and knew that wouldn't work.

He wanted to curl up in these soft blankets and fluffy pillows, and go back to sleep. He did not want to get involved in the drama of Prince Namjoon's magical revolution. But someone needed to convince the obtuse prince that Jungkook belonged as a slave and nothing good would come of him not acting like he was one.

So he got up and stretched. His sore skin pulled and his muscles ached. His balls ached. Gods. Seokjin could have healed him, like he had with the flower growing from Jungkook's palm. But he didn't. And Jungkook deserved it. He had blatantly disobeyed.

A single magical light brightened when Jungkook got out of the bed. He moved gingerly. A pale green pair of pants hung off a chair. There was a matching tunic but Jungkook didn't want it, or the slippers nearby. He did use the magical chamber pot. That probably had to be his favorite thing of living with copious amounts of obvious magic.

He did take the time to look at his reflection in the polished mirror hanging on the wall. He looked...okay. different somehow. He felt different now that he didn't have to constantly hide his magic. Maybe he was a bit more relaxed. He looked well-rested too despite the sexual overexertion.

His collar was definitely different. Taehyung's vine had merged with the leather, twisted with the intricate braids. Little white flowers bloomed in a poof of petals, but they didn't block the charms.

The stones shimmered with color, the bottom one gray and misty, like clouds, the next a bauble of pure yellow sunshine. Then white with spirals of blue. And deep red, like the heavy clay found in the south or ... blood. Like blood.

Jungkook shivered.

The last diamond, the one closest to the top, was still just a diamond. Waiting for fire?

Jungkook ran his thumb over the stones, feeling the magic swirl around him. He smiled.

He'd been here less than two days. He felt ...

Home. He’d never really relaxed at the Im Estate, too many rules to follow, too many ways he could have used his magic. But here, even if he was still following rules, he felt secure. He didn't want to leave. He wanted to stay here. He wanted to live within the magic. But that didn't mean he wasn't a pleasure slave.

Now to convince Namjoon.

He left the prince's rooms and stood in the hallway, wondering which way to go in this mountain maze.

The light brightened around him from the wall. He smiled and touched one, running his fingers along the smooth surface, feeling the swirl of happiness.

“Can you show me to the prince? Can you take me to where he is?”

Another light brightened to the left. He headed that way, following their guiding light. He trusted them, and a few minutes later found himself outside of Namjoon's library. He tapped a light and whispered, “Thank you.”

And it brightened in joy before almost dimming when Jungkook winced. An apology. Jungkook smiled and tapped it again before entering the room.

The door was open but Namjoon was not inside. Lit candles brightened the room and a half empty glass of wine sat on the desk next to an open book.

He'd be back.

Jungkook would wait for him. He pondered his options. Hands and knees right in front of the door, bruised ass on display? Or bent over the desk? The chaise had a nicely sloped edge to lean over, and his face would be pressed against something soft.

But none of that would help. Useless, just like being put on display in the bedroom.

Jungkook wove through the towers of books, skimming titles in three languages. They were in a sort of order, and he moved to the back of the room, to one of the actual shelves. He smiled seeing books of poetry and short essays. Nothing like the history, magic, and economics books nearer the desk.

A midsized book titled “The Sex of Art” intrigued him. The leather cover was a deep orange with imprinted tendrils of flame. He took it with him back near the desk. He almost sat on the chaise, then changed his mind.

Slaves belonged on the floor.

Luckily, padded cushions were strewn around the floor, and he pulled one nearer the chaise and then sat. The pain from his bruises flared, and he relished in it before taking a few deep breaths to steady himself.

And then he started reading. The book was about how sex was depicted in art, the history of it, the different forms and styles. There was an entire chapter on realistic figure drawing. He itched to get to his art supplies to attempt to replicate one of the sensuous illustrations. Maybe Jimin would pose for him. He had a beautiful shape and such delicacy to his muscles.

A sudden inhale from the door made Jungkook startle, and he looked up.

