#king john x you

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Blue Blood and Rain [9]

King John x F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals • Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • buy me a coffee? •

Summary: You're the personal attendant to The Dowager Countess of Bowhale, who was visiting the court with her son.

The morning after.

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Some angst, due to Hugo in the previous chapter, kisses, pet names, oral sex (f!receiving), p in v sex, multiple orgasms, overuse of italics, power dynamics because he's the king, I have totally made up servant/noble dynamics because I wanted to, not beta read, please let me know if I've missed a warning.

Word Count: 2829

The faint, seemingly far off sounds of the fire in the King’s rooms being lit stir you from sleep.

Your limbs are heavy, filled with a pleasant ache and you open your eyes slowly. 

Darkness greets you, from the weak light you can see the curtains that surround the bed. They are closed, the intricately embroidered material depicting myths and legends. You’re not sure when they were drawn, but you are sure that it’s early morning, close to when you would normally rise, dress for the day, and start your duties. 

The mattress is warm, but empty beside you. You start to sit up, sleep finally withdrawing from its hold on you. 

Faintly, you can hear the rumble of the King’s voice, he’s speaking to someone. But you can’t make out the words. 

Hurriedly you rub your eyes, you’d spent far too long here. You glance about for your clothing from the night before, worrying your lip between your teeth, trying to see if you can spot them without opening the curtains and exposing yourself to whichever servant was lighting the fires. 

Suddenly the curtain opens and you jump back, covering yourself with the blankets.

The King chuckles, smiling warmly and closes the curtains. He is dressed in a beautifully decorated robe that he slips from his shoulders and lets pool on the floor as he climbs on the bed, revealing his nakedness. 

“What are you doing awake?” He kisses your cheek as he slips under the blankets next to you, wrapping you in his arms and shifting closer. His legs are a little cold from being out of the bed’s comfort. 

“Warm me up?” He kisses your shoulder as he coaxes you down to lay on your side with him snuggling into your back. 

You smile. “I have to-”

“You have to lay here and go back to sleep with me. I order it.” His eyes are already closed when you turn your head to look at him, but he’s grinning as if he can picture the expression you’re giving him. 

“Your Highness-”

“Yes, that's quite right, I am Your Highness, and I demand your loyalty.” He teases.

“You have that.” 

“And obedience.” 

“Well…” You yelp as he tickles your side and then squeezes you closer. 

“Do not make the King sentence you to his cold feet.” 

You giggle. 

“I have arranged for your morning duties to be covered, do not fret my love.” He says sweetly and kisses your cheek. “Stay with me a while longer?” 

You nod and let his embrace pull you back into slumber. 

.

The next time you wake is much later, sunshine just peaking through the gap in the curtains. Your dreams had been filled of him, of his touch and caress, sweet words and soft sighs. The King’s arms are still around you, his breathing steady as he sleeps. 

You sit up, turning to look at him. He’s so peaceful, his curls fanning over the pillow. There’s some stubble growing in the usually closely shaved gaps of his beard. It looks quite good, perhaps a full beard would suit him.

Part of you wants to reach out, to stroke his face. But you do not want to disturb his rest.

As carefully as you can, you start to slip out of the covers, just poking your foot off the bed.

“And where does my beloved think she’s going?” The King’s voice is thick, full of sleep as he sits up and nuzzles into your neck. 

“I was just going to-”

“Try and escape me.” He chuckles. “Am I such a terrible host? Or do you see me as some wicked tormenter? Here holding you against your will?” He wraps his strong arms around your waist and pulls you close, pressing his chest to your back as he kisses your pulse point.  

“Maybe I’m the one ensnaring you?” You tease and he groans softly. 

“Yes, yes, very good. I hope so, very much.” 

“You hope so?” You laugh.

“Hmm,” He kisses your cheek, then lips as you turn your head towards him. 

You snort, moving fully to face him and run your fingers over his cheeks. “Your beard is growing.”

He pouts.

“I like it.” You tap his nose softly.

That makes him smile, the expression is a little surprised. “You do?” 

“I think you would look very distinguished.” 

“Oh?” 

“Very regal.” 

“I think my lady is thinking only of what it would feel like between her legs.” He grins when you laugh, resting his hands on your hips and kneading your flesh slowly. 

“I think that is what, My King, is thinking of.” 

“I like that.” 

“What?” You put your arms around his neck, more than content to gaze at the happiness on his face. 

“Your King.” He puffs out his chest. “Just for you. No one else.” 

You swallow. The smallest crack in your chest, threatening to let thoughts of Hugo and the future filter into this perfect moment. You shift, breathing in to speak, and accidentally brush your thigh against the King’s heavy cock. 

His eyes flutter closed and he lets out a gentle hum of satisfaction that he cuts short. “I apologise, my love, being close to you does things to me. Especially when you are naked in my bed.” 

“Why are you apologising?” You ask sweetly. 

“Well, I am sure you are sore and not thinking about such-”

You cut him off with a firm kiss, licking into his mouth when he happily parts his lips for you and moaning. His fingers tighten on your hips as he fights the urge to pull you into his lap.

Instead, you push him back against the mattress and quickly climb on top of him, resting your legs either side of his. 

He kisses you hungrily, groaning as you move but pulling back at the last moment. “My love, do not worry about me, let me put my mouth on you and soothe your ache.” 

You shake your head. “I want to feel you inside.” You raise yourself up and take hold of his thick length, lightly stroking him a few times to savour the velvet heat of his skin under your palm. 

He groans, his hips jolting as he fights back the urge to buck. 

“I’ve been dreaming of you,” you mutter against his lip as you press his swollen head against your entrance. 

He sighs desperately, his lidded eyes widening when he feels the arousal between your legs. 

“You are so wet, my love.” He mutters, his voice soft and reverent, hypotonic almost. “Pray tell, how have you been dreaming of me?” He sits up, chest to chest.

“Of all the ways I could have you,” you whisper and kiss him roughly. He moans, grabbing hold of your sides as you slide your hand into his hair. 

At first, there is a slight resistance as you press down against him, a slight burn of stretched muscle. But the tip of his cock quickly breaches you, stretching you wide as you sink down onto him. 

You bite your lip, gasping. 

“My love,” he swallows, trying to keep the desperate whine out of his voice, to keep the moans at bay. “Please do not if it hurts, if you are sore or in pain.” 

You shake your head. “I’m alright, it’s not unpleasant.” You breathe in, and rock your hips slightly, easing further and further. 

He moans louder, pressing his face into your neck but keeping his lower body still. The tension of his muscles radiates into you, how hard he is trying not to move and let you take what you want. 

You swallow when you finally settle against him, his entire length sheathed fully inside. He presses deep, splitting you in two and piercing your very heart. 

“Are you alright?” He whispers, pulling back to gaze upon your face with his large, soft eyes. 

You nod and shift your hips a little to adjust and he gulps audibly. 

“Sorry,” You smile bashfully. 

“Do not be,” He groans softly and squeezes you a fraction tighter. “I am the one  that is the deviant here.” He teases. 

You giggle and lick into his mouth eagerly when he leans forward and kisses you hungrily. Slowly he drags his right hand down to lightly stroke your clit with his thumb. 

Your breathing hitches as he rubs soft circles and your hips buck instinctively. 

He hums against your lips, “Ah, that’s it, my love,” his voice is thick and syrupy, “please take your pleasure from me.”

You squeeze his shoulders, arching your back ever so slightly so that you can roll your hips experimentally. He watches you move, his eyes lidded and thumb never faltering. Spikes of pleasure jolt up your spine, piercing into your nerves as he strokes you. Your movements start to grow, your body demanding that you chase your pleasure as you adjust completely to his size. 

He presses his forehead to yours, breathing in your oxygen as you bounce on him. Slowly he starts to shallowly thrust upwards, the smallest movement of his hips and revels when you gasp, your eyes widening.

“There?” He mutters, so caught up in the feel of you, how you squeeze and soak his cock, how you cling to him so tightly. 

You nod, hardly able to form words as he brushes the head of his cock against the same spot again. 

The King moans softly, the wanton sound trickling into your ears and electrifying your bones. His thumb presses harder against your swollen clit and you can’t stop yourself, can’t hold back. Not when he’s looking at you like that and holding you so close. 

You come with a sob, the sensation paralysing you for one long moment as pleasure spreads across your body. It’s gentle and slow, like a drawn out shiver running over your skin. 

He keeps stroking as you shake in his arms, stilling only when you relax. 

It's safe as he holds you, contentment bubbling in your chest as he kisses your sweaty temple. You’re quite sure it would truly be heaven just to stay like this with him forever. 

Lightly you scratch your nails across his beard and he chuckles, moving back and kissing your cheek. 

