🌟 Mya’s Masterlist 🌟 multi-fandom chaos. Poly drama. Soft moments. Unhinged killers. Welcome to the multiverse.
🦇 DC Universe ❤️ Bat and Superfamily Poly Clark Kent x Bruce Wayne x Y/N
🩸 Slasher Masterlist
🔪❤️ Poly Ghostface Masterlist
❤️💕Black Love aka Sinners Masterlist
🦸♀️🦸♂️ Marvel
This is all for now 6/18/2025
Hi, I’m Mya. I just started writing, and I'm 18, about to be 19 in some months. I'm currently in college, and I am going to Stanford University. There will be more soon Check out my Patreon! My A03 account is Myadagoat22.
Multi May Day 3 yay! And it's chucky x Tiffany x y/n
The air in the motel room was thick with the smell of stale cigarette smoke and cheap air freshener. Y/N sat on the edge of the lumpy bed, watching as Tiffany adjusted her leather corset in the cracked mirror. Chucky, slumped in a rickety armchair, picked at a loose thread on his overalls, his painted-on smile seeming more menacing than usual in the dim light.
"Ready for round two, dollface?" Tiffany purred, turning from the mirror. Her eyes glinted with a predatory hunger that made Y/N's pulse quicken.
Chucky snorted. "She's been ready. Look at her, practically vibrating." He pushed himself out of the chair, his movements stiff and unnatural. "Let's not waste any more time on pleasantries."
Tiffany crossed the room, her heels clicking softly on the stained carpet. She stopped in front of Y/N, her shadow falling over them. Without a word, she tangled her fingers in Y/N's hair, tilting their head back. Her kiss was bruising, a clash of teeth and tongues, tasting of cherry lip gloss and something metallic. Y/N moaned into her mouth, their hands coming up to grip Tiffany's hips.
Chucky was behind them then, his small, hard body pressing against Y/N's back. His plastic hands were surprisingly rough as they slid under Y/N's shirt, his fingers pinching and twisting their nipples. Y/N gasped into Tiffany's mouth, arching back against him.
"On the bed," Tiffany commanded when she finally pulled away. "Now."
Y/N scrambled to comply, lying back on the creaking mattress. Tiffany crawled over them, straddling their waist, while Chucky positioned himself at the foot of the bed, his blue eyes fixed on the scene before him. Tiffany leaned down, her blonde hair falling around Y/N's face like a curtain.
"You're going to be a good little toy for us, aren't you?" she whispered, her breath hot against Y/N's ear. She nipped at their earlobe, her hands roaming over Y/N's body, tearing at their clothes until they were naked and exposed.
Chucky moved closer, his hand replacing Tiffany's between Y/N's legs. His touch was clinical, almost curious, as he explored their folds. He slid a finger inside them, then another, pumping them in and out with a detached efficiency that was somehow more arousing than any skilled lover's touch.
"Look at that," he grunted, a note of approval in his voice. "So wet for us already."
Tiffany chuckled, lowering her head to take one of Y/N's nipples in her mouth. She sucked hard, her teeth scraping against the sensitive bud, sending a jolt of pleasure-pain straight to Y/N's core. Y/N cried out, their hands fisting in the cheap sheets as Chucky added a third finger, stretching them wide.
"Please," Y/N begged, not sure what they were begging for.
"Please what?" Tiffany teased, raising her head. "Please stop? Or please more?"
"More," Y/N gasped. "Please, more."
Tiffany smiled, a genuine, terrifying smile. She shifted, moving up Y/N's body until she was straddling their face. "Then show me how much you want it."
Y/N didn't need to be told twice. They wrapped their arms around Tiffany's thighs, pulling her down onto their mouth. They licked and sucked at her clit, their tongue delving into her wet heat as she ground against them. Above them, Tiffany moaned, her head thrown back in ecstasy.
Meanwhile, Chucky had positioned himself between Y/N's legs. They felt the blunt head of his plastic cock pressing against their entrance, and then he was pushing into them, filling them with a hard, unyielding presence. He began to thrust, his movements short and sharp, his plastic hips slapping against their skin with each stroke.
