The Lonely Prince (BTS Jungkook)

You're My Prisoner

Oh shit. The potion definitely didn't work.

"What?" Was all I could manage to squeak out. His eyes captured and held me in place. His hand on the small of my back sent shivers and chills up my spine, and for once, I had to wonder if it was me who got love dusted. But I had bigger fish to fry than to gawk the hottie in front of me.

First, he knows I'm a witch. Secondly, he was looking for me. My faced flushed at the sudden thought of someone wanting to see me. Have I dusted so many men in the village that they've started making rumors about me? What was it he called me? The Love Witch of the Woodlands? I mean, he wasn't wrong, but it didn't change the fact that I was doing something illegal. What if he told the prince? I could be thrown in a dungeon somewhere, or even worse, killed.

"How many men of mine did you harass this week?" He suddenly states, knocking me out of my thoughts. "You know one can't feel his face. He got hit with the orange smoke stuff."

My thoughts being all over the place made the magic on my broom fade, and I hear it hit the ground with a thump behind us. The man finally decides its time to let me down, and my feet hit the ground, the small of my back already missing his warm touch. Jesus, (Y/N), pull it together.

Finally getting my mind back in order I straighten up in front of him. Only now noting how much taller he is than me.

"What do you mean your men? And why are you looking for me, hunter?" I narrow my eyes at him, begging internally that his answer doesn't consist of telling the prince of my crimes.

"Hunter?" He places a hand on his hip, a slight smile dancing across his face. "Do you really not know who I am?"

A million thoughts buzzed in my head at once. Had the village gotten a new resident that I didn't know about? Surely not.

"My name is Jungkook." He slightly raises his chin, an arrogant smirk replacing the lighthearted smile his face held before. "Prince Jungkook."

My eyes bulge like saucers, and I immediately begin mentally making my will. With my brain fog increasing by the second, the only thing I can do is stare up at the handsome prince.

"No wonder you're arrogant." Accidentally slips out of my mouth, and my hand goes at lighting speed to stop any more word vomit from coming out. "I mean- your highness- did you come to arrest me?"

It was the one question weighing heavily on my shoulders, and I'm relieved when I see him chuckle. Looking down at his boots for a second, he raises his eyes to meet mine. I can't explain the tension that leaves my body when I see him shake his head.

"Even though witchcraft has been outlawed since before I took the crown," He starts, one hand on his hip and the other relaxed at his side. "I'm not here to arrest you."

I take a sigh of relief that's short lived when he finishes his sentence.

"Unless I have to."

I give a nervous laugh. "Why would you have to? I mean, I'm not hurting anyone." I shakily rub my hands together. "I-Is there a reason why you wanted to find me?"

"There is." He wastes no time getting to the point. "I need a favor. Is there somewhere that we could talk in private?"

This morning I was picking blueberries, and the next the Prince himself is sitting at my dining room table. I take a seat across from him, mentally cringing at the sight of my home. I've never had a problem with it before, but with royalty now sitting with me, the weeds and bones hanging from the ceiling seem like an odd choice of décor.

Shelves are lined with various baskets, each containing either ingredients for potions or my dinner. Some had more fruity smells, while others were filled with decaying objects. I hug myself close, keeping my gaze anywhere but the man across from me.

Through my side vision I can see him look around, analyzing. The small fireplace to the side of the kitchen was crackling, whatever I was brewing bubbling in the cauldron above it. Homemade and village bought rugs scattered on the floor, making it a mismatched pattern of color. The candles and open windows helped keep the place lit up, the evening sunlight shining into the room. It danced on the open books in the windowsill, each page marked with something I thought was important.

"This is your home?" He suddenly decides to break the silence. "You have many books."

I turn to match his gaze, noticing it on the bookshelf in the living room. It was piled high with books. Some new, some tabbed, some with the pages being ripped out of frustration.

"Yeah." I give him a slight nod, not quite understanding how to describe the mood around us. Awkward was a good place to start, though.

"Anyways. I didn't come here to admire a book collection." He straightens in his seat, shrugging his head to get the ends of his hair out of his eyes. "I came because I need a favor, Love Witch."

I raise my eyebrow, intrigued. The prince needs a favor? From me?

"I need a love potion-"

I unconsciously scoff. "Don't we all?" I mutter, resting my chin on my hand.

His eyebrow raises this time instead. "Don't you have one?"

This time I can't stop my dry laugh. "If I had one, your highness, I wouldn't be sitting here single."

"But you have all of these books-" He stops himself, walking to the living room and motioning with his arms. "You're telling me that you don't have a single potion here?"

"Nope." I grin up at him. "Been trying forever to make one. Could never get the ingredients right. You and your four other men were my last attempts. It obviously didn't work."

He looks around in disbelief. "You're probably the only witch in the kingdom that doesn't have a clue what she's doing."

"Excuse you?" I stand, walking to glare at him. "A love potion is the most dangerous and the hardest potion to make. They just don't exactly give out books relating to them. Besides, I'm not the prince needing one. Lemme guess, couldn't catch the heart of a fair maiden?"

His brows furrow together as he looks down at me with annoyance. I bat my eyelashes up at him innocently, and he takes a threatening step forward. His chest coming a mere few inches from my own.

"Watch it, Witch. Or I'll throw you in the palace dungeon." His voice was laced with venom, it going a few octaves deeper than when we talked previously.

I don't know what fire the close proximity set off within me, but I wanted to get on this guy's nerves. I wanted to push his buttons.

"No, you won't. If you don't have me, you don't have a potion." I give him a cheeky grin. "And my name isn't Witch. Its (Y/N)."

"Well, (Y/N)," He lowers his head to catch my gaze in his. "Better get to thinking about potion ingredients, or you won't make it to the dungeon."

I glance down to see him begin to unsheathe his sword, and I back up. Maybe I shouldn't poke this guy's buttons. He seems touchy.

"Okay okay." My hands go up in defense. "You have a castle library, right? Have you ever searched there for any books on potions or anything?"

The question makes him straighten his back once again, a hand going to rub the scruff on his chin in a thinking manner.

"Maybe? It sounds like a good place to start." I suddenly feel warmth on my fingertips as he grabs my hand and begins to pull me out of my cottage. "Come on."

"W-What?" I ask, struggling to pull myself from his grasp. "I'm not going with you."

"Oh yes you are." He states in a matter-of-fact tone, pulling me along. "Whether you like it or not, you're now my temporary prisoner."

"Huh?!"

***