#free use!ghost

[lxvvie]

I adore those free use Simon asks where he thinks the reader wants to fuck him but they just cuddle him instead. Those are just amazing. Now let me turn the tables: The reader’s lying on the couch, scrolling on their phone when Simon spreads their legs apart and hooks their thighs over his shoulders. The reader thinks he’s going to pull down their joggers next but instead he puts his head on their lower stomach with a big sigh. Unexpected, but not unwelcome. Does he want them to scratch his scalp? Yeah? Cool, no problem.

Okay, let's talk about it, anon!

It's moments like these where Simon reminds you of a cat. A big, grumpy cat. You ask him if he's okay, and he grunts in Ghost which you interpret as, "Yes. And no. Love me." Sure thing, Si.

One of your hands is lazily scratching his scalp while the other is busy with your phone. You feel Simon shift slightly and a big paw of his comes up and gently takes the phone out of your hand because he wants scritches and attention. Your full attention. On him.

Love him. Please.

And so you do. One hand giving scritches. Another intertwined with his.

He's living the life.

Until you stop. At which point he grunts in Ghost again lmao.

[kindinb00]

[lurukifennecfox]

Paulina was walking home from her little self-care date~ when she noticed a familiar figure, she slowed, double checked to make sure it wasn't some random civilian, grinned and-

threw her knife!

Wes caught it, because of course he did cautious bastard. And yes she realises this now that fighting on the street was not the smartest move but it was a long time since she saw her friends from Amity and they got along fairly well with Weston.

So they had a good time, she managed to nip him on the cheek with her knife (after taking it back) he left her with a new bruise (it will be gone by tomorrow noon) and then they were both taken in by the police...

And now she has to explain why she did what she did to the GCPD and Ancients help probably Batman as soon as she gets back to her apartment. Who could've guessed that having a friendly brawl would be so taboo in Gotham? (who is she kidding of course it's suspicious it looked like they were trying to kill each other to any normal person!)

and she's not sure how much she should say!

[sakuravalelp]

Phantom letters - DPXDC PROMPT

The bats wake up one day to the internet going crazy; people around the world were getting letters from they're diseased loved ones. The reactions are mixed, from people being outraged for the "prank" to people crying in melancholy at getting closure.

All the letters have something in common: They're closed with a green sealing wax that had an stylize DP and the name Phantom beneath it. Posts about the cards were using the # Phantom Letters.

The bats are discussing the viral posts in the cave when Alfred comes holding a basket filled with letters, announcing they were left at the doors. The letters had the sealing wax that they recognize from the posts. Checking the cameras they can see how they glitch before the basket appears.

Alfred starts to distribute the letters that had only one destinatary. Letters from each Thomas and Martha to both Bruce and Alfred. Letters from each John and Mary to Dick. A letter from Catherine to Jason. A letter from the Drake's to Tim, and another one to Bruce.

Once they had calmed down enough from the shock, Alfred proceeded to read the shared recipients. From Thomas and Martha to "The grandchildren we never got to meet." From John and Mary to "the family that took our little Robin in." Letters from Catherine to "My little boys family." The letters were directed to people the deceased didn't get to meet.

As much as the mere existence of the letters tugged at their hearts, they decided to not read them until they verified that the handwriting actually belong to the ones it claimed. They checked each letter, and in the end confirmed the letters were in fact from they're lost love ones.

After much discussion, each person makes the decision to read they're own letters later in private, and they proceed to read the ones that shared recipients out loud. The letter mentioned specifics like names and events that the deceased shouldn't have been able to know, including they're vigilante abilities, which had them pause each time to panic a bit. But what was more interested were certain pieces of the letters that mentioned a Prince Phantom.

"Prince Phantom said to don't mention things past our death, but it wasn't a command, so we're hoping this won't be much of a problem." - John and Mary

"I still can't believe Prince Phantom is letting us do this, but I'm so glad." - Catherine

It finally paints the mystery in a more concerning light when at the end of Thomas and Martha's letter there is a call for help.

"We're sorry for ending the letter on a serious tone, but seeing the kind of job you all get involved in, we wanted to ask: Could you please help Prince Phantom? Phantom had asked us to not give information about this, but he's so young, and has already been hurt so much. Please, check on Amity Park, Illinois."

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Meanwhile, team Phantom has decided that they needed to get the news about the GIW out of Amity and ask for help. Two problems:

the GIW blocks any technological attempt made.