“I think…” he pauses, biting back a cheeky smile. “You have one more in you, yes?” 

You can’t help but giggle at his expression, it’s playful but soft. Inviting your rejection if that is what you wish to give him. 

“Yes, your Highness.” You stroke his neck, playing with the curls that brush against his nape. 

He groans, squeezing your thigh as he kisses you messily. “You could get me to do anything you wanted by calling me that.” 

“Could I?” You grin. 

He nods. “I mean it, absolutely anything.” He kisses you again, softer and slower. But there’s pent up heat simmering underneath, threatening to break through at any given moment. 

“I would give you anything.” You whisper as he sucks a love bite against your pulse point.

“You already have, my love.” He trails his lips lower, littering your chest with kisses before he laps at your nipples and moans in satisfaction as they pebble under his tongue. 

His cock pulses in you, practically in time with the beating of his heart. He can’t help but rock slightly, just to take the edge off as he lavishes your chest with attention. 

You moan as you cling onto him, moving your hips in a slow figure eight, deepening the shallow movements he’s making. 

He gasps loudly, breaking the seal his lips have on your skin to let out the most sinful noises. 

You can’t help yourself, you lean back a fraction so that you can watch him. Sliding one hand up his chest, you tilt his chin towards you, making him bare his neck. 

He whines beautifully, gasping and bucking weakly, trying to hold himself back. You graze your teeth up his neck and he rewards you with a whimper, his air catching in his throat. His fingers squeeze your skin.

“You’re going to make me come if you keep doing that, my love,” he swallows his voice practically pleading. And you repeat the movement.

He groans loudly, the sound going straight to your core as you start to move more fiercely, more frantically. 

A ball of tension is tightening in your belly, demanding control over your actions as pleasure spikes along your veins. 

The King gasps, his balls drawing up. He presses his hand between your bodies and rubs your clit until you’re lightheaded and on the very edge. 

He kisses you messily, warm and wet as he moves with you, pushing you closer and closer until you tense. 

You swear, moaning in his embrace as your second orgasm washes over you. It keeps you in place as he thrusts up into you eagerly, his cries of pleasure harmonising with your own. 

“God- my love,” He whines, swallowing down air as he quickly grabs your hips. “I’m sorry, I can’t-” He just manages to get enough space between your bodies to pull his cock out of you before he comes, spurting hot and thick over both of your stomachs. He groans loudly, pulling you closer so that he can smear his spend against yours and his skin. 

Part of you laments it, in that moment. Selfishly wanting him to come in you. At least then you could pretend when Hugo… you could pretend your first child was the King’s instead. 

The King hugs you fiercely, kissing your neck and soothing your tired and aching muscles. He coaxes you into laying down on your back while he wipes you both clean and then buries his face between your legs, making you shiver and shake and come one more time against his tongue. 

He laments having to leave for the after ball breakfast, pouting a little until you giggle and playfully push his face away. 

You help him to dress, kissing his cheeks when he tries to pull you into a more passionate embrace.

“You’ll be late, your Highness.”

“A King can’t be late.” He grins and you snort. 

“Still.” 

He hugs you closer, “Will you check on Guinevere for me?” He asks softly. The request surprises you a little, surely the King’s servants were taking good care of one of his treasured horses. But you nod, touched by the ask.

“Of course.”

“You are too good to me.” He kisses you again, and helps you to dress in the clothes you were wearing the night before. He keeps your hand in his as you leave his rooms until you have to part, he heads to the right, while you to the left. 

You push all other thoughts out of your mind. Let them stay at the edge, knowing that they will haunt you later. 

You’re barely at the stables, when the King’s head servant, Wymare, approaches you. It is strange to see him far from the King’s side. He bows formally, which only further confuses you, “Your help is needed in the dining hall.” 

“Oh, I… Yes, of course.” 

You follow him quickly as he escorts you, not giving you a second to think or explain where you were headed. You would check on Guinevere the moment you were finished. 

He doesn’t lead you to the kitchen, as you expect, or even to the servants' entrance. Instead down a corridor you haven’t been before, and stops before a side door. 

At first, it reminds you of the King’s personal entrance, but you must be mistaken. 

“Here,” He opens an ornate side cupboard, in the weak light you can’t fully see what he is getting out. He places it around your shoulders, guiding your arms through. It’s a long, sleeveless waistcoat. He moves so quickly you don’t even get a chance to inspect it and assume it is some sort of formal hall attire all the servants are expected to wear. 

He gives you a quick smile and another bow. “My lady.” 

You pause, shocked. But don’t even have time to question him before he opens the door and lightly pushes you out. 

The entire hall is watching you as you come out of the King’s private entrance. They are seated along the long table, the King at the head and closest to you. 

For a second you catch Hugo’s gaze, he is sitting with his mother about halfway down the table. He gives you a quizzical expression and you quickly look away. Though, their position halfway down the table must sting a little. Before he and his mother had been seated much, much closer to the King, closer to his favour. 

“Ah,” the King grins at you, the expression blinding as he stands, forcing all the nobles to quickly abandon their food and scrabble to their feet. “There you are, my beloved.” He holds out his hand to you and quirks an eyebrow. An undeniably cheeky expression plastered all over his face. 

Thank you for reading!

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[yeyinde]

no one respects the art of cock-warming quite like Price.

18+ | cock warming. exhibitionism.

he loves having his lil sub (whether you want to be or not) kneeling at his feet, his cock stuffed down your throat while he works, alternating between holding a cigar in his hand or a pen. the other on the back of your head, keeping you still. cradled his lap where you belong.

and he'd spend ages training you up for it, too.

starts by makingyou sit in his lap, letting you mewl and whine and pant in his ear about the stretch, the need. wanting him to just fuck you already and get it over with. but he's patient. let's you acclimate slowly until all he has to do is pat his thigh and you're already shoving your panties to the side, sliding down his thick girth as he turns on some movie you'd been chirping about wanting to see. squirming around for a moment until you find your spot before melting into his chest, breathing around the stretch. because at some point, having him inside of you, stuffing you full—cock, mouth, ass—comes as naturally as breathing, anyway.

but if you think this is a private endeavor only, well. you'd be wrong.

it starts small. his fingers inside of you when you're out at a restaurant with Laswell and her wife (who seems to sharing your expression; Kate's hand disappearing below the table), just sitting. teasing. he's not trying to get you off. it's just training. new horizons, love, he says, and it's just so easy to get swept up into the maelstrom of his desire, isn't it?

a movie after. it's boring. you hate it. so, he unzips his trousers and offers himself to you instead. let's you thumb through your feed (phone on silent, brightness down to zero) in the back of the theatre as you lounge across the chairs in the empty room, his cock down your throat.

an opera. sitting on his lap with him inside of you, dress covering the indecent act as he shoves your panties to the side (only worn in case he finishes—can't have his cum dripping down your thigh when you go out to eat, can you?) and sinks in deep with a little groan muffled into your neck.

soon, he'll refuse to let you sit anywhere that isn't his lap. on his cock. you almost get caught a few times (and maybe you do) but John's influence is all-consuming and no one bats an eye when he starts to bounce you on his lap in an empty restaurant, hand curled over your mouth to keep any noise that spills out just for him. only for him.

if you think falling asleep without him inside of you is an option, then you should have thought about that before moving in because after he fucks you, he'll cradle you close, ignoring any protests about cleaning up. feigns sleep until you huff, giving in.

(you sleep better when he's inside of you, anyway.)

he's just utterly insatiable—and smitten, really—and it doesn't even feel much like training or conditioning when (he rings the dinner bell and) your mouth starts to water as he sits down, thighs spread wide enough for you slip between. nursing his cock the same way he carts his fingers across your nape, cradling the whiskey in his hand. staring down at you with a deep, ravenous hunger as you sigh around the thick of him, and rest your head on his lap.

(a bell echoes in your ear, but it's easy to ignore it because he was right, after all. this is where you belong.)

[enigmaris]

Ive written like 20k words for my two dpxdc ideas but of course my mind is giving more ideas:

Ghost King!Danny gets summoned one time by a cult and is like 'absolutely not'. He is already barely scraping by in highschool with all of his ghost fights, if he can be magically yoinked at any time he can kiss graduation goodbye.

He asks his ghost friends and one of them tells him he will need a human magic user to create a ward for him, since its human magic thats summoning him the protection should come from the same source.

Now where to find a magic user that can

1) make a protective ward for a half ghost/ half tired teen

2) will do that when Danny has about 3 dollars in his piggy bank

Danny through whatever means are the funniest discovers the soul tax evading John Constatine and has an idea!

A few days later John finds out his soul has been bought by the high king of the infinite realms, who last he checked, was a homocidal maniac.