Prince Namjoon. Though not looking very princely. His long hair hung loose over his shoulders. He wore a wrinkled tunic and too-short trousers. His rainbow-banded robe was undone as well.

Jungkook put the book to the side, shifted up to his knees, and then bowed, head to the floor and hands outstretched and open toward Namjoon.

“Your Highness,” Jungkook murmured.

“Do not bow at me.” There were magical commands in that and Jungkook fought it off. He stayed In position.

Prince Namjoon sighed, a breath of magic swirling around Jungkook, testing, assessing. Jungkook let them and then very gently pushed them away. “I'd very much prefer it if you did not bow to me.”

Jungkook sat up, wincing at the pull of his bruised skin. “I'd very much prefer it if you understood why I must.” He kneeled, hands on fists on his thighs.

“I do understand that, but I don't think you should.”

“I understand that, but I still must.”

Prince Namjoon stared at him for a long moment. “What are you reading?”

Jungkook smiled and held out the book.

“Ah, Taehyung bought that for me as a joke.”

“It's a very good resource for an artist.”

“And are you an artist?”

Jungkook nodded. “Yes, your Highness.” He touched the silver charms on his necklace. “He'd never say it publicly but I am better than Lord Jaebum’s court artisans.”

Namjoon moved by him to the desk. He emptied the wine glass and then lifted a rolled parchment. “For you.”

Jungkook took it and immediately recognized Jaebum-Master’s seal. It had not been broken. Jungkook smiled at Namjoon and then opened the letter.

My dearest Jungkook,

It has been less than a day and I already miss you. I have made a terrible mistake. The lives of so many are not worth you being away from me. I can hear your protest from here. Save it and let me wallow in my self-inflicted heartbreak.

The plot against you was easily uncovered and led to a more substantial plot of treason. Four men will be hung at dawn and one of the concubines will be poisoned. I do not need to tell you which one.

The boys have fought for the right to journey to you with your things. Jackson, Yugyeom and Jinyoung won. Your things are being properly packed and will hopefully be delivered to you before the month's end.

Oh my darling I'm sorry. I could have prevented all of this by talking to you about it. Or making the dam repairs a higher priority last year instead of only attempting a superficial fix. So many regrets sit upon my soul today.

Write to me often, cherub. I will move an army against those magicians if they harm you, this I have vowed and will hold to as I hope to still hold onto your heart.

With my soul,
Im Jaebum

Prince Namjoon handed him a handkerchief to wipe his eyes. Jungkook hadn’t realized he was crying.

“Bad news?”

“No.” Jungkook held out the letter.

Prince Namjoon stared at him before taking it. “I'm not going to read your private correspondence.”

“I'm letting you.”

Prince Namjoon huffed and read the letter. He smiled at some parts and then looked back at Jungkook. “I never thought he'd refuse to sell you to me. But I see now that he had real feelings for you.”

“Perhaps.” Jungkook shrugged. “But not in the way of those feelings like Jimin and Taehyung have for each other. I have similar relationships with his sons.”

“Everyone loves you, huh?”

Jungkook let his smile widen and could not deny it.

Prince Namjoon shook his head, the gesture more fond than anything else. “And this concubine?”

“Sooyeon.” Jungkook’s lip curled in disgust. “She was from a lesser house with delusions of grandeur. She thought pleasure slaves were a waste, and she was angry that I had earned a spot higher in our lord's affections than she. She tried multiple times to turn other concubines against me, but they liked me, enjoyed my music and art. Yes, and sex, but I sang often for them and taught some to read.”

“Who taught you to read?”

“My mother, and then Lord Jaebum's sons continued when they knew I could already read a little.”

“Do you know why the Jeon Estate is the lowest of the noble houses?”

“Of course. An attempted coup against the Parks almost a hundred years ago. They were not destroyed only because Lord Jeon was killed and his son signed a peace treaty. I do my best to uphold those values and try to continue to be humble and contrite. I am a son of a concubine but still one bred with nobility. I try my best to act that way.”

“By bending over and offering your hole to whoever wants to take it?”