People might be afraid to learn that ghosts exist and side with the GIW.

As a way to deal with the public image, Phantom opens a possibility that the death have never had:

"All afterlives are open to write letters to their love ones that are still alive today. Nothing that includes threats, and don't go talking about the anti-ecto acts or Amity Park yet, we're trying to ease people into our existence first. Also, I know you all check on your love ones when the veil is thin, but please keep the things you shouldn't know out of the letters if possible. If you want your letter to be sent in the first batch, make sure to deliver your letter before the week ends."

Letters are a good way to reconnect people with the death, they aren't digital, and the GIW won't be able to intercept letters if they're send through inter-dimensional portals. Two birds in one shot.

[minty364]

DPXDC Prompt #90

Jason was frustrated with life, of course he was a revenant without a way to get revenge with Bruce’s no kill rule. Doesn’t say he can’t get others to kill for him, so when he gets captured by cultists he decides to take a leap of faith and make his wish to the Ghost King before the cultists can make their stupid wish about world domination or something.

The Ghost King accepts but wants a favor from him, what Jason wasn’t expecting was a kid with black hair blue eyes about 14, showing up on his doorstep saying he needed a place to crash and this was the ghost kings favor. Jason gets a message from his family just then, the Joker is confirmed dead. He doesn’t know why the Ghost King wants him to take care of a random teen but a deal is a deal.

[yourdoll--yours]

NGL I get the hype of being fucked by a ghost, you can only feel and sit there and take it and people around you could only see your clothes getting taken away and your pussy stretching around absolutely nothing while you moan like a fucking slut.

[abooooods-blog]

I stood looking at the sky, watching those two planes that carried hope after long months of aid being cut off. I saw in them a chance for life, a chance to return to my dreams that were buried under the rubble of war and siege.

But when the aid started to fall, hope faded. The aid did not reach my hands, the hopes of the children who were screaming with joy at its arrival were shattered, all of that was shattered when it fell in areas controlled by the army or in the sea. At that moment, I realized that my dreams were far away.

I was an ambitious young man, dreaming of a better future for me and my family, but all those dreams were shattered. Now, instead of striving for success, I found myself running after cans of canned food just to stay alive. Every day I faced the same struggle; surviving in a world that no longer gave me a chance to dream.

The dreams that once filled my head were shattered before my eyes, leaving me wondering if I would ever dream again, or if my life would remain just a constant struggle for survival.

Today, I was in dire need of help. I no longer ask for more than a chance to survive, and perhaps one day I will be able to regain my dreams and achieve them. I appeal to everyone who can help to donate on my behalf, as every contribution, no matter how small, may be the reason for saving a life. I am not asking for much, just hope to help me continue.

[jedi-starbird]

Time Travel is my favourite trope and I think we need more fics where both Obi-Wan AND Qui-Gon time travel together because no matter when they get sent it's chaos. They're saving the galaxy and being physic flash-bangs to everyone around them.

like before Bandomeer?

The entire council is baffled to watch as Qui-Gon 'never taking a padawan again' Jinn has suddenly cut off his post-Xanatos depression tour to return to the temple and beeline to the creche with a frantic energy. His wild eyes immediately single out a fluffy, red-haired initiate.

"You." he exhales with a pointed finger, slightly ominous as he towers over the child. Said child starts vibrating with delight. "Me." he agrees, launching himself at the man. Qui-Gon drops to his knees with a thud that cannot be healthy. Obi-Wan's attempts to clamber into Qui-Gon's robes and maybe onto his shoulders is thwarted by the fact that Qui-Gon's massive hands are cupping Obi-Wan's tiny squishy cheeks. He stares at the initiate for a few minutes with an intensity that is starting to worry people.

Finally, "You're so small." Qui-Gon sounds like he might cry.

'What the fuck?' Plo Koon projects at Mace.

"I'm 9! That tends to be the case!" the child chirps back.

"You're nine." Oh. Ah. Qui-Gon's eyes are distinctively misty. He squishes the boy in a hug so hard he squeaks. Mace makes a series of gestures that imply the need for a head-scan. Depa obligingly drifts off towards the halls. Qui-Gon scoops the child up onto his hip and claims him as his padawan on the spot. The assorted council members and creche-masters burst into noise. Mace tells Depa to bring some space ibuprofen as well.

after Naboo?