This isnt going to end well.

[emacrow]

The Justice League hasn't heard from John in four months. It was Zatanna who got concerned first when his phone was disconnected.

Batman found out that he died saving an important little girl named ellie from a group of drug trafficker using her as a battery. How paled zatanna was said about the girl and John's deceased body disappeared in a green portal afterward, telling him what level of apocalypse could have accurate if she had died.

Zatanna Investigating the house of mysteries was the next plan of action, considering only Zatanna and Deadman knew that house was claimed by John with an amount of cursed items, books, and every other apocalypse related items.

Zatanna was only going to place seals upon and inside the house, so nobody would attempt to enter ever, except the house wouldn't let her open the front door.

Her blood felt ice cold as she kept trying to pull the door open, but no budge.

That was where she brought the Justice league in, thinking only someone sinister and patience enough placed a claim on the house after John died because if they did.

This was a code blood moon to them. This could be the universe ending on the other side if whoever had control in the house has every cursed item, weapons, and apocalypse making ritual books imaginable that John had collected over the years.

Before J'onn could slip intangible through the house, the door opened to reveal.... Ellie?

The girl who disappeared, wearing a red beanie and a bright smile.

"Oh good, John said you all would probably come here like headless chickens. Come in!" Ellie said, leaving the door open as she floated back inside.

The Justice League and zatanna look dumbfounded before J'onn, the brave soul went in first, saying that he felt no threat.

The house of mysteries seems to have a new type of decoration done, though still very creepy. Safety baby locks, anti plug in, and a bunch of ghost related toddler toys lay around.

A very massive in height man wearing a gravity defying cloak full of stars, hair whiter then snow with constellations braids with the stars themselves sat in the couch that was obviously too much for his massive form.

A squealing little toddler wearing a soft orange jumper with purple hair giggling loudly every time he smack his tiny hands hard onto a board with a bunch of green blob in 9 holes popping out randomly like some ghost theme whack a mole.

Zatanna glanced, looking down at the little boy and then back at the familiar massive tower entity smiling softly, his stardust freckles luminous glowing green with the frozen frost crown with nebula emblems inside floating innocently on his head as her eyes widen a bit.

"Zatanna, who is this guy?" Superman said, concerned in the back. The Justice League didn't know where to go defensive mode or stand down as there was a child present.

She bowed on her knees immediately on the ground, her eyes teary up with a sense of relief.

"I greet thy infinite Realm, Danny Phan-"

"Zatanna, I told you four times in a role. It's not worth repeating my whole titles. You can call me Danny, and no, i didn't win John's soul... I merely adopted him." Danny waves his hands lightly, miniature dwarf star float around lightly before reabsorbed back in his palm.

"It took me 5 years of planning with clockwork and ellie after John helped my realms from the GIW and their plan to make my people into non-living, and living batteries, even though the Justice League had help along with disbanding them. He grew onto me and my family, and seeing what would've become his cheese grated soul after he died was a big no-no in my book." Danny said softly, Ellie popping behind from his mass of white hair.

"I helped, even though now I'm a bit younger than I am now after that whole pretend to get captured by amateur traffickers, but I'd owed constantine for that prank idea for Dan."

The Justice League awkwardly sat on the opposite couch that suddenly appeared, zatanna sitting on the floor a few feet away from John, still playing on a ghost themed whack a mole board.

"Why is John acting like this?" Zatanna asked softly, pulling a handkerchief from her pocket to wipe her moisten eyes.

"Well, with the combination added years of his much overdue life, by cheating, swindling and dealing with the Supernatural, Gods, faes, and demons alongside the amount of pushed down trauma and PTSD John accumulated in his barely to be call a soul piece after dying in a perfect way for ectoplasm to fixed all of that to made him into a halfa." Danny continues to explain softly.

"His halfa core couldn't handle the weight of it all his soul pieces put together again, especially with his main soul piece being the size of broken miniature ball even after the others entities figured out I claimed and relinquished their contracts because they know I outrank them all, but John's core couldn't handle being put together all at once like that, especially how long he was with barely much of his soul left in the end once he died."

"In a simple way, all His memories, skills and everything in each soul pieces that was taken in between like a giant block of cheese being forced into a tiny mash sieve that was his current mind and body state right now, what Frostbite explain to me." Danny explained simpler with conjuring a solid glob of ectoplasm in his left hand, being pushed in a mold of mini sieve, barely any being pushed out except a couple of glowing liquid dripping.

"John is still the same John, only at where he was his safest mind state before all those deals, trauma, and everything that resulted into what he was, then that slowly returns with time. Only he is free now." Danny finished softly smiling, watching John ripe out a oooing blob ghost from the board with a gleeful squeal, smacking it on the board with delight, his tiny legs kicking in excitement.

Part 1 here <- part 3 -> here

[a2remedy]

DPXDC Prompt# 3: It’s on Fright

Summoning has never been off the table. In fact Danny welcomes it.

At least after the first 50 he did.

Now it’s just getting repetitive. Destroy the world, end this specific race, person, sexuality. He’s really heard it all and it honestly sucks. He’s a protective spirit damn it!

Look at all the high and mighty people and cultists that would call on him for their mortal issues? It's even more annoying to listen to the whiney people who think they're entitled to his power or his time.

So he did what he should've done this whole time. If ghosts are strong enough emotional echoes, why shouldn't it be the same way? He establishes a connection between his summoning circle. If the caster's intent when casting the spell is for anything other than protecting life, its free game. Que the registration of numerous ghost to send an echo of themself to fuck with the people who thought they could fuck with the king. Of course, there are rules. You're only there for a short window. No killing is permitted unless a caster is hostile and a threat to ghosts. Ensure the safety and good health of human sacrifices. Blah,blah, blah. But most importantly, make them regret ever casting the spell in the first place. Upon numerous heroes failing to stop the summoning in time, there's a vast amount of random shit that happens further proves to not fuck with the realms. Batman can only hear the nostalgic music before witnessing the lead cultist that nabbed Jason get hit by an ice cream truck driven by a muscular man and little girl in uniforms. Tim and could agree that their soft serve was the best they ever had. Hal comes onto the cultists being forced into a tea party and learning their table manners from a blue dragon in a gorgeous dress and tiara. Flash comes up to Shazam and a lanky grey figure with glasses discussing Justice League fanfiction while the cultists have to cosplay the members and live out their found family dreams. Spectra is having the time of her life honestly. Talking things out with depressed kids to work through those feelings or being allowed to pay a certain clown a visit time and time again for her good work along with, spooking frats and sororities.

Superman has been quick to react to cultists after a little demon of a girl promised to return if he wasn't treating his clone better to not repeat the beatdown that was personally recorded and handed to Lex to make if he agreed to make merch from it. Most summon sites are Jumpscare Central or a straight up scrap. It's also a wonderful chance for Spectra to give the bats what they fear most. THERAPY!!! Under Jasmine's supervision, of course. JLD has heard the outcries of the JL and still keeps their good standing with the king to themselves. Especially that said king is over every Friday with treats and gifts from throughout the ages. He's fallen for the blonde warlock that has always been able to reliably call on him because he only does it when ABSOLUTELY NECESSARY! Danny found it odd that the only person who could call him now was a sad Brit in a trenchcoat but a conversation or two had them see that they were more often than not on the same wavelength. Sick of their duty, in need of a drink, and helping the world to the best of their ability. John is just so human and reminds him of how he is too. That soon applies to Zatanna too, who's distraught from leading. Besides, what happens in the House of Mysteries stays in the House of Mysteries.

[ew-selfish-art]

DPx DC AU: Danny learns that he can change his summoning ritual and decides to go chaos mode with it i.e. A viral tiktok trend.

Danny ascends the throne and it's honestly pretty alright as far as new jobs go. He states a few opinions, makes sure no one goes to war and is slowly integrating a community service sentence to Walker's prison. It's not a bad gig, and considering the troves of gold he's now owner of, it doesn't pay too shabby either.

His main problem with the job isn't even his constituents (he likes to think they would vote for him over pariah), it's all these loony death cults! They keep summoning him with Pariah's old cold sign and it's driving him insane- After a very unhelpful smirk by CW, a long study session in GW's library and some help from Ember (she knows drama like no one else) Danny finally has a new summoning ritual.

Of course he swapped out the blood and bone for like, sour gummies and random shit he had in his backpack at the time. A TI-84. And yes, the Latin chant is that one super-fast bit of Rap God preformed to a BTS dance at speed.

But rather than keep this to himself, he gets Sam (who has a thriving plant and protest community following) to record her completing this ritual and Danny being summoned. Why? Cause it was a very specific to Sam skill that they didn't know if people could replicate and it gives Danny some plausible deniability that he tried to make it difficult when CW asks.