“Tell me that the Jeons didn't do the same for the Parks. Metaphorically, of course.”

And Prince Namjoon smiled. Not a large one, but Jungkook counted it as a win.

Jungkook stretched, moaning at the pull on his bruised skin.

“I understand that you've done the same for my coven mates. Not metaphorically.”

Jungkook laughed. “Mostly metaphorically.” At Prince Namjoon's raised eyebrow, Jungkook added, “None of them have fucked me, but all of them have orgasmed. I think you being first to dick into me is part of their plan to seduce you.”

“You picked up on that?”

“It wasn't subtle.”

“No, it wasn't. What do you think about this plan?”

“That you aren't stupid. That you're stubborn. That you're caring and thoughtful and deliberate. You won't fuck me while you still think I shouldn't be a slave.”

“You shouldn't be a slave.”

“Maybe, maybe not, but I am, and revealing not only my magic but the strength of it will cause the deaths of innocent people. The law still says that only royalty and nobility can have magic. I don't want to be the cause of another fear-based massacre like the one that happened before the Jeons tried to overtake the Parks with no magicians and the one that happened throughout all the noble families afterward.”

Prince Namjoon sat on the chaise. “That doesn't mean we should use you.”

“Even if I want to be used? I quite like sex.”

“And the bruises that Seokjin left all over you and didn't have the decency to heal? Do you like those?”

“Picked up on that did you?” Jungkook said cheekily.

Prince Namjoon huffed.

Jungkook smiled and said, “The bruises are my favorite part.” He pushed up onto the chaise, sitting next to Prince Namjoon, and then turned his upper body, shifting carefully around Prince Namjoon so his legs were spread and Prince Namjoon sat between them.

Jungkook pressed his face to the soft fabric and pushed at his loose trousers with one hand. He tried not to moan at the brush of his own hand on sensitive, bruised skin.

And then Prince Namjoon helped him, pushed them down and then off when Jungkook lifted his legs.

“By the gods, he was vicious with you.”

“I disobeyed.”

“What?”

“I came without permission.”

“There is no way that Seokjin would do this much for something so trivial.”

“It wasn’t trivial. Let me show you. Cover me with magic.”

It took a moment before Prince Namjoon's warmth fell over him, encircling him. And then tightened. Jungkook could not even moan in appreciation. Frozen, forced. But gods, it wasn't mean, there was no anger buried under the dominance. The magic was just there, holding him.

Jungkook took a few seconds to enjoy it and then destroyed it, unraveling the magic like unbraiding hair.

Prince Namjoon’s breath caught.

“I did that. And then I came without permission.”

“Still, you don't deserve--”

“I deserve whatever I want.” Jungkook looked behind him and grinned. “I didn't understand how strong my magic was until today, until being here and being surrounded by magic. I can feel it and I can sense it and I can manipulate it in ways that I don’t understand. I didn't realize how much I could do with magic. But now I do. And you can teach me and help me learn to control it and get stronger. I could leave if I wanted to. I woke up alone and had Hoseok-shi’s lights lead me here. I could have just as easily had them lead me outside, to escape, run off. But is that freedom? I'd constantly be on the run, constantly waiting for you to catch up with me. If it got out that I was a runaway slave, my mother and siblings would suffer. So yes, I can do that. Or, I can lay here on this chaise and beg to have your dick inside me. That sounds way more enjoyable than having to chase after me, doesn’t it, your Highness?”

Prince Namjoon narrowed his eyes. “At least stop calling me that and stop bowing at me.”

“Absolutely not.” Jungkook turned back, settling his cheek on the back of his folded hands. “Please fuck me now, your highness.”

Tingles of magic danced up his skin, twisting like water, to touch every part of him. Exploring. Curious. It followed his tattoos and curled around his neck to inspect the collar. Hands followed. A warm magical touch on his skin. Jungkook shivered, whining at the flares of pain from his bruises.

“Don’t move, beautiful.”

But that was not accompanied by magic. Just a command.