The room was a symphony of sounds—the wet slap of skin, the creak of the bed, the moans and gasps of three bodies lost in pleasure. Y/N was overwhelmed, trapped between Tiffany's grinding hips and Chucky's relentless thrusting, their body a conduit for their combined lust.
They could feel their orgasm building, a tight coil in their belly. They sucked harder on Tiffany's clit, wanting to feel her come undone around them. Tiffany cried out, her body convulsing as she came, her juices flooding Y/N's mouth.
At the same time, Chucky's thrusts became erratic, his breathing coming in harsh pants. With a final, brutal thrust, he buried himself deep inside Y/N, his plastic cock pulsing as he found his own release.
The sensation of both of them coming pushed Y/N over the edge. Their orgasm ripped through them, a blinding, all-consuming wave of pleasure that left them trembling and breathless.
Afterward, they lay tangled together in a heap of limbs and plastic, the air thick with the smell of sex and sweat. Tiffany was the first to move, disentangling herself from the pile and padding over to the mini-fridge.
"Anyone for a beer?" she asked, as if they'd just finished a game of cards rather than a depraved threesome.
Chucky grunted, already looking bored. Y/N just lay there, their body aching and their mind reeling, already wondering what round three would bring.
Multi May Day 3 yay! And it's chucky x Tiffany x y/n
The air in the motel room was thick with the smell of stale cigarette smoke and cheap air freshener. Y/N sat on the edge of the lumpy bed, watching as Tiffany adjusted her leather corset in the cracked mirror. Chucky, slumped in a rickety armchair, picked at a loose thread on his overalls, his painted-on smile seeming more menacing than usual in the dim light.
"Ready for round two, dollface?" Tiffany purred, turning from the mirror. Her eyes glinted with a predatory hunger that made Y/N's pulse quicken.
Chucky snorted. "She's been ready. Look at her, practically vibrating." He pushed himself out of the chair, his movements stiff and unnatural. "Let's not waste any more time on pleasantries."
Tiffany crossed the room, her heels clicking softly on the stained carpet. She stopped in front of Y/N, her shadow falling over them. Without a word, she tangled her fingers in Y/N's hair, tilting their head back. Her kiss was bruising, a clash of teeth and tongues, tasting of cherry lip gloss and something metallic. Y/N moaned into her mouth, their hands coming up to grip Tiffany's hips.
Chucky was behind them then, his small, hard body pressing against Y/N's back. His plastic hands were surprisingly rough as they slid under Y/N's shirt, his fingers pinching and twisting their nipples. Y/N gasped into Tiffany's mouth, arching back against him.
"On the bed," Tiffany commanded when she finally pulled away. "Now."
Y/N scrambled to comply, lying back on the creaking mattress. Tiffany crawled over them, straddling their waist, while Chucky positioned himself at the foot of the bed, his blue eyes fixed on the scene before him. Tiffany leaned down, her blonde hair falling around Y/N's face like a curtain.
"You're going to be a good little toy for us, aren't you?" she whispered, her breath hot against Y/N's ear. She nipped at their earlobe, her hands roaming over Y/N's body, tearing at their clothes until they were naked and exposed.
Chucky moved closer, his hand replacing Tiffany's between Y/N's legs. His touch was clinical, almost curious, as he explored their folds. He slid a finger inside them, then another, pumping them in and out with a detached efficiency that was somehow more arousing than any skilled lover's touch.
"Look at that," he grunted, a note of approval in his voice. "So wet for us already."
Tiffany chuckled, lowering her head to take one of Y/N's nipples in her mouth. She sucked hard, her teeth scraping against the sensitive bud, sending a jolt of pleasure-pain straight to Y/N's core. Y/N cried out, their hands fisting in the cheap sheets as Chucky added a third finger, stretching them wide.
"Please," Y/N begged, not sure what they were begging for.
"Please what?" Tiffany teased, raising her head. "Please stop? Or please more?"
"More," Y/N gasped. "Please, more."
Tiffany smiled, a genuine, terrifying smile. She shifted, moving up Y/N's body until she was straddling their face. "Then show me how much you want it."
Y/N didn't need to be told twice. They wrapped their arms around Tiffany's thighs, pulling her down onto their mouth. They licked and sucked at her clit, their tongue delving into her wet heat as she ground against them. Above them, Tiffany moaned, her head thrown back in ecstasy.