Posting it makes it very quickly go viral as people attempt to call it fraudulent but sure enough, Danny is now traveling the world at a moments notice.

Which is great cause it's summer and he's bored in Amity anyway (He's going to change it before he starts university in September, duh), and its even better because the second a lame ass death cult brings him forward to, like, destroy the planet, a slumber party or influencer has already summoned him away. Shit, he even met a few celebrities this way! Plus, turns out that most death cultists aren't able to rap!

Reality hit him pretty hard when he got summoned to an office space that is clearly a base of operations and the summoning spell locked him in. Literally, he has no idea how to get out of this binding spell- Danny definitely hadn't realized that was an option. Taking in the Justice League members in front of him, plus one trench coated menace, Danny groaned for a moment before thinking to ask:

"Wait- Which one of you was able to do Rap God? And the dance? Please tell me someone thought to film that!!"

[vwoop-prince]

YJ S3 Dick, still in the midst of his fever dream, hides underneath the 'souvenir' instead of behind some boxes, and accidentally opens the airlock trying to take care of the Parademons. The others get it to close... but not before Nightwing is thrown into space.

There, he stares at the ship holding his friends and mentors. There, he wishes more than anything that he can, somehow, survive. There, he tries to live, if only so his family don't have to bury him like Jason.

There, Nightwing dies, wanting to save everyone, even with the cold seeping into his bones far too quickly for a regular section of space.

Then, Dick opens his eyes to... Earth? There's a little house, and grass, and trees, but there's a bubble of green over it all. Outside of that green was an entire castle, one that looked like it should have far more support beams than it does for even a hope that it stays standing.

And the sky was swirling shades of that same green. It makes him think of Lazarus.

"Well, that's something you don't see every day." He whips his head behind him, a bit too fast for Earth's atmosphere, but it doesn't hurt him. Past the bubble of green was a blue-skinned adult in purple robes, the insides of a grandfather-clock fitted inside their torso, and a black staff with a stopwatch on its top. Beside them was a man with snow white hair, glowing green eyes, a crown of frozen fire dancing above his head, and the most galaxy-like cloak Dick's ever seen clasped to his shoulders. He's wearing... a hazmat suit? Maybe? The twinkling stars and odd lighting of wherever he is were giving him a bit of a headache.

But in front of those two, within this bubble, was...

"DICK!" Wally shouted with unrestrained glee, a blur overtaking his spot for barely a heartbeat before Dick's stuck in a crushing hug that he reciprocates once his brain stops feeling like its melting.

He doesn't know how long it took for them to calm down, but the man with the crown spoke up after a time, as Wally was still wiping their faces free of tears. "Welcome to the Infinite Realms, Nightwing." Dick barely even registered that he was still wearing his suit, but now it felt suffocating. "I suppose you're the one Clockwork was holding out for; There shouldn't've been enough Ectoplasm around you to form a Ghost, and your physical body's still in space. I can see why you like this one, though, Clockie," he states flippantly, turning to his companion. Almost like he didn't expect Dick to pay too close attention to what he was saying.

"Either way, there's two options for you." The man didn't let Dick swallow his tears and question anything. Dick's not sure if he's grateful or not. "First: Stay in the Realms permanently. You'll see Kid Flash whenever you want and learn to be a Ghost with the denizens of the Realms. Maybe find your parents."

"But..." Dick pulls away from Wally, keeping him at arms length, eyes flitting between them. The two outside the bubble were distinctly... ghost-like, so the mentions of 'Ghosts' make sense. But Wally looked... alive. A bit pale, a bit thin... but alive. Dick can't see any of his own skin to see if it was blue or tinted that way, but the Nightwing symbol on his chest kept flickering between its own blue and this 'Realms' green. "But--What about the others? What about you? Why can't you come home?" The last two, he focuses on Wally, because now he can feel a heartbeat beneath his gloves. Wally's alive. He's alive.

His friend just shrugs. "Something about their portals not fit for the living? I'm meant to wait for someone to figure out a permanent portal, but they won't tell me how long that'll take." Wally glares at the... 'Ghosts'? There was a heat to it, but it also seemed like this was a well-worn argument.

"The permanent portal was always an 'if', Wallace West. And that is entirely dependent on if Richard Grayson takes the second option," the clock Ghost--Clockwork?--speaks up. But instead of the adult Dick was expecting, there was an elderly Ghost in their place. Still with the time motif. Was that... more literal than Dick took it?

"Yes, the second option..." The crowned man glares daggers at Clockwork. The temperature dips below comfortable. Dick tries to blink the spaceship and stars out of his sight, withdrawing his arms from Wally to try and warm himself. Tries to remember he's not in space. "The second option is that you return to your body... changed. You'll be able to protect Earth better, stay with your alive family, save the Lost Ones... for a price."

Dick doesn't know if he should ignore the plural in 'Lost Ones'. He doesn't know if he's reading too much into how, in this Realm, apparently only his parents were able to be found. Where's Jason? He doesn't dare hope, but...

"What's the price?"

The man smiles and a ring of blue forms around his waist. It splits in two and travels up and down his body, replacing the cloak and whatever clothes he was actually wearing with a NASA shirt, worn jeans, and red sneakers actually duct taped together. The blue tint to his otherwise tan skin fades completely. His hair turns black. His eyes turn blue.

He was like a taller, slightly slimmer, way hotter version of Bruce.

The man walks through the bubble, but doesn't disturb the grass beneath his feet. "You become the Ghost King's vassal." Dick flinches away and almost hides behind Wally. "Not my idea! But, well... it is either this, or your permanent death."

"What does becoming a vassal do to him?" Wally asks, gently trying to stop Dick from breaking his ribs with how tightly he was hugging himself. Does he even have ribs?

"He gains my powers. Ice, electricity, invisibility, intangibility, flight... He becomes a Halfa. He becomes what I was, in life. Just... needing to make offerings to me, now and then. Something like that, at least. I give him powers, he gives me a chunk of, I don't know, chocolate once a week. Like a warlock."

Wally keeps talking to the man, keeps getting information that he knows he should pay attention to, but something in his chest screams to accept this deal, and he can't focus on anything else.

Nightwing can protect. He can return to life and go back to Blüdhaven, be the Vigilante they need. He can visit Gotham every now and then, help with cases and stop criminals from harming others. He can see his brother. He can see his friends. He can eat Alfred's cookies, and have little get-togethers with Babs and the Team--hell, he can argue with Bruce.

And all he has to do is... give an offering to this guy? The Ghost King? Every once in a while?

"There's no other price?" The King turns his attention to Dick. His eyes had shifted to a blue-green that almost hypnotize him. The green swirls, the blue forms and melts like snowflakes, and he can't look away.

He takes another step forward and Wally steps to the side. There was familiarity between them. Wally deferred to him. Dick can't quite tell why. Though, with how Wally hasn't once looked at Clockwork, maybe it's because he's... grounded? Are all speedsters in trouble with, what, the Ghost of Time? That... actually makes perfect sense.

"I'll be honest, Nightwing: You've impressed me." The weight behind the King's words lifts the ones that've been on his shoulders since he was nine. "You remind me of myself. Maybe, if I wasn't a Halfa... If I had a mentor... I could've been like you.

"Despite Clockwork's insistence over the years that I get back in touch with the living, I've held off. When he eventually suggested that I help create another Halfa, I locked him in his tower for twenty years. I didn't want anyone to go through what I had. But, now... I see that you won't. You can't. Even if you hide this deal--our shared powers... You'll still have people by your side. Strong people. Smart people. You can already handle yourself. And I'd love to see what you can do--who you can save--with my help."

There was maybe two inches between their faces when the King finishes speaking. Dick roves his eyes across the other's face, trying to find the common and familiar ticks that show lies and deceit and manipulation. All he finds is sincerity and genuine care.

Wally plays with his fingers from the corner of his eye, gaze hopeful as he looks between the two of them. Wally, who was alive and breathing and able to leave if he accepts. Eventually. Somehow.

Dick Grayson sends a quiet apology to his parents and hopes they will forgive him for being a little bit selfish.

"I accept."

He flings his eyes open. Above him, domino mask too wobbly to be properly secured anymore, was Robin crying and begging him to wake up. His hands were sloppily placed over his heart. Batman was trying to drag him away, the firm set of his jaw screaming grief.

Nightwing gasps once he registers his lungs burning.

There's a large cacophony of noise, multiple bright suits and people hounding over him, and the distinct artificial taste of slightly-too-much oxygen that the ship with the Parademons had. That he flew out of and died. He was still too cold.

Someone moves their arm beneath his knees and shoulder and Dick passes out.