Jungkook smiled and held still. He heard the sound of cloth moving, Prince Namjoon’s weight shifting behind him. He did moan, high and tight, when Prince Namjoon gripped his sore ass and spread him open. His balls and dick ached from overuse, but he still tried to hump the chaise. Prince Namjoon added a quick slap to the sore skin and said, “Be still.”

Jungkook turned his head to press his mouth to the fabric. He tried to curl his hips up, and then the magic went around him, but not from where he was expecting, not from Namjoon.

The vines on his collar grew, slithered down his arms and around his wrists, yanking them down toward the floor. They tied him there, wrapping around the feet of the chaise. They slithered and curled around his back, wrapping him tight to the chaise, and then down to his ankles and around the feet of the chair. Binding him completely, head to feet, to the chaise.

“There we are,” Prince Namjoon said. “Be still.”

Jungkook probably could get rid of the vines, both with fire and just by breaking the magic, but that wasn’t the point. He didn’t want Prince Namjoon to think he was so ill behaved and uncontrollable. He opened his mouth to beg and was gagged almost immediately by another vine, tight over his mouth, digging into his cheeks. It twisted around his throat too. He whined again, panting and struggling against the bindings.

“Sh,” Prince Namjoon said, “I’ve got you.”

He placed a warm hand right on Jungkook’s back, pressed down until Jungkook settled, until he could breathe (mostly) and let that warm, dominating magic drip over and around him. Jungkook moaned and felt his entire body relax under it.

“Good boy,” and Jungkook sighed. Yes. He was a good boy. Sudden magical powers would not change that.

He pressed a finger against Jungkook’s hole and kept it there. Magic swirled and tingled up and through him, much like what Seokjin did and it left him gasping around the gag.

“Hm, I wonder ...”

Jungkook did not have long to wonder about that wonder because a vine slithered down his back and started to press into his body.

“That’s good. Stay there.”

And Prince Namjoon left. He got up and left, leaving Jungkook bound inside and out to the chaise lounge. Jungkook protested loudly.

Prince Namjoon ignored him.

Jungkook struggled and the vines tightened around him. The one inside him moved deeper. It didn't hurt, it was just weird, especially when it started moving in and out of him because Jungkook was paying attention to it. It was happy to be noticed. Like the lights. It was being useful to him, and Jungkook could feel its joy in that.

Jungkook wondered if Taehyung could feel these vines through his magic. He wanted to ask how Prince Namjoon could manipulate them, but another joined the first, and then another. Spent and wrung out or not, Jungkook felt his pleasure building in painful bursts.

He'd meant to glare at Prince Namjoon for leaving him there, but couldn't open his eyes or even see beyond the blur. A slow high sound filled the room and Jungkook broke it with a deep gasp when he realized it was him.

He'd lost count of the vines inside him too. Vines had wrapped around both of his ass cheeks, squeezed and spread him open further. Another had wrapped up his balls and dick, and there was something prodding at his slit, a small tendril dipping shallowly in and out of him. The ones holding him down tightened more, digging into his skin, not breaking it but definitely leaving some marks.

Gods, he was glad they didn't have thorns.

When Prince Namjoon kneeled between his legs. Jungkook whined in relief.

But Prince Namjoon only laughed at him.

“You're noisy.”

He tugged on the vines inside of him, and they reluctantly slipped from him, leaving him open and raw. Prince Namjoon pressed three fingers into him and another spell slithered through Jungkook. Everything turned wet and slick. Prince Namjoon fucked him with three and then four fingers, pressing up and deep.

Jungkook sighed and relaxed, but then tensed up when Prince Namjoon's hand left. Something else pressed into him. Something heavy and warm and--

“Let's see how you do with this.”

Prince Namjoon tapped on it and it started vibrating.

Jungkook screamed at the sensitivity and then tried not to cry when Prince Namjoon got up and left him again. The vines returned, wrapping up over his cleft to keep whatever was inside him there. It vibrated madly. And twisted. There were edges to it that turned and pressed on his insides. It moved in and out of him as much as it could, twisting and pulling at his hole.