Meanwhile, Chucky had positioned himself between Y/N's legs. They felt the blunt head of his plastic cock pressing against their entrance, and then he was pushing into them, filling them with a hard, unyielding presence. He began to thrust, his movements short and sharp, his plastic hips slapping against their skin with each stroke.
The room was a symphony of sounds—the wet slap of skin, the creak of the bed, the moans and gasps of three bodies lost in pleasure. Y/N was overwhelmed, trapped between Tiffany's grinding hips and Chucky's relentless thrusting, their body a conduit for their combined lust.
They could feel their orgasm building, a tight coil in their belly. They sucked harder on Tiffany's clit, wanting to feel her come undone around them. Tiffany cried out, her body convulsing as she came, her juices flooding Y/N's mouth.
At the same time, Chucky's thrusts became erratic, his breathing coming in harsh pants. With a final, brutal thrust, he buried himself deep inside Y/N, his plastic cock pulsing as he found his own release.
The sensation of both of them coming pushed Y/N over the edge. Their orgasm ripped through them, a blinding, all-consuming wave of pleasure that left them trembling and breathless.
Afterward, they lay tangled together in a heap of limbs and plastic, the air thick with the smell of sex and sweat. Tiffany was the first to move, disentangling herself from the pile and padding over to the mini-fridge.
"Anyone for a beer?" she asked, as if they'd just finished a game of cards rather than a depraved threesome.
Chucky grunted, already looking bored. Y/N just lay there, their body aching and their mind reeling, already wondering what round three would bring.
The Mississippi sun beat down on the dusty road as Smoke's truck rumbled to a stop. Annie shielded her eyes, her breath catching in her throat at the sight of the small but tidy house before them. It wasn't grand, but it was a proper home with a porch and painted shutters, a world away from the cramped sharecropper's cabin she'd known.
"You did this?" Annie whispered, her voice trembling as Smoke helped her down from the truck. He just nodded, a rare smile breaking through his usual stoic expression. The house had real glass windows that caught the light, and inside, there was a proper bed with a quilt, a small kitchen with a stove, and even a radio on a wooden stand.
Tears of joy streamed down Annie's face as she ran her hands over the smooth kitchen counter. "It's beautiful," she breathed, turning to throw her arms around his neck. "It's more than I ever dreamed of."
That evening, after they'd eaten a simple meal, chicken and Mac. the delta heat hung thick in the small bedroom. Smoke lit a cigarette, watching Annie move around the room in her simple cotton dress. She caught his gaze and smiled, slowly unbuttoning her dress until it pooled at her feet. The moonlight through the window painted her skin silver as she approached the bed where he sat.
He pulled her onto his lap, his hands tracing the curves of her body as their mouths met in a hungry kiss. He tasted of tobacco and whiskey, and Annie responded with an urgency that matched his own. He laid her back against the quilt, his rough hands surprisingly gentle as they explored her body. Her fingers tangled in his hair as he kissed his way down her neck, his teeth scraping lightly against her pulse point, making her shiver.
His mouth traveled lower, closing over one taut nipple. Annie gasped, arching into him as his tongue flicked and circled, sending jolts of pleasure straight to her core. He gave the other breast the same attention, his hand sliding down her stomach to cup the heat between her thighs. His fingers parted her folds, finding her slick and swollen with need. He stroked her slowly, deliberately, his thumb circling the sensitive bundle of nerves as she writhed beneath him.
"What's my name" Smoke said demanding
"Daddy," she moaned, his real name a prayer on her lips.
"Good girl keep saying it just like that." He shifted, settling between her thighs and positioning himself at her entrance. He pushed into her slowly, savoring the tight, wet heat that enveloped him inch by inch. Annie cried out, her nails digging into his shoulders as he filled her completely.
He began to move, his strokes long and deep, setting a rhythm that made the old bed frame creak in time with their lovemaking "want me to fill this pussy." Annie completely in bliss replied "yes baby!" The room filled with their mingled sounds of pleasure—his low grunts, her higher cries, the slap of skin against skin. He angled his hips, hitting that spot inside her that made her see stars, and she met him thrust for thrust, her legs wrapped tightly around his waist.