(Dick 'Nightwing' Grayson dies in space. Ghost King Danny Phantom likes this too-human Hero. They split their souls in half, take one piece of the others, and all they know is that Phantom is now Nightwing's Patron Deity. Danny uses ice, for electricity killed him. Dick uses electricity, for ice killed him. They are opposites, and yet so incredibly similar. Clockwork was looking forward to when Danny starts putting off his paperwork to hang out with his new 'friend'.)

[wonderlanddreamer]

Reader POV Masterlist

Main Lydia Masterlist

Edits, Drabbles & More

Multi-Chapter Fics.

Queen Of Kings - Nellie Ensor never expected to return to Small Heath, but fate had other plans. After her father's brutal murder at the hands of a ruthless gang, Nellie inherits the family business—a prize many would kill for. Torn between selling it off for safety and honouring her father's legacy, Nellie decides to stand her ground. Navigating a world steeped in danger, she finds herself entangled with the notorious Peaky Blinders. As threats loom and loyalties are tested, Nellie must find courage to protect her father's dream and carve out a place for herself in a world where survival is never guaranteed. In the heart of Birmingham, amidst the smoke and shadows, a legacy is about to be reborn.

Behind Enemy Lines - Fearless journalist Florence Fletcher is on a mission to expose the Peaky Blinders, but her relentless pursuit pits her against the dangerous and captivating John Shelby. When a greater threat looms, they must join forces, turning enemies into uneasy allies. Amidst the chaos and intrigue, sparks fly and forbidden passion ignites. Can they survive the shadows of Birmingham's underworld and find love, or will their secrets destroy them?

Blurred Lines - Florence Fletcher has always been a thorn in John Shelby's side, but when he finds her drunk and vulnerable on a night out, his protective instincts take over. As he steps in to help her, the hard edges of their contentious relationship start to blur, uncovering unexpected depths and hidden feelings.

[A modern spin-off of Behind Enemy Lines]

The Rook - Seeking refuge from his turbulent life, Tommy Shelby finds solace in The Rook, a quiet pub on Birmingham's outskirts. There, he meets Rosemary King, a barmaid whose sunny disposition offers him an unexpected sanctuary. Her kindness and warmth begin to thaw his hardened heart, creating a bond that takes the gangster by surprise. But peace is short-lived when Tommy's enemies track him to his hidden refuge, putting both The Rook and Rosemary in jeopardy. As danger looms, they must navigate the threats together, testing the strength of their growing connection. Can Tommy protect his newfound sanctuary, or will his criminal life shatter the fragile peace he's found?

[elysianightsss]

La da de da viking Price for the win🛡️🌺

Your heavy snow boots trudged through the thick mounds of pure white snow, the freezing breeze was pinching and nipping at your cheeks. The cold had began to hurt your nose as you breathed, the back of your throat dry. Trying your hardest to keep warm, you shove your chin and mouth further into the top of your coat and breathe out hot air.

You only wanted to hunt for food and go back home, but seeing as you couldn’t find any animals near your little cabin, you had to venture elsewhere for the hunt. Something you annoyingly regretted the further away from home you got.

An exaggerated sigh left you for the twentieth time today as you knelt down on the ground feeling the snow start to soak into the material of your trousers. Pulling your bow off of your body and an arrow from the quiver that was strapped to your back. You drew back the string of your bow, holding the arrow steadily in place.

Closing your eyes, you waited. Listening oh so carefully, for anything. The sound of any animal to make itself known to you. A while passed, all you could hear was the soft wind and a nearby steam trickling quietly.

Until the snort of a deer had your eyes shooting open and your weapon aiming at the creature. Exhaling slowly, you let go, the arrow whipping through the air heading straight for the unknowing animal but ultimately hitting a different target. A huge gasp left you as you watched the arrow go straight into the chest of a man, the deer snorted before running off.

You grunted annoyed and dropped everything to run to the injured man. Your eyes set upon his figure. Large and strong, you recon if you’d hit anywhere else on him that’d he probably wouldn’t have collapsed. Probably would have grabbed the end of the arrow with his big sturdy hands and pulled it straight out like nothing happened. Probably.

The realisation started to set in the more you stared at him, you just shot a man. “Oh my, I’m…I’m so sorry!” You panicked falling to your knees next to him where he was on the ground. His blue eyes meeting yours, looking at you as though you were an alien. His nostrils flared as he quietly grunted, feeling the pain begin to spread throughout his chest and body.

“I was hunting and….and you…y-you stepped in front of the deer. I’m so sorry.” Your hands hovers over his injured while your mind began to become frantic with how to proceed. You eyed the expensive leather that graced his bulky figure. Wrapping around every muscle eagerly. The fur cloak that was spread around him, clearly from a hunt.

It did little to hide the tattoos on his arms. Further up chainmail covered his shoulders proving how sharp you’d made your arrows for it to pierce the chainmail that presumably sat below his tunic and leather. You took note of his face better now, thin lips almost covered by a bushy moustache all connected with thick mutton chops and a full, long beard that caught your attention a little too much.

“Are ya’ done ogling me lass?” He gritted his teeth, wrapping his hand around the arrow and yanking it out. He groaned loudly, deep and rough just like his voice when he spoke. It sent shivers through your body in an unholy way. Nothing like you’d ever felt before.

“Are you a royal from the mainland?” You asked, worry underlining your question.

He bellowed at that, “Ne’er erd’ that one before.” His laugh trailed off as he pressed his fingers into his wound and pulled them away watching the blood drip down his hand.

“My bag.” He was gesturing to the bag that lay a few meters over from where he was. You scrambled to grab it, desperately trying to pull it open. The leather satchel was medium size with about a hundred strings tying it shut.

“W-What do you need?” You were stumbling over your words as you took noticed of the blood that was seeping out of his wound and staining the snow beneath him.

The man grabbed your shaky hands in his and whispered “Breathe.” You listened hesitantly, taking a deep breath.

“Y’know I think I’m supposed to be reassuring you.” A breathless laugh leaving you sounding more like a scoff, he let out a chuckle his face scrunching up in pain.

“In the bag, the bottle with the red liquid.” Nodding quickly, you searched through the bag and pulled out the bottle, pulling the cork out with your teeth and looking at him for instructions. He took the glass container and poured it over his wound and drank the rest of it.

You watched as his heavy panting of pain began to level out. He soon sat up and looked at you curiously, “I’ve ne’er seen ye round these parts before.” He states though you’re pretty sure it was a question, you simply shrug and stand up. He followed suit, a shock jolting through you when he stands only to tower over you greatly.

“I, um really am sorry. It truly was an accident.” You wring your hands together before offering one of them to him. He looks surprised and you don’t blame him, you’re sure a woman has never made this gesture to him before.

“Svo fallegt,” he seemed to look over you for a moment then let his large hand wrap itself around yours with a shake, “S’okay.”You nodded letting go of his grip and making your way to pick up your bow and quiver.

“What’s ya name?” He asked suddenly feeling a wave of panic as he watched you walking away from him. You answered, waiting for his in return. “Price. John Price.”

Now where had you heard that name before?

[madds-is-ace-trash]

Nightwing why are you warring a cape? Well for the baby of course! Dcxdp

This takes place in the same universe as my fic Mother of the storm and her star child.

A few years have passed and Danny is completely settled in and moved to bulhaven with dick. Eventually around the time he’s Turing 9 he insists that he wants to go out at night with dick. Dick is hesitant but Danny insist, pointing out how his abilities would make him the perfect recon detective. Dick can no longer argue when Danny beats both Damian and Cass the first day of training and he is out out in the field.

Danny hose out in his ghost form and picks the name phantom because it feels right and now nightwing patrols with a bird if his very own for the first time in a while. Danny is very good on patrols, he sticks close to dick often clinging to him and hiding behind him when dick is interacting with people. He’ll often turn invisible but it still doesn’t fell like enough to dick. He quickly released that he missed the cape and the layer of securing it added when Damien was his Robin.

So nightwing starts wearing a cape, and the people of his city starts coming up with all sorts of theories for the sudden change. The range from him practicing because he’s taking over the cowl to him hiding new gadgets. Very few have seen Danny and those who have are often not believed because, “nightwing had glowing eyes under his cape!” Is not very believable.

He doesn’t wear the cape all the time just when he has Danny, the cape is long the outside is black but the inside has a blue and black feather design so it looks like wings when he glides. It has a feature where it retracts in to a role on his back when he need more freedom of movement. And I’m addition to the cape he now has an extra loop hanging form his belt for Danny to grab on to as the hop rooftops. (Danny can will him self to weigh nothing so dick tends to pull him along as he floats any way)

As the news of dicks sudden costume adjustment is circulating he has to come to the watchtower with B for a mission. Danny tags along hiding in his cape like all the Robin had before him with Bruce. Meanwhile Bruce is totally not going all mushy over his grandson he is totally normal about this. All of the Leagers keep giving dick looks.