Through blurry vision, Jungkook watched as Prince Namjoon sat at his desk and picked up a book. The glass of wine refilled itself. Prince Namjoon sipped at it as he slowly turned the pages of his book.

Jungkook tried to get his attention, tried to move. But the vines tightened. The vibrations increased. His head swam with pleasure even if his dick wasn't hard. The vine at his tip slipped farther into his dick, pulling a strange sensation in a new place.

Junckook cried frustrated tears.

you can stop it

That was not his voice in his head. Jimin? Maybe.

Yes, he could. But he was a good boy and Master put him here and even if he could, he wouldn't. He was a good boy!

you are such a good boy, firefly

So he stayed and whined and swam in pleasure-pain with no relief and no touches and no attention. It blurred into a loop until something broke it.

Prince Namjoon, behind and above him. Touching him. But the touches hurt on his sensitive skin.

The vines weren't gone, but no longer tight, and Prince Namjoon played with the thing inside him, pulling it in and out. He was saying something, but Jungkook only heard the soft pleased tone in the voice, not words. The thing left his body, left him gaping and empty. It thunked to the floor and rolled.

And then something bigger pushed into him. Prince Namjoon's cock. Finally! All the way, without stopping, until his hips were against Jungkook's bruised ass.

A firm hand pressed into the middle of his back, and then Prince Namjoon moved, swirled and glided in and out of him, steady, rhythmic, firm. More slick oil filled him and the wet noise of Namjoon’s movements were louder than Jungkook’s appreciative noises.

The tension in Jungkook’s body left. He sagged, pliant and weak, still gasping deeply and biting down on the vine in his mouth.

“There we go. Good boy. Just a hole for me to use. Isn't that what you wanted?”

Jungkook mentally swore at him, too tired to do more than grunt.

That voice giggled in his head. Definitely Jimin.

The vines loosened more, returning to the collar, leaving him bound only by exhaustion. Except the one inside his dick. That one happily spun and twisted in the slit, sliding in deeper.

Prince Namjoon’s thrusts sped up. He gripped Jungkook's hips, pulling them up for a deeper angle. He held Jungkook steady, his breath labored but in control. Jungkook was a mess. And those high whines were back, fucked out of his with every thrust. One of Prince Namjoon’s hands pressed his head into the chaise and the other teased at his balls and dick. It hurt so good and Jungkook cried out, tensing up and clamping down onto Prince Namjoon’s thick cock.

“Pretty boy. Good boy. Just a thing for me to take and use, right, darling?” Prince Namjoon’s thrusts sped up, his breath still controlled but faster. He pressed both hands to Jungkook’s hips, pinning him down to the chaise and then dicked into him faster, growling and cursing as he neared his release. The heat of Prince Namjoon's release filled him, burning him warm and comforting. The skin under his hands burned like the heat of the sun in the middle of a hot summer afternoon. The magic spiraled through him. Jungkook’s spent cock dribbled come around the vine, his body shaking though a weak orgasm.

Prince Namjoon stayed inside him, laid over him, mouth against Jungkook’s ear, whispering pleasure-filled praise right into his soul.

Jungkook tried to calm down and couldn't. The fabric under his face was wet with tears and spit. He gasped when Prince Namjoon left him, slid his dick out and Jungkook tried to tighten up, keep him there.

“Sh, just stay. Hang on. It's Seokjin’s turn.”

Seokjin?

Jungkook lifted his head, blinked the blurry out of his eyes and saw the rest of the coven around the room, lounging in states of undress, pleasuring themselves and each other.

Oh.

Oh.

Jungkook's next whine sounded relieved and eager even to his own ears. They laughed at him but Seokjin moved behind him.

“You bruise so nicely,” he murmured before sliding into him, through Prince Namjoon's release with a wet noise.

Jungkook moaned, legs spreading a bit more.

Seokjin thrust slowly. “Wanted to do this earlier. Fuck.”

