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lettersfromaphrodite · 1 year ago

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― pairing : Han Jisung x fem! reader ― content warnings : smut, fluff, royals au, vampire au, Han is a vampire, reader is a vampire Queen, mentions of blood, unprotected sex, medieval settings as always // I used some of the Black Desert Online cities’ names because I don’t have enough creativity to come up with brand new names. ― word count : 5.863 ― notes : if you don’t know, a Queen can rule while being unmarried and if she ever decides to marry, her husband won’t automatically become King, but simply be referred as the Consort Prince. ― notes : ⚠️ This fic will appear on BOTH Royals and Vampire Series! ⚠️

― notes : this fic looks familiar?it is! I’m reposting ALL my works on this brand new blog and therefore please, bear with me! as always, askbox is open and feedbacks are always welcome 💌

🧛‍♂️ VAMPIRE! STRAY KIDS SERIES

Chris // Changbin // Jisung // Hyunjin // Seungmin // Minho // Felix

👑 ROYALS! STRAY KIDS SERIES

Chris // Changbin // Jisung // Hyunjin // Seungmin // Minho // Felix part one | part two // Jeongin

The amount of wealth you slowly accumulated during the centuries allowed you to realize one of your biggest dreams: an entire room dedicated to a giant pool filled with thermal water, inside one of the private underground rooms in your Castle. You still remember Felix’s face as you announced him about the prospect of setting up a room just for a Victorian-style spa, and of course, the four golden waterfalls at the respective corners of the tub were not something you were willing to give up.

Slowly, within the years, that room became your favourite one and you spent most of your time in there; therefore, Felix – your Royal Counsellor, knew exactly where to find you anytime you were neither in the throne room nor in your private quarters.

And today was definitely not an exception.

«The Royal Council had a meeting,» Felix announced, elegantly walking in the room with his hands behind his back.

«Without the Queen? Now, that’s treason.» you remarked, raising your eyebrow while sipping blood from a golden chalice. «What did they say to make you run here?»

«Apparently, you need to get married.» he dramatically announced, faking an innocent expression as he tilted his head, his fluffy white hair moving along as he shifted his gaze to the left with a sudden amused smile at the memory to what happened to your first and only husband.

«I’ve been running this Kingdom on my own for more than 800 years,» you slowly savoured another sip of blood, shifting your position in the water in order to sit more comfortably, «what could have happened to make so weak to the point of needing a man?» your gaze burned into Felix’s gentle one, finding there the same sight of pure love and submission that had been there every day since the day you turned him, centuries ago. From the moment you had saved him from certain death, Felix had loved you in the most innocent way, seeing you as his saviour and therefore, immediately submitting to your power not only as a Queen, but also as a woman.

«The Kingdom of the West wants us to give up the City or Epheria to them.» Felix referred you what they had been talking about during the meeting. An annoyed, exasperated sigh escaped your lips as you were about to answer the obvious: only an idiot would give up a port city as big as Epheria, when Felix interrupted you again, «They threatened to conquer Calpheon if we don’t.»

«What?!» you asked in disbelief, «Are they planning to cut us out from every western resource?»

«The Council…» Felix watched as you carefully placed the golden cup of blood on the floor and far away enough so that it wouldn’t mistakenly fall into the water. «…said we could ask for help to the Kingdom of the East. King Changbin not only is powerful but also unmarried.»

As you immersed yourself even further in the water so that only your face remained outside, you had to admit to yourself that probably, it would have been the best thing to do.

As much as you hated the idea of submitting to a man and therefore depend on him, your priority has always been thinking about your Kingdom and the people who lived in it. Probably, this was the main reason why you managed to turn a small and helpless Kingdom into one of the largest and most influential realms.

Calpheon, however, was a big and lively city, its geographical position in the centre of your territories made it particularly coveted; you managed to conquer the city with extreme fatigue not more than two centuries ago, and since then, you had to always pay particular attention to the number of soldiers assigned to the city’s protection. Cases of attempted invasion by external realms were not uncommon, but you were more than determined to defend what you conquered and therefore, if you managed to get the Kingdom of the East’s alliance, it would have been impossible for someone else to conquer it.

As for King Changbin, it was certainly not the first time you killed a vampire, you could eventually get rid of him as soon as he got too annoying for your tastes. The victorious smile on Felix’s lips slowly grew wider as he saw you mentally fighting with yourself before eventually, giving up.

«I will immediately send them a letter.» he added, before excusing himself and letting you quietly finish your bath.

As expected, King Changbin’s reply came few days later.

«Why is he sending his emissary?» you mumbled in disbelief, re-reading his letter as both you and Felix sat on your bed. Felix shrugged, his lips slightly tainted from the blood he sipped from one of your expensive chalices; despite you were confused with why King Changbin wasn’t personally coming, you smiled with adoration at the boy sitting with crossed legs in front of you.

Felix’s soft white hair was in stark contrast to his deep crimson eyes; however, the innocent look he had anytime he drank blood made him somehow look some sort of angelic. You reached out with your thumb in order to collect the driblet of blood threatening to fall from his lips before sucking on your tainted finger.

«You’ve been a vampire for more than 800 years and you’re still a messy eater,» you chuckled, «oh, Lixie, you’re such a baby.» you chanted, smiling softly at Felix, which simply stuck his tongue out.

If you were to be honest, you expected the East Kingdom’s emissary to look like a lot of things: an old man, a grumpy bishop – even more annoying than the one admitted in your Council, but definitely, you didn’t expect him to look like a hot, young boy with dark blonde hair and a constant unbothered expression.

The Council had a meeting few hours after Jisung’s arrival and, surprisingly, he didn’t come to sign the marriage’s papers.

«My King wants me to stay for a bit and send him some reports if this marriage is worth the effort.» Jisung’s gaze teasingly locked with yours, and you felt your cheeks heating up.

«Worth the effort?» you immediately answered, but he simply nodded at you in a polite way; with an annoyed scoff, you placed your chin in the palm of your hand while raising your eyebrow, silently waiting for him to explain himself.