Anakin is a little apprehensive of his place in both the order and Obi-Wan's life, but then one day Obi-Wan wakes up and is suddenly a lot less sad in the force?? In fact, if Anakin didn't know better he'd say he was almost giddy, but he's watched Obi-Wan try to pretend his world hasn't fallen apart for the past few months so it can't be that, right? And um, Miss Bant? He knows grief is a funny thing that affects people differently but he's pretty sure 'massive mood swing' and 'having full conversations with invisible people' is not...great? and you said to tell you if Obi-Wan got really weird in any way.

Anyway after a lot of medical exams, intense consultation with the archives, and a couple exorcisms, Anakin ends up being raised by his 'real' master and his ghost master. He is far more well adjusted emotionally and far less well adjusted for what counts as normal people behavior(not talking to thin air). When questioned on this, all he ever says is that he's talking to Qui-Gon. Isn't he...dead? Well, yes. Wait, he's a ghost? Ghosts are real? ...Well this ghost is real.

This starts a great number of existential crises among non-force sensitives and incredibly heated theological arguments amongst the Jedi. Whenever Obi-Wan is questioned on this, all he ever says is some variation of "the force got to know him for 5 seconds and kicked him back out." Mace backs him up on this even though that reasoning is technically blasphemous. Qui-Gon is having the time of his un-life. He's ascended to his final form, his sheer existence is a heresy, this is truly all he has ever aspired towards.

the Clone Wars?

The minute they get dropped back Qui-Gon immediately goes and haunts the shit out of Dooku. They have a signed terms of surrender and promise of info on the Sith Lord within the year. Only half of it is because Qui-Gon's giving Dooku complexes that are only perceptible to shrimp, the other half is because they now have a ghost spy that is not bound by the laws of physics nor spacetime.

Obi-Wan only nominally pays attention to this as he immediately goes and implements his 19 step seduction plan with Cody (he had to focus on something on Tatooine to pass the time). It fails. Spectacularly. Publicly. Ah right. Tatooine was not exactly the height of his sanity. Everyone in the GAR and temple is now riveted by High General and Councilor Obi-Wan Kenobi's attempts to go on a date with his Commander, who bats him away him like a particularly annoying stray and seems one bouquet of cactus away from committing mutiny. Anakin is worrying if it means his master knows about his secret marriage and this is some sort of really weird power play. (It is, but not in the way he thinks)

The next time Dooku goes after Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon spends a good few months appearing tear-stained at the edge of Dooku's perception and only communicating in terrible wails and discordant mutterings of 'padawan. my padawan. my little one.' 24/7.

"Wait, you're annoying Dooku into surrendering?"

"Oh no Anakin, we're crushing his psyche like a bug. :)"

[manarkhamiss]

📍Urgent supporter 📍

My son needs you🥹💔

Yes, your donation is needed. You are our last hope. He is tired and has minor burns, ulcers, and fractures in his body.

His condition is getting worse because of the war.

My son is unable to move. He needs to travel. He cannot live now.

Donate and save my son Shadi before it is too late.

I leave the talk to your humanity. You must donate. Every dollar saves Shadii 💔 🙏

Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #171 )

[lxvvie]

I need more free use! Simon but I’ve got no ideas what his s/o could do with him🫠🥲

Free use!Simon but instead of sex, it's... intimacy and affection.

Simon who fully expects you fuck him dumb when he comes home from a fairly long deployment but you pamper him instead and he's equal parts taken back and enjoying it because why the fuck not?

Simon who anticipates your hand going into his sweatpants when you come up from behind him but nope, your hands stay firmly on his hips. You kiss his shoulder, tell him he's the most beautiful thing you've ever laid eyes on, and holy fucking shit, his face is hot—

Simon who finds himself on the receiving end of a nice session of body worshipping. You cornered him right after he got out of the shower and you made sure to kiss and caress any and every scar and bruise you could, especially the recent ones. By the time you're done, Simon's positive every part of his body is covered in goosebumps and that he fucking whimpered. Good boy.

Simon who was so goddamn sure you were gonna leave a hickey on his neck but all you did was kiss his Adam's apple ever so softly and he could choke on the things he's feeling right now and fuck, you're killing him, doll—

Simon who thought you were going for your signature ass grab in public of all places but you simply rest your hand on the small of his back. And keep it there. Bloody fuckin' hell.