“You could have,” Prince Namjoon said. “Having him first was nice but not what finally seduced me.”

“And what was that? The bruises?” Yoongi asked.

“No!” Prince Namjoon cleared his throat. “Well, not completely. Just ... he wants it.”

“We told you that,” Hoseok murmured.

“And he's smart. Smarter than you assholes.”

Jungkook smiled and twisted in pleasure.

“A good boy when he wants to be,” Seokjin said, giving his bruised ass another slap that had Jungkook yelping. and tightening around Seokjin who moaned and sped up his thrusts.

“Such a good boy,” he said, moaning as he came and added to the mess inside Jungkook.

“Lift up, pet,” Prince Namjoon said and helped Jungkook lift his head and then lay it in Prince Namjoon's lap. His lower half curled more, giving Yoongi a better angle to slide into Jungkook's hole. A breath of wind fluttered over his back and it warmed his core and soul.

“Okay?” Prince Namjoon murmured.

“So yes like ... good.”

Jungkook did not remember the last time he was the center of an orgy. Mostly he performed solo for Jaebum-Master or one of his sons. Only Jackson and Yugyeom liked to share him, fuck him from the front and the back. A few of the concubines liked to have him in a group though, but he was the only one doing any fucking then.

The wind buffeted Jungkook as Yoongi fucked him, like being up on a roof at dawn as the morning fog rolled back out to the ocean.

Yoongi fondled his sore dick and Jungkook whined, trying to pull away from the touch. Yoongi laughed. “Should Seokjin make you hard again darling? Force you to come and--”

“No, no, no. No. Please, no. No.”

“Ignore him,” Prince Namjoon said, hands on Jungkook's hair. “That was part of your punishment and now you're being so good, letting us use you. Just relax.”

Yoongi grunted and sped up. “It’s hot to watch.”

“So is this,” Prince Namjoon said. “But he wants to be a hole so that's what we're doing.”

“Hole, Imma hole,” Jungkook muttered.

Prince Namjoon slipped his fingers into Jungkook's mouth to give him something to suck on.

“A pretty hole,” Yoongi said and slid a finger into Jungkook with his dick.

“We'd appreciate it if you'd hurry up so the rest of us can use that hole,” Jimin said.

Yoongi slowed down, dragging in and out of Jungkook.

Jungkook moaned, felt his dick twitch at the smirk Yoongi shot at Jimin. Gods, he was gorgeous. They were all so gorgeous.

He had not yet let himself miss Jaebum-Master’s body, but at least he hadn't been sold to a bunch of old ugly magistrates.

Prince Namjoon curled his hand over Jungkook's neck, gripping the back firmly but still letting Jungkook move to suck on his fingers. The noises, his noises, turned soft and low.

Yoongi and Jimin bickered above him, pausing only for Yoongi to come, for him to slip wind around them all, and sink into Jungkook to feel the magic all through his soul.

He wouldn't say this out loud and maybe it was because he met the wind witch first, but he liked the way Yoongi's magic felt the most.

Jimin wasn't even next, complaining loudly as Hoseok moved over him that Yoongi had cheated and distracted him.

Hoseok had laughed and said, “I'm older than you, brat.”

They really did act like the Im brothers.

Jungkook smiled. He kept his eyes shut, remembering Hoseok's burst of light as he came. Hoseok laid his body over Jungkook's, not sliding out but swirling his hips, staying inside him. He mouthed at the back of his neck and shoulder, biting down with moans and sharp thrusts.

Jungkook curled his hips up to match his rhythm.

Hoseok's hand curled to the front of his neck, squeezing, teasing pressure mixed with the magicks stored in the stones.

Maybe Jungkook could come now. But no, when he thought about his dick, everything hurt. Better to not.

The flash of light when Hoseok came wasn't a bright as before but there was more heat, a singe of sound on the collar and Taehyung grumbling about burnt vines.

But nothing burned his skin.

Hoseok pulled away from him and Jungkook could feel how gaping open he was, feel how wet and dirty and full.