«The effort, obviously, would be risking a war against the Kingdom of the West.» he added, but before he could talk further, the bishop interrupted him.

«Maybe you should write a report to your King and ask him how long you should extend your stay.» you uncomfortably shifted in your seat at how rude he had just been to your guest.

«Remind me why do we need a Catholic icon when we’re literally walking corpses.» you mumbled, leaning towards Felix which simply looked at you in an almost scolding manner.

«Well, because at least three quarters of the people of this Kingdom are not.» he mumbled back, reminding you once again that, even if he was the most obnoxious man you’ve met in almost a millennium, you still somehow needed his presence.

Vampires and human got somehow along with each other, even if cases of vampires murdering people due to their hunger weren’t uncommon. However, during the years, people slowly got used to the idea of having a vampire as their Queen and most absolute authority and so, some people started to willingly offer their blood to vampires, instead of letting them kill people in order to feed.

Jisung politely smiled at the bishop, imperceptibly raising his eyebrow, «Forgive me, your Grace, but I know exactly how to behave, since I’ve been serving my King for as long as I can remember,» despite the fact that he kept a gentle tone, his eyes were narrowed, and the bishop furiously blushed in embarrassment.

«He shut him up so easily!» you whispered to Felix, as the both of you shared a surprised look. «I like him already.» you mumbled again before raising your voice for everyone at the table to hear you loud and clear.

«At least, we’ll have some entertainment.» Felix remarked, commenting on how in almost a millennium, occasions to feel honestly amused eventually started to decrease.

«If all the problems have been settled,» you glared at the bishop which was refraining from meeting your stern gaze, «Jisung will remain for as long as he needs.»

The citizen of your country deeply respected you and they meticulously followed your rules, knowing that eventually, your forgiveness wouldn’t have been something easy to obtain.

Over the years, however, your hatred remained particularly focused on a very particular guild and so, as you were looking at five wanted criminals being harshly pushed on their knees, their wrists tightly handcuffed behind their back, you smirked in victory, not bothering to hear their pathetic excuses to defend themselves.

«For what concerns me,» your voice echoed through the throne room, «I consider you guilty of all the charges that have been made.» you moved your hand towards the captain of the guards which immediately understood.

Immediately, the criminals were dragged away from the throne room and escorted to the dungeons where eventually, they would either die or become a tasty midnight snack.

«Did you notice the seal embroided on their cape?» Felix whispered, politely leaning towards you from his standing position; you nodded, your eyes still focused on the writhing men being dragged away. There was no way you could forget; there was only one Guild which used two crossed axes as their symbol, and it was the Guild which almost killed Felix centuries ago.

«This is why, I want them gone.» you suddenly turned your head towards Felix, smiling softly at him before leaning in and gently head-butting your forehead against his; the two of you giggled, an exchange which didn’t go unnoticed to Jisung’s eyes, watching the two of you from a close distance.

It was not uncommon for people to mistaken your relationship with Felix; your eyes met Jisung’s across the room, and you immediately understood he was studying the two of you, trying to figure out the bond the two of you were sharing.

Although days passed by rather quickly, you never expected to find Jisung’s presence so enjoyable and entertaining; you spent most of your days showing him around – both the Castle and the Kingdom, and he always seemed positively surprised anytime by how many things reminded him of his Kingdom, therefore unexpectedly praising you at random times and making you advert your gaze in a sort of embarrassment you didn’t understand.

Jisung was clever boy, a few centuries younger than you were; you learned that as much as you did with Felix, Changbin was the one that turned him. Him and Changbin were actually good friends during Jisung’s mortal life, but eventually, Jisung got ill and Changbin decided to turn him into a vampire – of course with the boy’s approval.

Anytime Jisung talked about his King or his Kingdom, you could see a sense of pride and affection in his eyes, and you smiled anytime, glad to know that you weren’t the only one blessed with a faithful and loyal counsellor.

By the way Jisung talked about his friendship with Changbin, you found it easy to see yourself in his King; you knew that Changbin would have burned the world to ashes for Jisung if needed, exactly as you would have done for Felix.

Jisung, unexpectedly, was also very talented in giving you mixed feelings; he was undoubtedly attractive, and he thought the same thing about you, but he acted in a way no one in your Kingdom has ever dared to. Jisung would occasionally answer with sarcastic remarks, giving you the impression that he wanted to challenge you but honestly, he was only trying to get under your skin; you quickly catched up with his game of his, entertained and intrigued.

Therefore, the tension between the two of you inevitably started to grow to the point where anytime you were alone in your carriage and he was looking at you as if he would have wanted to devour you, you had to focus on the small talk you were having, in order not to move from your position and sit on his lap.

Sometimes, you had the feeling that you and Jisung were having a sort of competition, playing a game where you had to make the other give in to your mutual desire first.

Jisung looked breath taking dressed in white, you thought, walking towards him as he was politely waiting for you in front of the wide glass door leading to the garden.

«If I may ask, your Majesty,» despite your authorization to drop the formalities, he kept referring to you by your title; a normal act which, however, escaping his lips always seemed incredibly provocative. Jisung politely offered you his arm, and you gladly linked yours with his, content about the small touches you shared. «I was wondering why you and Felix seemed to be so close.» he wondered as the both of you slowly strolled through the extensive and blooming garden of your castle during a spring afternoon.

«Why, are you doubting my loyalty?» advertising your gaze from Jisung’s attractive features, you prevented an amused giggle from escaping your lips, «Can you keep a secret?» you felt Jisung’s eyes on you at your sudden whisper, «Felix was the first human I turned, long ago. I was barely over the new-born phase when I managed to save him from the grasp of death,» your eyebrows knitted in a momentarily sad expression at the bittersweet memory of that night, Felix’s pained screams sometimes haunting your nightmares even after all these years. «We were both thieves back then, when eventually, we were so thirsty that we sucked both a Duke’s and his wife’s blood, before stealing their titles, moving to the Capital and living their expensive lives.»