Until flash finally ask

Wally: so um nightwing what’s with the cape? I thought you hated them?

Dick*with a bright smile across his face*: it’s for my shadow!

Wally: your shadow? How is a cape ganna hide your shadow.

Dick: no not my actual shadow it’s to hide my bird.

Diana: your bird?

*Dick flares one side of the cape revealing the feathered pattern underneath but nothing else is visible hidden under the cape*

Wally: I don’t se-

Dick: whistles like a bird call

Danny slowly fading in to view giving the league a small wave as he scrambles to hide behind dicks legs: Hello

Hal: really Bruce another one!?

Dick Smiling at the small boy in his cape before closing it : nope this one’s all mine!

Meanwhile John Constantine who is present for this mission is freaked the fuck out. Because that kid with the flowing white hair and glowing freckles is definitely not human. And worse than that from what he can sense it’s pretty darn powerful to. He watches as all of his coworkers are working to get the boy out from hiding cooing over him.

Clark: he’s looking a lot better nightwing

Wally: Waite you already new about him?

Clark: yes the boy is nightwings child I’m guessing he only is just now joining the team

Diana: what’s your name little one?

Danny poking his head out of the cape: phantom my name is phantom

Fuck why was that name familiar? Oh shit that’s right John had heard rumors of the new ghost king and a prince milling around the infinite realms this must be the little ghost prince. How the fuck did dick end up with him? Waite sups said that was dicks kid, hold did dick?

John: ha Oh my god! You crazy fucker you fucked the ghosts king!

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Blue Blood and Rain [4]

King John X F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals • Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • buy me a coffee? •

Summary: You're the personal attendant to The Dowager Countess of Bowhale, who was visiting the court with her son.

The King invites you on another ride, this one is much more private.

Series Masterlist

A/N: I'm trying to get my butt in gear and actually finish up some series.

Warnings: Kissing, oral sex (f!receiving), hand job, public sex (they're outside but not observed), reader is a virgin, overuse of italics, power dynamics because he's the king, pet names, I have totally made up servant/noble dynamics because I wanted to, not beta read, please let me know if I've missed a warning.

Word Count: 1617

Stefan whinnies softly as you move about the stable, despite being freshly brushed and being just served clean water and hay he still wasn’t satisfied until he had your undying attention. 

You tut playfully at him, stopping in your work to pat his side. “What is wrong, hmm? I thought you’d like a break away from Hugo’s less than perfect riding.” You smile and lean closer to the horse, a little conspiratory. “But don’t tell him I said that.” 

He whinnies again, almost sounding like a laugh. 

You stroke his neck absentmindedly. “You get to have nice food, in this nice stable and then go outside and pester all the other horses in the fields all day. Sounds perfect.” 

“Does it?” The King’s voice nearly makes you jump out of your skin. He grins, pretending to look ashamed for a moment, his hands open. “I’m sorry to startle you.”

“No, you’re not.” You give him a playful look.

“You’re right,” he steps closer to you, lightly touching your arm. “I’m not.” 

You shake your head, pretending to be insulted. “I am outraged.”

“Outraged by the actions of your King?” He grins. 

“Of course.” 

His beam widens and he kisses your cheek quickly before ensnaring your lips with his and stealing your breath. 

He pulls back the smallest fraction, lightly nuzzling his nose against yours, “What about now?” His voice is soft and barely above a whisper. 

“Slightly less outraged.” You managed to say.

“Ah, I’m going in the right direction then.” He kisses you again, snaking his hand up to stroke your cheek. 

Stefan nudges King John’s shoulder gently and he turns to smile at the horse. “Someone seems to be warming to my presence.” He pats Stefan, much to his delight. 

You smile at Stefan, “He’s a good judge of character.” 

The King uses your brief distraction to kiss your cheek again. “I see that the Earl and the Countess are busy this afternoon.” 

You turn to look at him, amused at his choice of using their formal titles. “They are.” 

“So, you are free?” 

You shake your head, “I have many duties to attend to that-”

“Duties that can be taken care of, come,” he takes your hand in his. “Are you really going to disobey a request from your king?” His expression makes you giggle. “I will take that as a yes.” He lightly kisses the back of your hand as he leads you out. 

.

The King rode Guinevere, while you rode Alaric again. The ride was peaceful, just the two of you taking your time. John rode at your side, happily talking with you and it’s not long until you arrive back at the meadow he had shown you before. 

He stops and dismounts before holding out his hand to help you, happiness radiates out from his chest when you take his hand without pause. 

“The tree you used to read under as a child,” you smile and motion towards it as you admire its thick heavy bark and a wide canopy. 

The King preens, puffing out his chest a little, touched that you remembered. A small dusting of pink highlights his cheeks and he pauses, biting his lip as he has a small inward argument with himself. “I used to do other things under that tree.” 

You pause, giving him a sideways glance and chuckling at the blush on his skin. “Other things?” You tease. 

“Other things.” He lightly puts his hands on your waist and guides you under the leaves, walking you backwards until your shoulders hit the trunk. 

“I simply demand to know these other things.” You bite your lip and he groans. 

“Stop, you can’t be giving me such looks and expect me to behave.” 

“A King would behave.” You put your hand to your forehead dramatically, “Me, here, alone without a chaperone.” 

He chuckles and kisses you softly, pressing his chest up against yours. “I used to…” he pauses, kissing you again quickly. “Pleasure myself here, when I was older than a boy. I liked the quiet better.” He sucks lightly at your neck, smiling as your breath hitches. 

Heat floods your veins, the image of him bringing himself to his peak dancing in your mind and making you dizzy.

“I would read sinful stories,” he kisses along your jaw, biting softly between words, “and then, when I was overcome with thoughts and urges, I couldn’t resist.” 

He groans lightly as you tug on his shoulders, urging him closer. “I would spill myself all over my hand, imagining such debauched things.” He breathes heavily, pushing his thigh between your legs. 

“What debauched things?” You whisper, not trusting your own voice and his fingers flex against your waist. 

“I could,” he swallows, his cock hard and heavy between his legs, pulsing with the rapid beating of his heart. “Show you… if you wish?” 

You hardly finish your first nod before he’s throwing himself to his knees and pulling up your skirts. He bunches them around your hips with a desperate, crazed further. 

“Tell me to stop and I will,” he looks up at you, his skin flushed and eyes dark, “if you are uncomfortable or want me to stop for any reason. Promise me.” 

You nod, once. “I promise, your Highness.” 

He groans lightly as you speak his title, his eyes glazed. Then, lightning fast, he dives forward and tugs your undergarments down your legs. 

You gasp in surprise, the sound quickly becoming a needy moan when his warm tongue licks through your folds. 

He moans low in his throat as he laps and swirls around your clit, salvia and slick coating his chin as he feasts. 

“You taste divine,” he growls, licking his lips as he manages to pull himself away from you for the briefest moment, just enough time to pull your undergarments down and off your legs completely.

He hoists your left thigh onto his shoulder as he continues, eagerly sucking your clit into his mouth and snaking his hands up to hold and squeeze your ass.

Your back arches, tree bark digging in between your shoulder blades as pleasure tightens and pulses dizzyingly quickly. Your body moves of its own volition, your mind completely lost to the soft warmth of his mouth. 

“I…” You moan, your legs shaking from the onslaught. You try to grab onto the trunk for stability, but you can’t get a solid hold. Without thinking you sink your hand into his thick curls, but before you can pull back he whines desperately. He presses his left hand over yours and squeezes, urging you to hold him tighter, firmer as you writhe on his tongue. 

He sucks rhythmically, your cries spurring on every action. The idea of you coming undone and tasting your release makes his eyes roll back. The drawstring fastening on his trousers rubs against his cock, and he can’t help but buck, thrusting into the barely there pressure. 

“Your…” You bite your lip, breathing hard, trying to get some semblance of control over your voice. “Your Highness, I’m… please.” 

He groans loudly when you use his title again, his eyelids fluttering as he pushes his face closer, practically trying to suffocate himself. 

The feeling twists and curls, your muscles tense and shake. You’re sure you can’t get any higher, can’t feel any more pleasure. But each second he proves you more and more a liar. 

Your orgasm crests and blooms along your nerves, tensing your muscles and robbing you of all thought as you are consumed body and soul. 

He groans, watching you intently and eagerly drinking down your release. You writhe under him as he prolongs your bliss, pulling you apart expertly piece by piece. 