"Daddy, please," she begged, not even sure what she was pleading for—more, faster, harder, everything.
He obliged, his movements becoming more urgent, more demanding. He drove into her with a primal intensity that pushed them both toward the edge. Annie could feel the pleasure coiling tighter and tighter in her belly, a storm gathering, ready to break. His thumb found her clit again, rubbing in firm circles as he pistoned into her, and that was all it took.
"Cum on daddy dick baby girl"
Her orgasm crashed over her with the force of a tidal wave, stealing her breath and making her vision go white. She cried out his name as her inner muscles clenched around him, rippling and milking him as wave after wave of pleasure washed through her. He followed her over the edge with a guttural moan, burying himself deep inside her as he spilled his seed, his body trembling with the force of his release.
Afterward, they lay tangled in the sheets, their bodies slick with sweat, their breathing slowly returning to normal. Smoke was drifting toward sleep when Annie propped herself up on one elbow, her fingers tracing patterns on his chest.
"Elijah," she said softly, "there's something else."
His eyes snapped open. In the dim light, he could see the mixture of fear and hope in her expression. He stared at her for a long moment, then slowly reached up to touch her still-flat stomach, a wonder spreading across his face that Annie had never seen before.
"You're sure?"
She nodded, tears welling in her eyes again. "I'm sure."
He pulled her close, burying his face in her hair as a raw sound escaped his throat—part laugh, part sob. In that moment, surrounded by the sounds of the delta night, they weren't just sinners anymore. They were a family, beginning anew in their small house under the Mississippi stars.
The Mississippi sun beat down on the dusty road as Smoke's truck rumbled to a stop. Annie shielded her eyes, her breath catching in her throat at the sight of the small but tidy house before them. It wasn't grand, but it was a proper home with a porch and painted shutters, a world away from the cramped sharecropper's cabin she'd known.
"You did this?" Annie whispered, her voice trembling as Smoke helped her down from the truck. He just nodded, a rare smile breaking through his usual stoic expression. The house had real glass windows that caught the light, and inside, there was a proper bed with a quilt, a small kitchen with a stove, and even a radio on a wooden stand.
Tears of joy streamed down Annie's face as she ran her hands over the smooth kitchen counter. "It's beautiful," she breathed, turning to throw her arms around his neck. "It's more than I ever dreamed of."
That evening, after they'd eaten a simple meal, chicken and Mac. the delta heat hung thick in the small bedroom. Smoke lit a cigarette, watching Annie move around the room in her simple cotton dress. She caught his gaze and smiled, slowly unbuttoning her dress until it pooled at her feet. The moonlight through the window painted her skin silver as she approached the bed where he sat.
He pulled her onto his lap, his hands tracing the curves of her body as their mouths met in a hungry kiss. He tasted of tobacco and whiskey, and Annie responded with an urgency that matched his own. He laid her back against the quilt, his rough hands surprisingly gentle as they explored her body. Her fingers tangled in his hair as he kissed his way down her neck, his teeth scraping lightly against her pulse point, making her shiver.
His mouth traveled lower, closing over one taut nipple. Annie gasped, arching into him as his tongue flicked and circled, sending jolts of pleasure straight to her core. He gave the other breast the same attention, his hand sliding down her stomach to cup the heat between her thighs. His fingers parted her folds, finding her slick and swollen with need. He stroked her slowly, deliberately, his thumb circling the sensitive bundle of nerves as she writhed beneath him.
"What's my name" Smoke said demanding
"Daddy," she moaned, his real name a prayer on her lips.
"Good girl keep saying it just like that." He shifted, settling between her thighs and positioning himself at her entrance. He pushed into her slowly, savoring the tight, wet heat that enveloped him inch by inch. Annie cried out, her nails digging into his shoulders as he filled her completely.
He began to move, his strokes long and deep, setting a rhythm that made the old bed frame creak in time with their lovemaking "want me to fill this pussy." Annie completely in bliss replied "yes baby!" The room filled with their mingled sounds of pleasure—his low grunts, her higher cries, the slap of skin against skin. He angled his hips, hitting that spot inside her that made her see stars, and she met him thrust for thrust, her legs wrapped tightly around his waist.