Jisung listened carefully while glancing at you every now and then. «Did you steal the former Queen’s life, too?» he wondered, and you laughed at his innocent question.

«I didn’t need to. I simply convinced the King to divorce and marry me instead.» you explained with a smug expression, opening your expensively decorate fan, a mere act of pretend, since you were immune at the temperature as much as Jisung was. «You’d be surprised about how a young girl could manipulate an old man; with the false promises of exchanging sexual favours for a title, he easily subdued. What a pity,» you cooed, not doing anything to change the unapologetic tone of your voice, «He couldn’t stay alive to see the sunset that evening.» even by a quick glance, you could feel the curiosity that Jisung’s eyes were showing, along with unspoken questions.

«Killing a vampire isn’t easy, I know,» you explained, your hand slightly tightening around Jisung’s firm arm, «This is why I've been poisoning him for months, thanks to Felix’s help. He died as soon as he touched the bed; the potion was created to have the same symptoms as a heart attack. I nominated Felix as my one and only Royal Counsellor, and I guess we simply grew even closer… I consider him as my little brother, and he sees me as his saviour.» you confessed, looking ahead of you with a sincere and content smile, «I believe Felix is the only one who gave me his love without asking for something in return.»

Jisung attentively listened to your story, fascinated but also not completely surprised by your wit; even if no one knew the details of your ascent to the throne, everyone knew about the vampire Queen that managed to turn a small and helpless Kingdom into one of the largest and most important ones, all by herself. Therefore, the unexpected threaten to your Kingdom was, to others, a more than rich occasion to become even more powerful.

«I don’t understand why you shared such an important secret with me,» Jisung provoked you, leaning dangerously against your ear, «I could always tell someone else.» you stopped walking, a knowing smile adorning your lips as you stepped in front of him with a small graceful movement.

«You probably wouldn’t like to underestimate me, Han Jisung.» you ignored the crimson shadow flashing into his eyes, as you delicately closed your fan in order to hold on it with both hands behind your back, before taking another imperceptible step closer and pressing your chest against his. «I’m not afraid to get my hands dirty.» you whispered, and Jisung held your gaze; something you were definitely not used to. Beside Felix, everyone was scared of you to the point to advert their gaze immediately – some didn’t dare to look at you in the eyes in the first place, and the fact that Jisung’s mischievous and provocative gaze was burning into yours made something into your soul spark into a foreign sensation you haven’t felt in centuries.

Jisung was challenging you: not your authority as a Queen, but as a person. He loved to see how you reacted every time, to see you always on the verge of losing yourself to your instinct and desires but somehow, always managing to refrain yourself from doing so; Jisung wanted you and he hoped, deep inside, that someday you would forget about the etiquette.

With your chest pressed against his, you had the sensation that anyone could cut the tension between the two of you with a knife; it was obvious that you were attracted to each other, but he was an emissary from another Kingdom, while you were somehow being tested for your attitude and whether your Kingdom was a valid choice. Even if you wanted to abandon yourself to these new and definitely addictive feelings by easily closing the gap between your lips and let Jisung take you right there, behind a bush of roses in full bloom, you knew that your Kingdom was in danger, and so you needed Changbin’s help. Therefore, sleeping with his emissary wouldn’t have been a great move.

«Believe me, Your Majesty,» Jisung’s eyes shifted between your lips and your eyes, tentatively licking his lips as you felt his fingers sliding on your corset until they stopped at your hips, «Neither am I.» his hold was tight – not enough to hurt but enough to feel his fingertips firmly holding onto your waist; your breathing quickened, your corset accentuating the rise and fall of your chest.

Jisung’s gaze alone almost made your knees weak, and the mere thought of how his touch would feel on your bare skin made all the long forgotten carnal desires immediately spark once again in a new and lively flame.

However, you were more than a young and naive girl and so, with a polite smile, you eventually detached yourself and the two of you went back on your peaceful afternoon walk.

«You could always sneak him into your chambers, it’s not like you’ve never done it.» Felix commented as the two of you were sitting on your bed that same evening and you finished telling him about your somehow blooming feelings towards Jisung. «What was his name, again?» he added, looking at the ceiling while leaning back and propping his weight on his hands, «Seungmin? Well, you know who, the midnight snack.» Felix winked at you, and you threw a pillow at him.

«It’s a little bit different, this time,» you sighed, «He’s not the gardener, I literally have to marry his best friend.»

«I still don’t see the problem.» Felix shrugged, and you wished to be a little more like him.

Eventually, the small conversation you had with Felix did wonders to your ego and therefore, a week later, Jisung was quietly walking next to you, your arms brushing against each other’s every now and then; even if you were probably too close despite the minimum distance your etiquette imposed, neither of you cared. Your destination was once again the garden, the protagonist of your early afternoon walks and in order to get there, you had to walk in front your private chambers doors.

As soon as you were almost in front of the familiar white and golden door, Jisung quickly backed you against the wall with a sudden move, taking advantage of the white marble pillar partially hiding your bodies from indiscreet eyes. Instinctively, you had grabbed onto his arm so that now, while your back was pressed flush against the wall, your right hand was gripping his bicep and your left hand was pressed against his chest. You were strong, and therefore you could easily push him away whether you didn’t want to be so close to him or weren’t completely sure about it; Jisung would have accepted your choice.

As your eyes shortly admired his delicate features, the hand on his chest travelled upwards, now resting on his shoulder and close to his nape; in return, Jisung was holding your waist once again, before slowly raising his right hand until he moved a wild strand of hair behind your ear.

Without a word being shared between the two of you, Jisung’s fingertips gently caressed your cheek; it was a soft, almost imperceptible touch and you were sure that if your eyes were closed, you wouldn’t have noticed it so easily. Despite his skin being cold, you somehow felt as if the path his fingertips were slowly tracing was burning, slowly setting your soul on fire with such an innocent movement.