Jimin pressed fingers into him, a firm press of them all. His smaller hand curled into a fist and slowly sank into him. Jungkook gasped at the stretch, at the feel of being so very full, so very deeply, deeper than anything he’d felt before. Jimin moved in and out of him only a few times, spinning his hand a few times before pulling out. “Taehyung and I are going to fuck you together one day, but not now. You're too sore and used. Maybe tomorrow we'll force you on both of our dicks.”

Jungkook's noise of agreement sounded desperate to his own ears and they chuckled at him. He whined when Jimin pushed into him, all the way, settling against his sore skin. He gripped Jungkook's waist and ground forward, swiveling and twisting.

I’m going to swim around in your mind one day and ... fuck, your body feels good, firefly.

The voice was soft and light, sweet with a layering growl of promise. Definitely the same one that's been flitting about his mind all day.

Seokjin can torture your body as he wants but I'm the one who can make you like it and beg for more.

Jungkook tensed up, waiting for the magic to take over.

Jimin laughed in his head. Not now, firefly. My magic is too unstable, because of you, to do any of that safely.

Jungkook's smug satisfaction had Jimin laughing even louder. He gripped Jungkook's hips and fucked into him, faster than the others, teasing toward a release.

Jungkook couldn't keep up, so he relaxed, sagged down, hips still curled up, and let himself be fucked. Jiminn pressed a hand between his shoulder blades, angling down, to ride out his release with long slow strokes.

“I'd complain about being last,” Taehyung said, “but I did technically have him first yesterday.”

“Just his throat.”

“Just as good as his hole,” Taehyung said. “Turn over, beautiful. I wanna kiss you while we fuck.”

Jungkook moaned in disagreement and Taehyung put his hands on Jungkook's waist and vines erupted over him and turned him around. They stayed around his waist and then spread down his legs, bending and twisting until Jungkook's ankles were bound to his thighs and his legs spread open. The vines formed flowery spirals on his chest. The one in his dick suddenly swelled, drawing a twisted guttural noise from Jungkook. A white flower bloomed from it, sitting right on the leaking slit.

Taehyung gripped the vines around his thighs for leverage to fuck into him.

Jungkook moaned, almost choking when Prince Namjoon used his large hand to tilt his head back by the chin.

“Good?”

Jungkook nodded, choking as a vine tightened around his neck. The vines trailed over his skin, under shoulders and back, forcing him up. Taehyung leaned down, hands on Jungkook's hip bones.

“Perfect for a kiss.”

Taehyung didn't stop kissing him, biting his lips, and licking into his mouth. His thrusts stayed steady and he barely reacted when he came. But the vines did, tightening too tight on his skin and the one in his slit expanded even more.

Jungkook's body shook through another orgasm, dry and sharp. It yanked a pained cry from him even as pleasure coursed through him. A small amount of come seeped around the thick vine in his slit.

The vines released him slowly, slithering down and away from him, leaving him spent and empty and bare. Jungkook felt like sludge. His body shook, but he had no control over it. There were tears on his face.

The few seconds of no one touching him hurt the most. Rejected, used and alone.

And then there were hands on him. And words, whispered into his skin and onto his soul. Everything went warm and comforting and his breathing steadied, his tears stopped. Hands and skin and bodies and magic.

“I think we should have paid Lord Jaebum more money for you,” Prince Namjoon said.

Laughter startled from Jungkook's mouth, broken off by a ragged breath.

“How about a bath, firefly?” Jimin whispered.

“No .. no empty. Don't wanna. No go yet.”

“You don't have to be empty to take a bath,” Prince Namjoon said. “Remember the toy?” He held up the thing he'd used earlier. It was glass, shaped like a thick dick with a wide, flared head. Ridges covered the thick length of it. The bottom was flared, mostly to keep it inside Jungkook.

Jungkook licked his lips and nodded. “Please, please.”

He curled his hips up, holding behind his knees.

Hoseok took the glass toy and slid it up through the mess leaking from Jungkook. He pressed the bulbous head in and the out again, making Jungkook moan.