Simon who finds himself under you in bed. Not that he's complaining, mind you. And then you begin covering his face in gentle kisses. Every fucking inch, he feels the softness of your lips and his eyes flutter closed and yeah, his face is hotter than ever and his cheeks must be red as shit at this point. You tell him you love him on your final kiss and he just crumbles.

Simon who thinks he received nudes or some shit on his phone while he was away on another mission but no, it's one of the sweetest damn texts he's ever received. You wish him luck, you tell him you miss him, you tell him you can't wait to have him back in your arms again and he swears his heart is about to burst. And yes, Johnny, he's absolutely dandy. Thanks for asking.

[kindinb00]

[lurukifennecfox]

a prompt that my brain concocted from a combination of other things i saw on Tumblr or Ao3.

so jason's family teased him for being single because they're just shits like that, so Jayson implied he wasn't and he was just protecting their privacy from being stolen by the bats.

now Alfred invited his partner for dinner which would be a problem since they don't exist.

fast forward: Red Hood has been bridal-sacrificed to the ghost king in front of the bats

for whatever reason he decided to ask Danny(said king) to play the fake partner because why the fuck not?

Danny having had the same problem with his extended Fraid agreed. (good fenton parents, maybe a little overboard like they are with everything and are now scaring the hoes with cultural questions)

so now the batfam has to deal with the fact that Jay's mysterious partner is the Ghost King(technically a prince since he's too young for a ghost and has a life to live even if he chooses to live it more ghostly)

add to that ghosts screwed up traditions and preferences and you have me.

[the-californicationist]

Friday Night Magic

AO3 Link -- I'm pretty sure this was an old ask, but I don't have the original request anymore. Sorry!

Your husband of many years, John Price, has been keeping your secret: you love it when he plays doctor, giving you a happy little pill that makes you really sleepy, really fast. The best part is that you never know how you’ll be woken up. But, when he suggests that you can still play together even while he’s in the middle of hosting game night with his mates, you decide to trust in the fact that the doctor really does know best. 

TW: non-consensual sex, drugged sex, nc-somno, rape, gangbang, betrayal, anal and vaginal sex, references to past rape events

His hand was doing nothing for him, and John hadn’t drawn a usable spell in the past six turns. He was mana-screwed and bored with his lieutenant’s penchant for playing control decks. But, it was Friday, and that’s all that mattered. The tired captain always looked forward to Fridays when they were off-mission. It meant that he got to drink through his whiskey collection, smoke way too damn many cigars, and play Magic: the Gathering with his mates. All work and no play makes John a dull boy, after all. 

Friday nights also meant that you were tucked away in your room, playing with yourself while your man played cards, often overstimulating yourself to the point of tears so that when he was ready to fuck you, his cheeks pink and his breath smelling of whiskey and tobacco, he could go for hours, his fat dick drowning in the milky mess you’d made. He was like your very own sex machine, pounding away at your drooling hole, half-drunk and eager to have you in every position he could dream of. 

Sometimes, though, John’s Friday nights were extra special. Right now, he couldn’t even concentrate on the game. He just wanted to check on you to see if he was about to get a very rare kind of lucky. Fingers crossed, he excused himself from the table and padded into his bedroom, nudging the door open a crack to see where you were. 

You were laying in bed atop your plush blanket, dressed in a matching mesh set, a pale pink bra and crotchless panty, lazily touching yourself with your deft fingers and reading smut on your phone. You didn’t even remove your hand from your clit when he walked in, continuing to swirl slow circles around its sensitive head, rolling your hips just a little to help you feel the slow, delightful drag of your pleasure.  

“Hey, pretty bird,” John purred, sitting beside you, feeling the mattress sink under his weight. 

“Hey, baby. You done with your game?” You asked, peeked up over the edge of your phone before turning back to your scrolling.

“Not yet,” John leaned forward and kissed your nipple through the fabric of your bra, the thin mesh letting you feel the hot, wet whisper of his tongue.

You moaned for him, a lovely, ragged sound. It awakened something mean and primal in his chest. You pouted a bit when he pulled away, your bottom lip bulging out and showing him a small frown,

“I thought you wanted to play doctor tonight.”

Jackpot. John was a lucky man, indeed. He felt the blood from his core rush down to his prick, making his flesh instantly start to swell. He loved playing doctor. 