Jisung’s eyes kept boring into yours as his fingers went lower, caressing your jaw, your neck, until they eventually came to a stop on your collarbones, lowering just enough to hover above the line of the middle of your breasts, as much as your corset allowed him to.

Despite your desire and the fact that you were tempted to lower your gaze and follow the path of his fingertips, your gaze never faltered from his, finding the sight much more entertaining. Jisung’s eyes never showed you any trace of lie, and this time, you could see lust and desire slowly cloud his gaze, at the point where his eyes gradually turned from a warm brown to a deep and bright crimson red.

Neither of you dared to say anything, both too afraid to break the small bubble that had built itself around the two of you; Jisung’s face inched closer, to the point where his lips where hovering above yours and you could almost savour the taste of his lips.

The hold on his nape tightened, and you were about to close your eyes, certain that he would have closed the gap and finally satisfy your mutual desire when suddenly, Jisung took a step back, a smug expression on his face and his crimson eyes making him look even more attractive.

Jisung was provoking you once again, and you knew that it was his way to show you his intentions while hiding between his gestures the silent question of how far were you supposed to go. Rising an eyebrow, you scoffed, wondering if he would leave you hanging also during other more intimate situations, the desire to find out lighting up into your soul.

With a quick glance, you looked to your left and to your right to see of someone was in sight. Just to be sure, you repeated the action: once, twice, three times, until you took a step forward and pressed yourself against Jisung’s chest - which actually looked surprised for a moment, before quickly sliding his left hand on the side of your neck, almost as if he was waiting for you to initiate the kiss so that he could deepen it and pulling you closer.

«I’m not going another day without knowing what you feel like underneath me.» you mumbled, your voice breaking the silence and giving you the confirmation that it was real.

That afternoon, instead of going for a ride on the countryside with Jisung in order to enjoy the gentle spring afternoon breeze, you rode Jisung on your wide canopy bed, his nails sinking in your waist and his mouth firmly attached on an invisible and always different path from your lips, to your neck, to your breasts.

As cliché as it was, you and Jisung fit like puzzle pieces also in the bedroom, Jisung submitting naturally to your dominant behaviour and making you want to reward him in return, all because he was always so incredibly good for you that, for a moment, you wished you could marry him instead of Changbin.

A month had gone by since the day you first made love, and you and Jisung didn’t bother to hide the development of your relationship; the fact that Jisung and Felix grew close as well made your heart swell.

There was a small plan building itself in your mind, a small possibility which would have let you keep both boys as close as you needed, and you hoped to have the King of the East’s benevolence; even if you knew that eventually, you wouldn’t give up so easily, you never did.

As days went by while you were diligently scheming, the moment where you were holding a Royal Council while both Changbin and Jisung were sitting in front of you eventually arrived.

«I was thinking that King Changbin should focus on getting the Queen of the South’s favour.» you suddenly spoke, «and maybe, ask for her hand in marriage.»

Everyone’s eyes were suddenly on you, while Felix simply rolled his eyes with an amused scoff; during the years, he got used to your dramatic behaviour to the point where he simply enjoyed the others’ reaction, since he already figured out what you were about to say.

Needless to say, everyone was pretty shocked by your sudden proposal; King Changbin was looking at you with his brow furrowed in confusion, even if he quickly put the pieces together as he briefly glanced at Jisung, looking at you with his eyes as wide as the moon.

«I was wondering about blessing your emissary with the pleasure if marrying me. He’d be Consort Prince, our territories will be united and we could still expand our reign; opportunity we’d immediately lose if me and Changbin got married.»

Somehow, your theory was incontrovertible, and Changbin agreed with an amused laugh - completely aware of the situation between you and Jisung, thanks to the fact that he often read about you in the latter’s report letters.

For the first time in your life, you didn’t find revolting the thought of being married; probably, because Jisung was your husband. The wedding ceremony took place a week after Changbin arrived, so that the two of you could enjoy the innocent and surprised look Jisung had plastered on his face as he was nominated Consort Prince.

«I’ll leave him in good hands,» Changbin joked, about to walk back on the carriage ready to bring him back home.

«Yeah, about that,» Felix’s answer came before than yours, «come check on him once in a while.» he mouthed at the King while suggestively pointing at you with his index finger, action which made Changbin and Jisung laugh while you harshly grabbed Felix by his left ear.

«I didn’t hear that,» you laughed, trying to keep a serious expression, «care to repeat?»

As Felix was pretending to wince in pain, you felt a strange and pleasing sensation in your soul. During your existence, you and Felix had always relied on one another and somehow, it felt disorientating but also nice to know that you could count on someone else which seemed to love you just as much as you did.

Jisung easily rolled the two of you around on your now shared bed, his hard length pressed against your inner thigh; it was something you were used to, Jisung would roll you on your back so that you’d immediately roll over once again because you were the one in charge and Jisung has always made it clear that he was more than willing to submit to you.

However, this time, as your back met the soft mattress and your wrists were trapped in Jisung’s hold, you didn’t move, looking at him expectantly, waiting for his next move. Keeping his gaze, you tilted your head on your side, baring your neck in a silent sign of submission; this time - for the first time in your life, you were more than willing to let someone else take control, and you knew that it was a special exception you were willing to make only for Jisung. He did the same you as soon as your marriage was announced, baring his neck to you only for you to claim, willing to be yours for eternity.

Jisung’s lips immediately attached to your neck in order to kiss and lick at your unmarked skin, and as soon as his hands left your wrists in order to spread your legs a bit wider and lifting them higher around his waist, yours flew into his now messy blonde hair, tugging and pulling while trying to guide him wherever you wanted to feel his lips more.

«Not so fast,» he murmured, grazing his fangs along the skin of your left breast, «don’t forget who’s in control.» you suppressed a moan at his audacity, completely aware about the fact that due to the continuous teasing that Jisung’s neglected length did anytime he brushed against your folds, you were so wet that you eventually coated part of Jisung’s length.