"Daddy, please," she begged, not even sure what she was pleading for—more, faster, harder, everything.
He obliged, his movements becoming more urgent, more demanding. He drove into her with a primal intensity that pushed them both toward the edge. Annie could feel the pleasure coiling tighter and tighter in her belly, a storm gathering, ready to break. His thumb found her clit again, rubbing in firm circles as he pistoned into her, and that was all it took.
"Cum on daddy dick baby girl"
Her orgasm crashed over her with the force of a tidal wave, stealing her breath and making her vision go white. She cried out his name as her inner muscles clenched around him, rippling and milking him as wave after wave of pleasure washed through her. He followed her over the edge with a guttural moan, burying himself deep inside her as he spilled his seed, his body trembling with the force of his release.
Afterward, they lay tangled in the sheets, their bodies slick with sweat, their breathing slowly returning to normal. Smoke was drifting toward sleep when Annie propped herself up on one elbow, her fingers tracing patterns on his chest.
"Elijah," she said softly, "there's something else."
His eyes snapped open. In the dim light, he could see the mixture of fear and hope in her expression. He stared at her for a long moment, then slowly reached up to touch her still-flat stomach, a wonder spreading across his face that Annie had never seen before.
"You're sure?"
She nodded, tears welling in her eyes again. "I'm sure."
He pulled her close, burying his face in her hair as a raw sound escaped his throat—part laugh, part sob. In that moment, surrounded by the sounds of the delta night, they weren't just sinners anymore. They were a family, beginning anew in their small house under the Mississippi stars.
The weekend arrived with a rare, collective agreement: they were going to do something normal. Something completely unrelated to capes, cowls, or galactic threats. They were going to the Metropolis Annual Summer Carnival.
"This is a terrible idea," Bruce stated flatly, standing in the driveway and looking at the convoy of vehicles they'd need. "Eight children, two super-powered adults, and me. It's a security nightmare."
"Oh, relax, Mr. Grumps," Y/N said, linking her arm through his. "It'll be fun! We'll get cotton candy, ride the Ferris wheel... it'll be wholesome."
Clark, ever the optimist, was already herding the kids towards the cars. "Alright, everyone, buddy system! Dick, you're with Jon and Duke. Jason, you've got Damien. Steph, Connor, and Tim, you stick together. No wandering off!"
The carnival was a sensory overload of bright lights, blaring music, and the smell of fried dough and popcorn. It was chaotic, and the kids were in their element.
"First stop, the ring toss!" Jason declared, dragging a reluctant Damien towards a game booth. "I'm gonna win you the biggest, ugliest stuffed animal they have."
"I do not require a plush toy," Damien scoffed, but he followed anyway, his eyes scanning the crowd for potential threats.
Dick, ever the showman, immediately challenged the carnival's "Strongman" game. With a single, casual tap of the hammer, he sent the puck flying to the top of the tower, shattering the bell. The game operator just stared, dumbfounded. "Uh... kid, you win the giant bear."
Meanwhile, Tim had already mapped out the entire carnival on his phone, identifying the most efficient route to hit every major ride in the shortest amount of time. Steph and Connor were trying to convince him to just relax and live a little.
The younger twins, Jon and Duke, were a whirlwind of pure joy. Jon used a tiny puff of super-breath to win a goldfish in a bag (which he immediately named "Bubbles"), while Duke used his ghost vision to cheat at a card game, much to the delight of a group of other kids.
The parents tried to keep up.
"Clark, Jon is about to float that giant teddy bear over to the Ferris wheel," Bruce muttered, his hand on his forehead.
"I see it," Clark said with a sigh, using a subtle burst of heat vision from across the park to pop the balloon Jon was eyeing, distracting him. "Crisis averted."
Y/N was having the time of her life, eating a funnel cake and laughing at the absurdity of it all. "See? This is nice! We're just a normal family at a carnival!"
"Normal families don't have to use heat vision to prevent their son from committing grand theft teddy bear," Bruce grumbled, but a small smile was playing on his lips.