“We can still play,” he began to tease you, snaking his hand up your ankle and calf, his palm warming your skin. 

“Aren’t your mates still here?” You asked, a hint of scandal in your tone. 

John cocked an eyebrow, questioning your inquiry, a bit put out by your resistance,

“Don’t you wanna take your medicine, love?” His hand slipped slowly over the meat of your inner thigh, his longest fingers reaching just past the seal of your lips, barely dipping into your swollen, drooling hole, “Feels like you’ve got a fever.”

“You think so?” You smiled coyly up at him, putting down your phone and playing with your nipples in front of him, pinching and shaking them back and forth through the pink fabric. 

John nodded, “I think you should take a pill, yeah? Better nip this in the bud before you get sick, sweetheart.”

“The doctor knows best!” You winked at him and rooted around in the bottom of your beside table.

You pulled out a little purple pill bottle, tipped the lid, and placed a white tablet in his open palm. John removed his other hand from between your legs and used the fingers that had been inside of you to gently lift the pill to your lips. 

“Say ahh,” he commanded, almost all of the softness gone from his voice. 

“Ahh…” You made a long noise with your throat, tipping your head back and sticking out your tongue. When you felt the pill land in place, you flipped it under your tongue to allow it to dissolve. 

“Good girl,” John praised you, letting you suckle on his slick-covered fingers as you liked, enjoying how you were sucking him down to his knuckles as if you were practicing for his cock. Then, once the pill was gone, you released his hand and kissed his palm, the sticky sheen of your lip gloss making a little popping noise as you did. 

“Thank you, doctor. I know you’ll make me feel so much better,” you smiled, 

“I will, sweetheart. Come say goodnight to the boys.”

“Okay, but I need my robe,” you said, your voice laced with heavy apprehension. John wasn’t asking, though, and he helped you stand up from the bed, taking your phone and wrapping your silk nightgown around you, doing the bare minimum for your modesty. 

You fixed yourself in your vanity mirror and followed John out into the main room, holding the robe tight against your body as you emerged. 

“Hey, bonnie,” Soap’s face lit up, “Good to see ya.”

“You, too! Just wanted to come say good night before I went off to bed.”

“Oh, no. You gotta join us for a game, babes. It’s been too long,” Gaz chided you playfully, grabbing you by the shoulder and guiding you to the table. 

You looked up at John for help. But, he knew exactly what he was doing. He knew you only had a few more minutes before the pill would start to take effect, and he also knew that you were way too shy to tell them the truth about your naughty little habit. 

What could you say? Oh, sorry, I can’t play tonight. I took an extra-strength sleeping pill because I want my husband to fuck me while I’m helpless and knocked out cold. 

John smiled, watching you squirm and rack your brain for any and every excuse to back out,

“Oh, no, there’s no more chairs. I’ll just —“

“Si’ down,” Simon said curtly, grabbing your hip and pulling you down onto his lap, letting your legs straddle one of his huge thighs, “You can play my hand, Mrs. Price.”

The fact that your robe had ridden up your legs almost to reveal your thick asscheeks was only a secondary concern. The primary one was that your well-rubbed pussy was already leaving a damp stain on Simon’s jeans. His thigh was as hard as a stone, heavy with muscle, and he was holding your hip hard enough to keep you fully pressed to him. The only movement you could make was to grind back against him, which you had to do every time you lost your balance on his leg. 

You tried your best to pay attention to the game, but you were struggling to stay alert. The pill’s effects were making your head foggy and your eyes droop. Your fingers were too weak to hold the cards, and when they dropped from your hand, your husband’s smile turned sinister.

“Feelin’ alright there, love?” Gaz asked, a hint of teasing in his voice.

“Um…” You tried to form a sentence, but the words wouldn’t come out.

“Felt a bit under the weather earlier, wasn’t she? Took her pill, though. Makes her a bit drowsy,” Price explained, sitting next to Simon, rubbing your back, not seeming to care that his hands were shifting the collar of the robe out of place and making it hang down your shoulder, revealing the top of your sheer bra to the whole room. 

You tried to fix it, but you were slowly losing control of your arms, feeling like you were floating in a dreamy sea. 

“Dinnae fash, hen,” Johnny grinned, folding his hand on the table, “We’ll tuck you in, won’t we, lads?”

“Aye, that we will,” Simon’s voice was deep and low, spoken right into your ear. 