Jisung’s fangs drew a pattern along from your left breast to your left hipbone and you were about to go crazy because of that sensation, wanting him to actually sink his fangs in your neck as soon as possible, marking you as his.

«Don’t forget I could just take control, once again.» you whined even if you didn’t really want to, while trying to lift your hips in order to get more friction. Jisung took his time to answer, gradually licking and kissing his way back to your mouth.

«You will not,» he simply smirked, his lips hovering above yours and his crimson eyes matching yours; he reached down, pressing the tip of his length against your folds and moving it with slow and teasing movements, spreading your wetness around even more. «You’re enjoying this way too much.» something in Jisung’s tone made you want to whisper him to ruin you, but you refrained from doing so, opting instead from closing your legs around his hips as he carefully pressed inside you only the tip of his length, making you instinctively clench. Jisung’s moans were addictive, and you wondered how loud and demanding he could get now that he was in charge.

«Can you do it, or do I still need to potty train you on how to pleasure me?» you teased, knowing what Jisung’s next move would have been and your breath was ragged and uneven due to anticipation.

«Watch your mouth,» Jisung’s hand covered your lips while a smug smirk was plastered on his face, «or you don’t get to come.» with that, he buried himself inside you with a deep and quick movement of his hips, and you closed your legs behind his waist as tight as you could, in bliss from the sudden stretch and from finally getting what you wanted.

Even if he was in charge, Jisung was still a gentleman and he patiently waited for you to adjust to the sudden stretch and therefore, allowing him to move while his head was buried in your neck – his fangs teasingly grazing at the skin, and when you did, you regretted the fact that you waited so much to let him take control in the first place.

Submissive Jisung was an intoxicating experience, he would be willing to do anything to please you while meticulously and obediently following your orders but you had to admit, dominant Jisung was just as mind blowing; he’d still do anything to please you but this time, following his own rules.

Just like that, you discovered a new and addictive side of Jisung: the one that liked to restlessly pound into you, bringing you close to your release and suddenly slow down his pace or stilling his hips while being buried deep inside you – enjoying the sensation of your wetness repeatedly clenching tight around his length and also, enjoying your reactions as you writhed underneath him, trying to move by yourself in order to finally come, movements which were always prevented from Jisung’s firm hold forcing you to keep still, everything while he praised you and ordered you to suck on his fingers or had his hand loosely wrapped around your throat.

«You look like a Goddess,» he praised, sucking at the skin of your neck as a particular harsh thrust made you choke on a breath you forgot to take.

As his thrusts increased speed, he tilted his head to the side, baring his neck in a silent question; the moment your fangs sinked into the side of Jisung’s neck, you came together, your bodies sweaty, your breath ragged, and matching content smiles. Jisung carefully rolled around - sliding out of you in the process, letting you finish feeding from him, whimpering in pleasure at the feeling of your tongue carefully lapping at the skin of his neck to clean it from any further trace of blood.

When few minutes later, you and Jisung were cuddling under the blankets, you mindlessly caressed his marked neck, and his arms tightened around you, affectionately kissing your forehead.

«I owe Changbin a lot.» you heard him sigh, content.

«I’m glad you know.» you smiled against his skin, and you chuckled together before eventually, falling asleep.

Both you and Jisung groaned to the sudden light that hit your bodies.

«Wake up, little fuckers,» you heard Felix’s deep voice say as the two of you brought the blanket on top of your head with a coordinated movement, in a useless attempt to prolong your sleep, «pun intended.» you heard him add, immediately followed by Jisung’s breathless and sleepy laugh.

«Lix, close the windows,» you groaned. «It’s snowing.»

Felix turned towards you, which now were sitting on the bed while rubbing the remaining traces of sleep from your eyes. «It stinks in there, you horny teenagers.»

«You’re just envious,» you heard Jisung joke, and you were glad that they got along so well to joke so much with each other.

«Come here, let’s cuddle.» you opened your arms towards Felix which immediately joined you while remaining on top of the covers, saying that he “didn’t want to be traumatized for the rest of his life, since it was still kinda long,”, comment which made both you and Jisung burst out laughing as you laid there, cuddling to the two people you loved the most.

Eventually, exactly 184 years after you got married, you let Jisung mark you, proof that you were now completely equal; Jisung didn’t belong to you anymore, you belonged to each other.

all works © lettersfromaphrodite

Do not modify, repost, translate or plagiarize my stories. I only publish my works on tumblr & AO3.

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ms0milk · 2 years ago

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𝟏 | 𝐀 𝐖𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐖𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐚 𝐓𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐩

ー✧ prince!bakugou x royal guard!reader

"The prince meets you with a ferocity that probably stops people’s hearts and with his mother’s halo of silvery hair and decisive eyes, it’s lovely enough to stop yours too."

no cw big time fairytale castle, blunt bkg & silly co. reader's a lil stiff bc character arcs aren't built in a day, let the slowburn begin. i am not immune to aizawa in any universe. author does not attempt to hide how very badly she wants to ******* *** **** bkg's mama. 3.8k

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Waking up is so peaceful this morning. Gentle and warm.

"..…"

That sweet kind of rise between waking and dreaming, where you’re able to say goodbye to your dreams and the people in them with a tip of your hat and wave goodbye. Forgiving and patient.

“..Y/n…”

The queen was in your dreams tonight. And you were in your hometown– you’re there now. The fields are golden and heavy before autumn harvest and your neighbors have no need for locks on their doors. She is beautiful today, and she is your sister, your mother, your Lady when you try to look past the sun’s rays to her face. Up, up, up into her eyes, why can’t you find what you’re looking for? Higher and higher until it’s the stars you’re on your knees for.

“Y/n.”

You jolt at the sudden sensation of falling with a quick and panicked grip on your pillow but you’re back in your room, stuffed mattress and all. Every part of your body is grounded to woolen blankets and the weight at your feet. Someone laughs at the foot of your bed when you sigh in relief and you jump again, because this time it’s the queen.