As your limbs slack he moves back a fraction, placing your leg back to the floor and taking hold of your arms to guide you down onto the grass. 

You breathe hard, resting against the tree as he kisses your temple. 

“I’m sorry, I can’t, I need to,” he swallows, his hands quickly undoing his trouser fastenings and pulling his aching cock free. It’s leaking and ruddy red, looking painful and desperate as he wraps his right hand around its thick length. 

He fists himself rapidly, angling his body away from you to give you time to recover. 

You swallow, moving closer to him, pressing your chest to his back as the sweat cools on your skin. “Let me help you, your Highness.” 

He groans, nearly coming on the spot. “Here,” his voice is strained and weak as he guides your hand to his cock, wrapping his fingers over yours and showing you how to move in the way he needs. 

You're shocked by how warm he is, how soft, like velvet on a chair by the fire; and how hard, like iron under your palm. 

You barely get to stroke him four times before he’s crying out your name and tensing. His cock pulses, his hips bucking as he comes robe after robe of silky white onto the grass and tree roots. 

It’s mesmerising, how his mouth opens and body shakes, and you can’t help but stare transfixed as he falls apart for you.

When his hand relaxes around yours you let go, smiling as he leans back onto you and grabs your wrists so that he can litter your fingers with kisses. 

“You are addictive,” he murmurs, twisting his body so that he can kiss up your arm. “I nearly came without touching myself with my mouth on you,” he gazes up at you with love sick eyes, his skin flushed. “Better than any saucy book.” 

You giggle and he grins, sliding his hand around your neck and kissing you deeply. 

Thank you for reading!

Taglist 1:

@pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @whatthefishh

@romanarose @strangerhands @steven-grants-world  @blushingrn @to-be-a-sunshine

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[tanglepelt]

Dc x dp idea 29

Danny became ghost king his first order of business was to return artifacts to there rightful owners. These owners included from multiple countries on earth, Amazonians, the sea, tamaran, and so many more. Danny wasn’t planning on running a museum of stolen artifacts anytime soon.

So what if they we’re given as a way to prevent pariah from cutting off passage to the afterlife or from just destroying them. Why would anyone question why they were returned.

Considering no one realizes there had been an exchange of power everyone. Everyone assumes pariah was no longer satisfied. Danny didn’t bother to leave a note or anything.

So now the justice league and others are preparing to summon the king and potentially have to seal him away.

[lustnhim]

' rubberneckin ' — john carpenter x fem! reader

note: requested / warnings: p in v sex, fingering, age-gap, elvis calls reader ‘little one’, breeding kink, very unprofessional doctor carpenter, based on the scene in ‘change of habit’ where that girl is trying to seduce him, prob typos n' grammar issues. / summary: doctor carpenter lets you have your way.

John hesitated before opening the examination room, he already knew who was in there. A pretty young thing that had come every other week complainin’ about every little thing that bothered her. He knew what it was, he had a few patients that were oddly insistent on seeing him- but with you, it was entirely something else. You were infatuated with him, and John found it  the cutest darn thing. Clearing his throat he opened the door. “Well hello again, little un’...”  He draws watching as you immediately correct your posture once he walks in, very visibly perking up. “Hi Doctor!” You coo as he puts on his stethoscope. “What seems to be the issue this week, honey?” he asks, standing in front of you, a coy smirk on his face. “Well, I was walkin’ home from the store n’ I started to feel real dizzy…” You explained, staring into his face. Those pretty blue eyes. Lord, he was gorgeous. “Dizzy huh? Well that’s no good.” He said, putting the stethoscope in his ears before walking closer. “Go on an’ open your blouse a bit, honey.” He says calmly, even if what he says is standard- it always makes your heart skip a bit. Your body shivers when the cool metal presses against your warm skin, his hand resting beside your leg. You can't help but let out a small gasp, the sensation sending a shiver through your body. "Your heartbeat seems a little fast," John remarks, listening for a few more seconds before pulling away and letting the stethoscope hang around his neck. “You drinkin’ enough water? It’s been awfully hot this past week, maybe you’re dehydrated.” He explains, his eyes raking over you. Lord, you don’t do a good job hiding the fact you're infatuated with him, your face is about as red as a tomato. “Well what do I do about that?” You ask, tilting your head to the side, acting dumb. “You drink some water. Plain an’ simple.” He says before taking his hand and placing it on the side of your cheek. “Feelin’ a bit warm too.” He says, moving it up to your forehead before clearing his throat and moving his hand down to rest on your thigh. “Hm, you might actually be sick…” he starts and suddenly you tense. “Oh! Ah, with what doc?” You ask, concern laced in your voice. “I’m afraid I don’t know yet…but I’m thinkin’ it’s something awfully serious.” John sees the concern in your eyes, and he can't help but chuckle. "Don't worry,I'll take good care of you." He says, his hand sliding off your thigh. You let out a low whimper not wanting him to move. "I think you need a thorough examination. " He says, his voice low. You look up at him, concern turning to confusion– a thorough examination? Was…was he serious? “W-what do you mean by that…?” You ask and he chuckles, taking off his jacket and hanging it on the rack. “Well honey, if my suspicions are correct then you need some takin’ care of..” He walks over to the examination table, placing a hand on your chest and moving you to lay down. “Hearts racing again.” He quips, smirking at you. “John…” You whimper and he shushes you. “Now, now- you need ta’ relax. You’re not feelin’ well right?” You nod and John wastes no time, his hands moving to unbutton the rest of your blouse and pulling off your bra. "Just lie back and let me take care of you," he coos, his hands caressing your soft skin. His fingers dance over your nipples making them harden. You moan softly, arching your back to press your chest into his touch. "Look at you, I think this is workin’" he purrs, pinching and rolling your nipples between his fingers.

John's hands continue their exploration, trailing down your body before resting on your hips. You try to lean up from the table but he pushes you right back down. "Ah, ah…Lay down little un’...we ain’t done yet.. We gotta see what's goin' on down here." He murmurs, his fingers toying with the waistband of your skirt- you always wore one when you went to see him. You shiver in anticipation as he pulls it off, revealing your lace panties. "Awe…these just fa’ me?” He teases and you whimper in embarrassment. “M-maybe…” You hear him laugh as he hooks his fingers under the elastic band and pulls your panties down, exposing your most cunt. "Lord have mercy, you're already so wet for me." He whispers, running a finger along your slit. You gasp and squirm beneath his touch, “John…please.” You groan, as he presses his thumb against your clit. John continues to tease you, circling your clit with his thumb and sliding two fingers into your dripping wet cunt. You moan and writhe beneath him, your body aching for more. "You like that, little one?" He asks, his voice husky with desire. "I can tell you do...your body's beggin' for it." He pumps his fingers in and out of you, his thumb continuing to work your sensitive nub. The combination of his skilled touch and dirty talk has you on the edge in no time. Just as you're about to come, he pulls his hand away, leaving you desperate. “You know, you ain’t very secretive honey..” he coos, and you can hear his belt rattling. “Comin’ in here every week in the smallest little skirts, sayin’ how bad you’ve been feelin’...” You dare not lean up, you stay lying down as his hands grip your thighs and spread your legs farther, his body sliding between them. “I know what you need honey…an’ I’m gonna give it to ya.” He climbs onto the table, straddling your hips as he towers over you and you can feel his hard cock pressing against your thigh. Finally you get to see his face, his hair is a mess- like he’d been running his hands through it,  His pretty blue eyes are dark and needy, his lips pouting and his breathing heavy. He practically smashes his face into yours, his lips capturing yours and it doesn't take long before his tongue is halfway down your throat, the two of you kissing like it's your last day on earth. 