You looked up at John for help, realizing that he wasn’t going to save you. You thought he would scoop you up and take you back to bed, or at least make some excuse and send his men home, but no. He was letting them pull at your robe so that it hung around your waist, watching them reveal your ample tits in your see-through bra, doing nothing but looking pleased as could be. 

“John…” You slurred, feeling yourself slip away to a drugged sleep, hearing his words right before your head fell to the table in front of you,

“Sweet dreams, love.”

You were gone from the world, floating in between being awake and being asleep. And it almost seemed like you could feel yourself being fucked. The pleasure was there, and yet, you couldn’t move or scream. You couldn't open your eyes. But, John would never allow that to happen. It was just a dream, right?

When you first awoke in one of your windows of consciousness, you were still at the table, but something was… wrong. You hadn’t moved from Simon’s lap, but now, he was moving you. You were split over his cock, and he was buried, balls-deep in your pussy, fondling your breasts under your mesh bra. The others were laughing, talking, joking, carrying on their game, but their eyes leered at you like hyenas waiting their turn to sink their teeth into the neck of a caught gazelle.

“Mmngh, ungh,” you tried to speak, but you sounded drunk, “John?”

“No, princess,” Simon snarled in your ear, “Your big man’s lettin’ us jump the line, yeah? Nice of him, innit? Fuck, I love Fridays.”

“What?” You were so confused. Why was Simon talking as if this had happened before? You were so ashamed, and John was right beside you. How could he let this happen? “John… Please…”

You tried to reach out to him, but your arms only lifted to his knee, trying to grab at his shirt or hand, anything to make him help you. Simon’s dick was steadily pounding into your swollen cunt, and John was just smoking his cigar and laughing at your feeble attempts to get free. 

“Hush, now, love. Riley loves playin’ doctor, just like me. In fact, the boys have been takin’ good care of you every time they stop by, haven’t you?”

“Aye,” Johnny held his whiskey up to you as if to give you a toast, his eyes wide and full of a sick sort of hunger, “That bonnie cunt gets me through the week, lass. And ye keep it so wet for us. Such a good wee missus you’ve got, Cap’n.”

“Can’t thank you enough for the hospitality, Mrs. Price,” Gaz nodded to Soap, agreeing with his crude statement, taking another swig of his drink as his other hand moved under the table, moving rhythmically, obviously jerking himself off to the sight of you being speared on Simon’s big dick. 

Suddenly, you felt Simon’s hands grip your hips on both sides of your body, holding you down onto the base of his cock, and you knew that he was about to come. You squirmed, wishing you could muster up any kind of strength, feeling as if you were still dreaming, 

“No… No! Stop… Please… Don’t come in me…”

John cupped your cheek as his lieutenant dumped load after load of his sticky come into your body, his cock pulsing inside of you like a heartbeat, each throb of its huge shaft was another thick pool of his spend, turning your stomach and bringing desperate tears to the corners of your eyes.

“Shh, shh, shh,” John purred, “Take the medicine Riley’s givin’ you, love. It’ll make you feel so much better. You want mine next, hm? Will that make it right, pretty girl?”

“Unghhh…” You felt your body betray you, your pussy needing to come. Simon had one of his hands working quick, lurid circles around your clit, and now he was dragging you to a climactic peak, forcing you to come on his spent cock. 

As you felt yourself spin out of control, your legs began to shake, giving away your moment of pleasure to the whole table. 

“That’s a good girl,” John praised you, brushing a stray lock of hair out of your face. 

“Fuck, she’s so wet. I think she likes an audience, Cap,” Simon observed, planting sloppy kisses onto your neck as you trembled from the aftershocks of your bliss. 

They barely allowed you to cool down before John said,

“C’mere, love. My turn.”

Simon lifted you off of his lap with Price’s help, your robe fluttering to the floor. Your husband turned you on your back, laying you on the table across the cold wood and stacks of strewn playing cards. You tried to roll away, tried to sit up, but it was no use. The drugs had their hold on you, and you felt yourself fading back into a deep sleep. 

Just before the blackness took you, you saw John lining up his fat, drooling cock at your entrance, sliding his head through Riley’s come with little resistance. 

“Mmm-fuck. You’re so tight even after Riley’s prick, love. This pussy can just take so much cock, huh? Perfect girl.”