“I’m sorry to wake you.” She smiles behind her hand. You’re staring. And then it’s been a second too long before you gather yourself like a member of the castle with some respect and make a move to stand for formal greetings. But you only get as far as sitting up when she stiffs her palm to your forehead. “Stay.”

From your spot still tucked in bed you muster a, “Yes, your Majesty.”

The queen’s hair is wild and silvery by the light of a candle she holds at her chest. The only light in the room. Heavy fur cape clasps fit neatly into the bodice of her nightgown– gown almost isn't the right word. You love her. There isn’t a citizen alive that doesn’t love her, “I have a question for you, Y/n.”

“Anything, Majesty.”

What time is it? Your curtain is drawn, but still there doesn’t seem to be any morning light trying to peek through.

“My son’s been invited east to celebrate a new observatory.” The queen pulls a once-neatly-wrapped envelope from her pocket, “The end of some momentous constructional undertaking or another,” she laughs. She extends her hand to you and smiles at just how dumbstruck you still seem to be by candlelight, “I’m sorry it’s so early.”

“Not at all.” You move too quickly and too slowly somehow– you curse yourself– while taking it from her, and regret what a silly child you must look like the way she has you perched against your pillows.

“I just received word from a Takoban messenger. A letter from their queen.” You nod, turn the letter over in your hands until it falls open. “He’s leaving today and I would very much like you to accompany him.”

Your apartments on Castle Southside are suddenly less like one modest room and more like the very stables you live above, wholly unfit for her. She’s still smiling at you. You’re still tucked-in. “Majesty, me?”

“If you wouldn’t mind.”

“Of course not. But wouldn’t– shouldn’t Master Jeanist go?”

“Jeanist stays with me.” And you realize in horror– too many emotions for one woman to manifest only minutes after waking up– that you implied the queen may have made a mistake. “Don’t apologize,” she catches you before you can open your sleep-addled mouth again, “Captain of the Guard stays here. But you’ve trained with Jeanist for years Y/n, you’ll be my son’s captain soon.” She scoots closer to you. She takes your hand, “Can I trust you with this mission?”

It's fuzzy, hearth warmth and happiness when she uses your name, “With anything.”

Queen Mitsuki handed over one more letter before leaving you to prepare for your morning. Just a thank you card, she’d said. For you to deliver to the eastern queen, the Queen of Takoba.

As long as she asks you might do anything, although spending the most time with Jeanist meant nothing by way of his successor. The next monarch will choose his own captain. Spending the most time with Jeanist only means that you haven't given great priority to making your own friends.

The click of your heels down the stone hallway line up with another’s as you round the corner to your station. A tree today. Trees and wildlife grow freely in the Bakugous’ Aldera Castle and make the palace warm even in the grip of winter. Knobbly trunks and grasping vines twist in and out of windows, fruit rolls down the halls in fall. Squirrels and birds get in so regularly that members of the guard each have one shift a week exclusively for hoisting the creatures back out.

Fresh air is never far away. In the springtime you are all tasked with sweeping blossoms off the castle floors before they wither or trip a staff, and from the very second the first magnolia blooms in March you’re swimming in flowers til June.

Jeanist stands under the lichen of Castle Southside’s oak tree when you arrive, and the soldier he was speaking to has already strode away. Tall, black hair.

The oak tree is four stories tall to have arms reaching this far inside and is older than any historian could recall. It is precious family. It reaches up and over the banister at the edge of the hallway and dips down into the library like a leafy chandelier, causing much headache in autumn when Aldera's tallest ladder is procured for the poor novice whose job it is to clean the books underneath.

“Good morning, Y/n.”

“Sir.”

Jeanist only smiles under the high collar of his red uniform. You rarely get the chance to stand beside your mentor anymore, now that the prince needs only a senior guard on diplomatic errands. Your uniforms were meant to stand together just like this– warm next to each other. Yours are the only two of their kind and your mentor made these himself, blood red gambeson and white bone clasps. You assume your position beside the tree and stare dead ahead, happy, if only for a second, if only on the inside, to belong once again to this group of two.

“Y/n?”

“Sir.” You don’t break eye contact with the far wall. Dawn is dim on the fifth floor of Southside. All you have here to entertain yourself is a tapestry you’ve memorized every stitch of, until another soldier comes to relieve you.

“Did you speak with the Queen?”

“Yes, sir. Early this morning.”

“Earlier than dawn?” Jeanist chuckles and turns to gaze out the window through the ancient knots of the oak tree. The sun crests the mountains somewhere farther than you’ve ever traveled and spills into the folds of his uniform. It warms the back of your head. “What did you tell her?”

“That I would be honored to comply with Her Majesty's request.”

“And how do you feel?”

“Privileged, sir.”

“Y/n." Your eyes tug at your periphery, confused by the general chattiness of the old guard this morning, “I’m proud of you.”

Your head turns fully at this, in surprise and without your permission, and you realize it hasn’t yet struck you to ask why he’s at your post in the first place.

“Go on.” He’s looking at you too now, as he has been the whole time, “They’ll leave without you at this rate.”

You stare for another two seconds at this strange mentor of yours. You try to keep your heart from spilling onto the floor is actually what you do; it’s all you can manage. “Yes, sir.”

If anything you’ll be the first of the entire party to arrive in the Great Hall, but you still let Jeanist assume your position and even turn in surprise again when he rests a hand on your shoulder. He taps one of your small earrings with a gentle finger and with his other hand unclasps the dragontooth brooch from his breast.

“How long did you stare when the queen spoke with you this morning?”

Ears go hot immediately under his knowing gaze, but he only smiles. He pulls your hand forward and rests the dragontooth in your palm with an amount of pressure that can only mean, be careful. And so you will, you determine, and turn to make your way to collect your things.

“Word of advice!” In a neverending morning of spinning, you drag your foot and face him again. Jeanist is nearly laughing and trying very well to hide his worry, “If you stare at the prince the way you have the tendency to do, he might just take your head off.”