Once he pulls away from your mouth a string of salvia still connects your tongues. “Fuck. I’m gonna make ya’ feel so good, little un’.” he says as he adjusts himself, aligning his cock with your entrance. You feel the tip of his hard cock nudging against your soaked entrance, and you can't help but moan in anticipation. “Fuck…c’mon- I need it…" you plead, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him closer. He chuckles, his hot breath tickling your neck as he plants a trail of kisses along your jawline. "You need this, huh? You need me to fill you up and make you feel good," he whispers, his voice a low growl. Without warning, he thrusts his hips forward, burying his cock deep inside your tight, wet heat. The sensation is overwhelming, and you can't help but cry out in pleasure. "Oh, fuck, you're so tight.” John groans, almost like he’s surprised by the fact– his hips start to move in a steady rhythm, driving his cock in and out of your eager body. You cling to him, your nails digging into his shoulders as he pounds into you, the examination table creaking under the force of his thrusts. "That's it, little one," he says, his breath hot against your ear. "Take it all. Feel every inch of my cock filling you up." His words send a shiver down your spine and you can’t help but clamp around him. “Fuck! I-I’m gonna fill you up honey…gonna fuckin’ cum deep inside of you.” He groans. Your body is entirely at his mercy, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist as you urge him on. With each thrust, his pelvis grinds against your sensitive clit, adding to the intense sensations that consume you. Your hands roam over his strong, muscular back, and you can feel the beads of sweat forming as he continues to pound into you.Just when you think it can't possibly get any better, John's hand snakes between your bodies, finding your clit and rubbing it in fast, circular motions. The added stimulation is almost too much to bear, and you can feel your orgasm rapidly approaching."Oh god, I'm getting close," you whimper, your body trembling. "Please don't stop, John. I need it so badly."He groans in response, his hips moving even faster, his cock hitting your sweet spot with every thrust. "Fuck, you needed this so bad didn’t you? Needed to be bread so bad, huh?" he growls, his fingers continuing to work your clit.All you can do is moan in response, your mind completely lost in the throes of passion as he brings you closer and closer to the edge. Your body is on fire, your nerves so sensitive that even the slightest movement sends waves of pleasure coursing through you. "Damn, you're so tight," John praises again, his hips jerking erratically as he grows closer to his own release. "I'm gonna fill you up, little one. You're gonna feel every last drop of my cum inside you." All you can do is nod frantically and moan, it’s like you're drunk off his cock.  John groans, his hips slamming into you one final time as he finds his own release. You can feel his hot, sticky cum spurting deep inside you, filling you up just like he promised. He collapses on top of you, panting heavily as he tries to catch his breath. Once you've both come down from your high, John slowly pulls out of you, his softening cock slipping free from your well-used cunt. You watch as he sits up, gathering his clothes and putting them back on with a satisfied smirk on his face."See, little one? I told ya I'd take good care of you," he says, buttoning up his shirt. You smile up at him, feeling content and sated. "Thank you, Doctor Carpenter. I feel much better now." He chuckles, helping you sit up and handing you your shirt. 

"Glad to hear that, honey. Now, make sure you come see me often, I’d like to keep my eye on you…"

i hope you guys liked this!!! i should write for his characters more often it’s so so much fun :3 also the halloween fic will probably be the next fic to come out since i really want it to be perfect! love y’all <3

taglist: @hooked-on-elvis @atleastpleasetelephone @lola-1013 @indiatuck @eptodaytommorowforever @suspiciousmindsxo @tupelomiss @myradiaz @i-r-i-n-a-a @elvispresley1956 @sisssygirl @your-nanas-house @callieselvisobsessed @eapep @auntbee22 @elvisiana @ladelinee @jhoneybees @elviswhore69 @sissylittlefeather @dontfeedthebigbadwolf @louisejoy86 @cherrycolaride @sloppyzengarden @faeolwen @slayingjd @iloveelvisss @theelvisprincess @fairybloodsucker

[emacrow]

Constantine is noping this situation, you can't make hi-..ah fucking damn it

John was already paled when Kronos got revived, but seeing the eyes scalding blinding Fear of God staring into your very soul and judgment every inch power that was in that godlinng babe was enough for him to started drinking his emergency booze.

He is not dealing with Greek Gods bullshits, especially if that what he puzzling in the pieces together Then Kronos's story was becoming twisted all together. Nope, he isn't. Batman can bribe him all he wants. He is fucking leaving now!!

Fucking with THAT right there especially with the contract he still owed Kronos for, he rather suffered the complete obliteration of his soul being torn to shreds once he dies then have that god find him. He is escaping of here before She even noticed that he is Here with her ol time relic still in his pocket.

Before he can even get one step in the portal ready, he already felt his chest tightening as if his entire chest was being squeezed like a kid's teething toy.

Fucking dammit, he should've left right when Kronos was still having that psychic backlash, he knew he should've trusted his gut, fucking time Goddess and her all knowing of when and where.

Part 6 << >> Offical Quiz that Decision the Fate of this continuing fic >>> Fic Released

[a2remedy]

DPXDC Prompt# 5- War between Warlocks

-A dichotomy I love has always been hard worker vs natural talent, so let's take this running.

Constantine spent the day lying on his couch. A new pack of beer and smokes are beside him while he's watching one of Z's performances while she's off world. A usual partly cloudy in Liverpool.

It was nice....

-Or it would've been nice if he couldn't recall who he saw. Correction, who he thought he saw. Because there was no bloody way that magic-wielding bastard survived. ...

Shut up.

It wasn't real. It couldn't have been real.

But karma was a bitch and it was making itself known.

For once in his life, John's phone was still.

Nobody.

Nobody has reached out to him to exorcise anything for a week and he was slowly losing his shit. Looks like he has to go out and find out for himself. ---

Danny couldn't help but laugh.

That marks his 10th exorcism this week, and he could already see the con man pulling his hair out when he just chose to take a little weight off an old 'friend's' shoulders while he's on his vacation from ghost king business.

He must be pissed.

It couldn't be helped. Danny's natural disposition made magic a breeze. He's one of the most occult things there is, after all. If he can't dodge it all, he might as well embrace it. Who could've guessed it would come with the scruffiest blonde with a fun accent getting on his case? John Constantine. A delight to watch work and in bed. That's all in the past now, anyways. Sometimes, he just needed to take a minute to remind himself that he's human, too. What better way to do than to fuck with the one person he's felt most like that with?

He felt horrible thinking his last moment with John was going to be looking at the desperation and fear written all over his face. No need for that now. The spark of a locator spell flickered off his barrier on the rooftop. He cackled as he heard John's "I BLOODY KNEW IT!" through the streets. The phone in his pocket buzzed again. John really was such a busy man. He ensured the non-teleportation tattoo he made last time hadn't faded before hopping to the next roof and answering. "This is Hex speaking. I've stolen John's phone, but I can assure you I can get the job done ten times easier than he can." Making his way out of a portal on the roof he left, "I can hear you, cheeky bastard!" "That's the point, dipshit!" Danny stuck out his tongue and kept moving. Tsk. Barely 5 minutes to catch up. Looks like he's getting rusty. Oh well, nothing a little refresher and practice can't fix.

Thus began the reunion between a king and a con man.

[zeroheroaero-blog]

Dp x Dc : Card game soul edition

Ok I got an idea for a ghost king Danny au this is inspired by the idea that hell use souls as currency (from that one Ao3 fic I cant remember the title of) and that Danny is now aware that souls are traded use and stuff for forever he really doesn’t like that, but he can’t stabilise the economy of hell, so he now has create something to replace hells currency or change how the soul contract works.

The idea he comes up is simple give soul contracts and expiry date and that expiry date is dependent on what they sold their soul for away for if somebody sold their soul to save their wife, the amount is different from somebody who sort their soul for $1 billion, but the issue of doing this is that a lot demand might be unwilling, and that might be a riot I mean sure Danny could just squash them, but it will be annoying and they could continuously do that a lot, so we have to create a way that the Demons were willing to change to the expiry date.

So that he heard about how the demons where calling John Constantine trading game, and he thought and had an idea he should make it all a game, so contracts would become a cart that reflects the person soul their states would be based on personality, how they die, and what they sold their soul for, and demons could use them to battle and trade also people who sold their soul multiple times would have multiple lesser copy cards that when combine creates a full card and items that belongs to them and can be used with them.

Also there is going to be an infinite realm game shop to buy the souls in exchange for artifacts and sell item cards in exchange for souls or artifacts of the demons.

How the gameplay could work

Every card that is played in the game winner takes all

You could boost a card by sacrificing some of its lifespan

You could unlock a second form of the cards when sacrificing 50% of its current lifespan unlocking unique skills, boasting current skills and double stats

You could sacrifice the card using all the lifespan, for a four times boosts of everything of the cards the unique skills and boosts all cards on play

Certain cards when on the same play boost each other they are mostly people who where connected in life

Certain cards are one time use such as the souls of sacrifice (as specially if they are unwilling), depends on personality, how it affects the board and players

Some mechanics

Personity: affects type, and stats and what items affects them the most and least

Sold soul for what: affects skills and how long must they be a contract before they are free

Death: affects skills, type and stats including weaknesses and immunities, if any

Life achievement: affects stats mainly and skills movement also how often they can use their skills and cooldowns, and special conditions and skills that appears if specific things pertaining to their life happens on play

Items: found either via collecting soul related via if they sold their soul multiple times when combining sometimes there is a item card given, or if bought via the IR Card shop in a blind box manner, cards can also be traded in for special higher powered items

I think Danny after thinking all of this he would 100% go to John to ask for his opinion, cause as much as a headache he is right he is still his soul he’s talking about and John will be like fine as long if it’s not forever and not torture 

So what do you guys think? And what do the gameplay looks like, and what