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this is sooo good! i really love this concept and im kinda hoping that a way to break the spell is to fall in love with yoongi 😂

Maybe Ever After Ch. 3

Word Count: 8.9k Warnings: Profanity, light mention of abuse and death. Genre: Fluff, light angst, crack, and eventual smut. Royalty!Au. Magic!Au, Fairytale!Au Pairing: Seokjin x female reader (additional pairing to be featured soon…. )

A/N: Here is chapter three! Please let me know what you think. I would love to hear your thoughts and encouragement on this fic xx

Masterlist | Moodboard | Prologue | Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three

Summary: Would you be you if you did not reread the same book for what is probably the hundredth time? No, probably not. When life becomes mundane and full of unhappy endings, you always turn to the large book with golden edged pages that your grandmother gave you years ago. You know this book probably more so than the back of your hand; from the red stain of spaghetti (that your mom said you would get on the book if you read at dinner time) to the exact moment when the prince will deliver his clever words. After reading this fairytale so many times, you could probably see his beautiful strands of hair in your sleep. However, if you know this book like the back of your hand, why is it so difficult for you to remember if his hair has always been so pink? You could have sworn Prince Seokjin has always been depicted with blonde…

Your POV

The sun was slightly off centered above your head, but your lack of direction didn’t allow for you to discern whether it was morning or afternoon.

But it was still morning before I got here, you tried to reason with yourself.

The wind was blowing at a decent pace through your hair, through the leaves of the willow tree in the distance too. For a moment, the situation at hand subsided as you stood in awe at the tree that looked even more beautiful in person.

Page fifty-two, was it? The question was meant to be light-hearted and reduce the gravity of the situation. It worked, but only shortly, because your momentary lapse in a panic-free bubble was violently burst as two deep, albeit surprising, voices brought you out of your thoughts.

“Excuse me, m’lady?” One voice came from your left.

“Are you alright miss? What are you doing out here, dressed like that?” And the other came from your right.

The tone of his voice was judgmental, to say the least, and looking down at yourself, you understood why. Your shirt was form fitting and pulled taut against your skin, and your legs were covered, or barely so, by shorts; the majority of your skin was on display from your bare feet to the tops of your shoulders that were scarcely covered by the thin material. You turned, finally ready, if not much at all, to face the deep shit you just found yourself in.

“I’m-” but only one word was able to escape your mouth as the two men’s abrupt gasps of surprise cut you off.

Had you not been concerned with formulating a response, you would have gasped as well; the sight in front of you was one to behold as. The kind and quirky baker, Kim Taehyung, stood there with dark hair covering his forehead, and his mouth forming a tight line. His tanned skin glowed under the sun, and he looked more like a god rather than a baker.

Standing near him, and just as apprehensive, was Jung Hoseok, an eccentric farmer who was praised for his contributions to the kingdom. His skin was, although flawless, dark and dirty; clumps of dirt were seen on his hands, and his clothes were in worse shape than the baker’s. The look on Hoseok’s face faired far kinder than Kim Taehyung’s, for his mouth was held fast in the shape of an ‘o.’ Both men were equally beautiful and breathtaking as light rained down on them, but they too seemed at a loss for words.

“Princess Ariadne?”

Keep reading

His forehead is so smooth. 🤣

this is out of control