He doesn’t get to see you smile often, but it does feel fitting now for you to nod your goodbye to him with the look of yours he loves so much, “He might try, sir."

It didn’t take more than a few months in the castle, at six years old, for the prince to rectify his opinion of you. To clarify his disdain in the event that his mother’s favoritism towards the orphan gave anyone the wrong idea about his own priorities. You could hardly say it mattered. Hundreds of new faces fill the castle every year and he had forgotten yours just as quickly as you had been whisked into Jeanist’s care to begin your training and earn your keep.

Today your satchel is packed, your hair’s braided back, and the prince thinks no more or less of you than he always has. Indifference will make your job easy.

The whole sprawling maze of stone buildings warm in the morning sun as you make your way to Castle Northside, although autumn is here and soon heavy curtains will need to be draped over windows and trees. Soon too, it’ll be time to sweep fallen leaves out of the hallway and collect ripe peaches from the branches of the western stairwell. You’ll need to have your winter uniform cleaned when you return so the white fur of the collar glows, because when the queen happens to see you on duty she always remarks on how well you care for her colors.

Even your earrings– tiny suns, gold and dangling– represent your love for Aldera down to the smallest detail. They were a gift, and you swell when her eyes jump from one carefully polished detail on your body to the next. To Jeanist, she is personification of meticulous craft. You know that’s why he loves her. Each hulking winter cape in her collection drops her into the background of some priceless painting or ethereal scene and for this reason alone, winter is your favorite season.

Sometimes in cold weather, when she sneaks to the kitchen in the middle of the night, Her Majesty wears battle gauntlets to stay warm and is altogether too Alderan in delicate furs and armored gloves.

It is just at this moment of routine admiration that, out of an auxiliary hallway to the kitchen, saunters a tall boy you’ve never seen before wearing the white soldier’s greaves. He's hardly dressed, greaves aside, all loose undershirt and lazy stride. He knows your name and he calls to you as he approaches.

“Yes soldier?”

His limbs are knobbly and his mouth hitches uncomfortably upwards when he finally gets close enough to you to speak, “Hanta ma'am, Sero Hanta.” Tall and disrespectful. “Master Jeanist sent me to fetch your halberd from the smithy but when I came back–”

“I don’t keep my halberd in the smithy.”

He shifts his weight between two legs too long for his greaves like he has somewhere else to be, “Whoever’s it is, Kirishima has it now and we’ve all been searching Southside like madmen trying to fin–”

“Who–” You shake your head and turn to face him fully now, “Why does the master–”

“Sero! Oh my everloving gods you found her!” Another boy, quite blond, scrambles out of a different hallway– oh, he’s tripping on the decorative runner– out of breath to the soldier’s side. “Kirishima–”

“You found her!” One last voice shrills over the banister of the hallway above. This one belongs to a lithe pink girl and she hops the last five stairs to land at your side, “Don’t you look nice today Miss Guard.”

“Excuse me?”

She addresses her companions instead, “Where’s Kirishima?”

You have half a mind to take the closest person by the arm and hold them for questioning. How have they gotten so far into the center of the castle unaccompanied? To whom do they belong? “Identify yourselves.”

“No time for that,” Soldier Sero snaps and links a hand under each of his companions’ arms, “We’ll parse out introductions once we’re not all about to be hanged.” Without direction or permission, the three of them are down the last stretch of hall quicker than north wind through bare branches and great iron doors scream open.

You’ve walked the Hall ten thousand times and so the gold trim, the fireplace and both it's stories, the sappy scent of pine, and the rows of tables long enough to seat whole families of dragons, only bring tears to your eyes on occasion. The floor is cobbled with river stones that catch fruit and nuts in their grooves but glow a molten-glass purple when the sun comes in through windows. It gets warm, too warm, when it’s full of staff at mealtimes so you take your dinners elsewhere. It’s too stuffy. You’ve never managed large crowds in tight spaces so times like these are precious, when it’s empty before breakfast and still clean from the night's housekeeping.

Except it’s not empty now, is it? There are three fools and two brand new strangers loitering in front of the fireplace at the other end of the room, just waiting for you to call for reinforcements. Sero begins to take off his pants–

“Soldier!” You shout down the Hall almost as quickly as you cross it.

“Good morning,” an altogether new voice pools between your exclamations.

Of the five people in the empty room, two of them obviously belong someplace very far away. Somewhere unkind. Blue tunics and windswept hair. You slow your warpath and try to take in the details of the two new men that Aldera's three fugitives have approached without an ounce of concern or respect for personal space.

The younger of the pair repels hair ruffles and claps on the shoulder from your three trespassers while the taller man, worn and travel-sallow, peers over the bustle to you.

His eye contact doesn't match the way he holds his exhausted body. It is this one part of him that threatens, surely only in your own tired mind, sudden and practiced violence. You move closer.

“I am Master Aizawa."

When he blinks the threat vanishes and you buckle a bit in the whiplash from danger to gentle authority. You are unarmed for a second– suddenly a schoolgirl again, pitied by her teacher in a classroom full of people who haven't learned to talk to child soldiers.

"Your party will be under my protection and instruction beginning today.” Disarming eye contact aside, Master Aizawa, this fourth stranger of the morning, looks as if he could barely be trusted to remain upright on a sunny day, let alone manage other people. “This young man is Hitoshi Shinsou,” he tips his chin to the boy trying to stand tall beside him, still speaking only to you over the chittering crowd, “my apprentice and your second in command.”

Windswept, violent, exhausted, trespassers, guests, useful, useless– these people do not matter. You are meant to be waiting for the prince and his convoy not chasing strangers in circles around the castle, when a much worse thought comes clear to center focus. In your rush this morning it hadn’t occurred to you that this group of people might share your objective. The iron doors grunt open again in your confusion but louder than the doors are the people walking through them.

“Oh amazing, you found her!”

“I could hear you horrible fucks all the way from the courtyard.”