“Gotta keep you full,” Hoseok said, and did it again, dragging the toy through the mess of come and then inside him.

“Enough,” Seokjin said. “Taehyung.”

Jungkook shut his eyes when the toy pushed into him. A second later, vines wrapped around him and held it in place, tightened on his thighs.

Magic enveloped him, and Seokjin scooped him up into his arms. He burrowed against warm skin as he was carried through the halls. So much magic. Around him, on him, inside him. Too much. Jungkook found it a bit hard to breathe. But he couldn't break through it all. His own magic was too weak.

“Hang on, darling. We're almost there,” Seokjin said.

Jungkook relaxed as best he could in Seokjin’s arms. Their conversation was muffled in his ears. He felt the stream from their bathhouse first, warmth spreading through him, and then moaned as he was submerged in the water. He stayed pressed against Seokjin’s chest while the others washed and massaged his skin.

The toy inside him rotated slowly. Their conversation blurred above him. He felt empty and light, floating, but so held so tightly.

No, firefly, no floating. Stay there. Think about Seokjin’s arms around you, his chest, keeping you in the tub.

Jungkook frowned, unsure what the voice was saying. Of course he was in the tub. The water was warm on his skin.

The toy rotated inside him. Faster. Like that. That felt good. It rotated and pushed deeper, moving as much as the plants would allow. He started humping Seokjin’s thigh.

The toy sped up and then suddenly stopped, and Jungkook whined.

A voice told him no. That he had to leave it there, unmoving, or they would take it out. But it wasn't his fault! He couldn't move it! They were doing that with their magic.

But he was a good boy and he focused on Seokjin’s chest below his face. It was hard when he wanted it to move, but he had their hands on him and their magic, and that was enough for now.

-----]o~~

Jungkook woke up in Prince Namjoon's bed again. He was not sure of the time, not sure of much. His body ached. But he felt good. Relaxed. Well-fucked. Content.

A warm hand traced up and down his back, fingers trailing over the tattoos, leaving swirls of hot fire magic behind.

“Are you awake, darling? You've been in and out now for hours.”

“Want you in and out of me for hours.”

Prince Namjoon chuckled, leaned over him to kiss at the junction of neck and shoulder. “Do you need anything?”

“No. Just ... I'm tired.”

“Seokjin was going to heal you, but Jimin insisted that he not. That you'd enjoy waking up sore.”

“Hm, Jimin’s right.”

“Evidence indicates that you could do it yourself. You really do have a bit of all the magicks even if the water is the strongest in you.”

“Water?”

“Yes. It's historically Jeon magic. You have the best control of fire, but it's not the strongest. Taehyung's vines obey you, Hoseok's lights adore you, and yesterday in the bath, Jimin said that you tried to leave your body. We know you can throw off our magical control, so yes, it makes sense that you'd be able to heal yourself.”

Jungkook shut his eyes and said, “When I was ten, I broke my leg. I fell off a wall. I remember my mother making me stay in bed for weeks, even though I was okay. She was terrified when she came into our room one day and saw me walking around.”

“I want to fix that fear. No one should be afraid of something they can't help, something they were born with.”

Jungkook nodded. “Yes, I agree, but you have to do it gradually.”

“I don't have to be happy about that.”

“No, you don't. But you'll teach me, right? How to use it? How to control it?”

“Of course, darling.”

“It'll be practice for your magic school.”

Prince Namjoon grumbled into his shoulder, cursing the others for telling him.

Jungkook laughed. “It's a noble idea, your highness. Idealistic and impossible, but noble. Now hush. I want a nap.”

“You've been sleeping for--”

“Hush,” Jungkook said, tossing some of that magical control at Prince Namjoon, making his mouth snap shut.

Prince Namjoon was too startled to block it.

Jungkook curled up with one of the fluffy blue pillows, a smug smile on his face.

A hot hand slid up the back of his thigh. “Oh, darling, you are going to pay for that.”

Jungkook sure hoped so.