You slipped away into sleep yet again, and it seemed like you had only been out for a few minutes. You woke again in the same position, with your husband brutally pounding away at your hole, stuffing himself inside with wet, slick, slapping sounds. 

Hands were roughly groping your tits from the other side of the table, none of which belonged to your husband, and as they played with your nipples, they began to pinch and pull at them, making you cry out. 

“Look who’s awake again,” John cooed, his voice laced with farcical pity, “Don’t worry. You’ll get Johnny and Kyle soon enough.”

You couldn’t hold on. You tried to struggle against the shadowy slumber that pressed down on all your senses, but it was no use. 

When you woke up again, you were in bed. Your pillow and blanket were gone, but you recognized the soft sheets. Then, you realized you were moving. The whole mattress was shaking back and forth, and Johnny was behind you, shoving his leaking dick into your asshole. 

“Unghff-fuck! You back among the living, bonnie? Your tight little hole just grabbed me like a fuckin’ vice.”

“S-s-stop. Please…” You managed to whisper, your throat feeling sore for some reason. You tried not to think about why that would be.

“Cannae stop, lass. Your man’s dead set on findin’ the cure for what ails you, and I’m here to help. Based on how wet your wee slit has become, I think we’re on the right track.”

Just when you heard his words tease you about your wetness, you felt his fingers slip inside of your pussy, three of them, cruelly thick, following his cock’s rhythm, stretching you wider than you’d ever been in your whole life. 

You tried to cry out, to scream, to call for help, but it was no use. So, you melted into his efforts instead, feeling your muscles flutter against him, threatening to make you come from his anal sex. He didn’t seem to notice your mounting pleasure, or if he did, he didn’t much care. He just continued to thrust into your holes, slamming his stocky weight into you, making your cheek sink into the mattress as you lay face-down, ass-up for your husband’s best friend.

The last thing you heard as you fell into unconsciousness was Johnny’s moans, and his comment of surprise,

“Oh, bonnie girl. You gonna come for me? Fuck, yes…”

Your next moment of lucidity was in the living room. You were on the couch. Well, your face was laying against the crook of someone’s neck, your forehead pushing into the fabric upholstery, as you were being fucked in their lap on the sofa. You tried to lift yourself to see what was happening to you, and as you did, you saw that you were riding Simon again, straddling his legs as he fucked his cock up into your dripping hole from below. His mouth was suckling from your nipple, your bra missing, latched on and unwilling to let go, leaving little hickies behind as his teeth teased the sensitive nub. 

But, he wasn’t alone. There was… something… happening to your asshole. You craned your neck to see Kyle standing behind you, fucking his long dick into your ass as Simon pounded into you from below. 

You let out a long moan, the pleasure that you’d been receiving clearly coursing through you despite your lack of consent. You had been coming and coming and coming, and you hadn’t been awake for any of it. 

“Holy shit,” Garrick growled, his grip on your flank tightening hard enough to bruise, “She’s gonna come again. Can’t fuckin’ believe it. Feels so goddamn good.”

“Fuck,” Simon popped his mouth away from your chest to lean his head back, relaxing as he rode the waves of your impromptu orgasm, “Oh, look. She’s awake.”

Kyle’s huge hand fisted your hair and pulled you back so he could see your face,

“I dunno. I wouldn’t call that awake. How much did she take?”

“Cap gave her two more when she was with him and Soap, so we’ve got time, Sergeant. Don’t we, love?” Simon grabbed your face without care, squeezing your cheeks and making you look at him through hooded, tired eyes, “Oh, yeah, we do. All the time in the world.”

Fic #99 is in the bag... next one will be #100! Thanks to everyone for supporting me through my absolute descent into madness. lol

[minty364]

DPXDC Prompt #141

Danny’s school held a contest where their students would have to write about a member of the Justice League that they admired. They framed it as a normal assignment and then mailed them to the hero. Danny didn’t think anything of his letter until he gets a few letters pop in front of him, apparently if you burn a letter for a ghost the recipient will get it. Danny thinks back to his own letter to Martian Manhunter and he remembers mentioning in his letter that not all ghosts were bad and he wishes they had the same rights as aliens did.

Of course the Justice League shows up to town and Danny is star struck as Martian Manhunter shows up to Danny’s doorstep to ask about his letter.

[beach-love-sparkles2]

~No you hang up first ~

[preqvelle]

Sathanas

We are one

Out of three

Trinity (x)