Your blood doesn’t rush properly for a second most likely because your heart has stopped pumping it out. The prince. You square your body to the back wall immediately and bow with fists at your side, trying to bury the incorrigible urge to stare.

Even from half a Hall away it is palpable, the tremendous confidence that swells to every corner of a room when he enters. He wears an Alderan vest lined with furs and you know the clasps at his neck are gold because the queen wouldn’t settle for less. The red cape they grip sweeps in an arc as he navigates tables, and walking duly tall beside him is the prince's champion, Kirishima, who holds a polearm in one hand while waving to the group with the other.

The two familiar faces put you at a strange kind of ease. Kirishima is a joyful addition to the castle, always smiles for staff in passing, and the prince– the prince is taller now. It’s been years since you’ve stood near him properly. Castle staff are meant to bow their heads when a royal approaches. You’re fairly familiar with the details of his boots but not much else.

“Good morning, Highness,” Master Aizawa is the first to reply and his voice simmers just above a growl. You raise your head so that you’re standing tall when the prince finishes his march to the group but you’re too practiced in looking away to keep your eyes up for long.

“Long time no see old man.”

“Ready?”

“Let’s get this over with.” The prince doesn’t offer you a glance, not even a blink, before he’s tossing a rucksack from the man’s outstretched arm over his shoulder.

Soldier Sero calls after him, “You clean up nice,” and lifts his arm to give the prince a playful swat, but you’re already holding his wrist behind his back and he’s standing on tall tippy toes to keep the pressure in his knobby elbow from breaking it. The prince squares himself to the yelping and now he’s looking at you.

“S-sorry Y/n! Friendly fire.”

You drop Sero’s arm and try to speak– it's your only chance for appropriate introduction– but the prince meets you with a ferocity that probably stops people’s hearts and with his mother’s halo of silvery hair and decisive eyes, it’s lovely enough to stop yours too. His coalfire gaze is quick and flickering. Like he hopes to avoid looking at you altogether. You try to speak even less successfully than the last time, to wet your lips, try to make a sound, but he’s already rolling his eyes and ushering the two blue guards towards the door.

“I don’t need a fuckin’ babysitter. The rest of you, hurry up.”

They do. The prince, two escorts, and three guests are back out the iron doors without so much as a greeting, explanation, or itinerary. You stand next to the cold fireplace, still half bowed in greeting.

As the Great Hall stills, empty now except for Kirishima, the redhead sidles closer in the quiet. He watches you excitedly, as you exhale and adjust the travel bag at your hip, eager to present you with the weapon he’s been carrying.

“Mornin’, I think this is from Jeanist?" He chirps and twitters with a smile and precisely no clue what it is he’s handed to you. He’s straightforward and confident and warm.

It’s been a long time since a day so new has been so active. Since dawn, nothing but one heart palpitation after the next. One pair of red eyes to the next. The prince’s red burns your vision like sunspots, Aizawa's turn grapes to wine, but Kirishima’s is patient. You’re slow to remove your gloves before handling the weapon and take it from the champion who vibrates in the new quiet. He is not particularly good at standing still.

Shifting in your hands is a halberd. Its balance is even and it’s not the cherrywood weapon you’re familiar with, the one that’s hopefully still hanging up in its slot in the Keep. This weapon is a deep blood red from shaft to socket. You nod your head without taking your eyes off the shimmer of the metal polished so fine it's turned white, and on any other day there might be tears in your eyes.

Kirishima is still smiling as you fiddle with the rivets, “You have lovely taste, it’s beautiful.”

“It’s not mine,” you whisper, because it’s Master Jeanist’s.

Outside of the castle gates, a particularly dazzling blue carriage is waiting, pulled by a team of white horses. You squint at the three fools wrestling with each other next to a quilted door of the most delicate vehicle you’ve ever seen. Like something out of a storybook, like something built by fairies. The prince tiffs with a less-than-interested Master Aizawa in the grass a ways off and taps his foot angrily just like his mother.

“Are you the Alderan escort?” Shinsou, the spitting image of apathy, appears between you and Kirishima as you trek the stone path to join the party. He hands you each a sizable knapsack.

You nod, “Y/n, apprentice to Captain Jeanist.”

“The one and only?”

“Captain?”

“No, the only apprentice,” Shinsou corrects and smiling eyes betray his disinterest, “I’ve heard stories. It’s nice to meet you, Y/n.”

“Likewise,” you murmur as he leaves you with a bag in both hands, and strides back to the crowd to help load luggage. The champion is long gone and mingling with friends and so you’re alone again, left to fiddle at a distance with your halberd and the leather sling used to carry it on your back.

When you gaze back over the group from afar, it does seem that everyone but you already quite likes one another, and it probably feels that way because it’s true. They know each other somehow and you are the only stranger. A foreigner at the front gates of your home.

Next to the stack of luggage, Sero opens the door for his two friends and you must watch them all curtsy before trying to wrestle each other inside. Shinsou catches the blond when he trips backwards on the single carriage step, Sero is finally wearing pants that fit him, black and pleated, and the prince is now stamping his foot on the ground in conversation with the most unfazed man you’ve ever met. Master Aizawa, you suppose, from Takoba.

Behind you the warm castle whistles with wind and morning activity. Your home. In front of you the pink-haired girl blows kisses to imaginary admirers and Kirishima hoists the prince into the carriage by force. It hasn’t been more than an hour and it is already good, true, and apparent that this caravan will have your full attention or else start a war.

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tagged angels ✧.* @nnubee @cherrykamado @nonomesupposedto @zombiewarprincess @kotarousproperty @strawberry-mentos69 @sveetnn @eirlysian @lunrai @cherripunch26nch26 @km74744 @arayoflia

could not tag for some reason

#welcome welcome to the show!#the first two chapters are the slowest so i'm killing two birds with one stone tonight #and publishing them at the same time #bakugou x reader #a hymn to black water #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bakugo x reader #mha fantasu au #bnha fantasy au #fantasy au bakugou #fantasy au bakugo #edited: 9/3/24

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