As the sun began to set, they found themselves on the Ferris wheel. Their car, thankfully, was just for the three of them. It rose slowly, the lights of the carnival sprawling out beneath them like a glittering carpet.
"I told you it'd be nice," Y/N said, leaning her head on Clark's shoulder.
"It is," Clark agreed, wrapping an arm around her. He looked at Bruce, who was staring out at the city, his profile sharp and beautiful in the twilight. "Even you seem to be enjoying it."
Bruce turned to look at them, his expression soft. "It has its moments," he admitted.
Y/N reached up, her fingers gently turning his face towards hers. "Come here," she whispered, pulling him into a soft, sweet kiss. It was a gentle press of lips, full of love and contentment.
When they broke apart, Clark leaned in, capturing Bruce's mouth in a deeper, more passionate kiss. Bruce's hand came up to cup the back of Clark's neck, his fingers tangling in his hair. They were a beautiful, tangled mess of love and desire, a perfect moment of peace in their chaotic lives.
They broke apart, resting their foreheads together, the world spinning slowly beneath them.
"Okay," Bruce said, his voice a low rumble. "This was a good idea."
The weekend arrived with a rare, collective agreement: they were going to do something normal. Something completely unrelated to capes, cowls, or galactic threats. They were going to the Metropolis Annual Summer Carnival.
"This is a terrible idea," Bruce stated flatly, standing in the driveway and looking at the convoy of vehicles they'd need. "Eight children, two super-powered adults, and me. It's a security nightmare."
"Oh, relax, Mr. Grumps," Y/N said, linking her arm through his. "It'll be fun! We'll get cotton candy, ride the Ferris wheel... it'll be wholesome."
Clark, ever the optimist, was already herding the kids towards the cars. "Alright, everyone, buddy system! Dick, you're with Jon and Duke. Jason, you've got Damien. Steph, Connor, and Tim, you stick together. No wandering off!"
The carnival was a sensory overload of bright lights, blaring music, and the smell of fried dough and popcorn. It was chaotic, and the kids were in their element.
"First stop, the ring toss!" Jason declared, dragging a reluctant Damien towards a game booth. "I'm gonna win you the biggest, ugliest stuffed animal they have."
"I do not require a plush toy," Damien scoffed, but he followed anyway, his eyes scanning the crowd for potential threats.
Dick, ever the showman, immediately challenged the carnival's "Strongman" game. With a single, casual tap of the hammer, he sent the puck flying to the top of the tower, shattering the bell. The game operator just stared, dumbfounded. "Uh... kid, you win the giant bear."
Meanwhile, Tim had already mapped out the entire carnival on his phone, identifying the most efficient route to hit every major ride in the shortest amount of time. Steph and Connor were trying to convince him to just relax and live a little.
The younger twins, Jon and Duke, were a whirlwind of pure joy. Jon used a tiny puff of super-breath to win a goldfish in a bag (which he immediately named "Bubbles"), while Duke used his ghost vision to cheat at a card game, much to the delight of a group of other kids.
The parents tried to keep up.
"Clark, Jon is about to float that giant teddy bear over to the Ferris wheel," Bruce muttered, his hand on his forehead.
"I see it," Clark said with a sigh, using a subtle burst of heat vision from across the park to pop the balloon Jon was eyeing, distracting him. "Crisis averted."
Y/N was having the time of her life, eating a funnel cake and laughing at the absurdity of it all. "See? This is nice! We're just a normal family at a carnival!"
"Normal families don't have to use heat vision to prevent their son from committing grand theft teddy bear," Bruce grumbled, but a small smile was playing on his lips.
As the sun began to set, they found themselves on the Ferris wheel. Their car, thankfully, was just for the three of them. It rose slowly, the lights of the carnival sprawling out beneath them like a glittering carpet.
"I told you it'd be nice," Y/N said, leaning her head on Clark's shoulder.
"It is," Clark agreed, wrapping an arm around her. He looked at Bruce, who was staring out at the city, his profile sharp and beautiful in the twilight. "Even you seem to be enjoying it."
Bruce turned to look at them, his expression soft. "It has its moments," he admitted.
Y/N reached up, her fingers gently turning his face towards hers. "Come here," she whispered, pulling him into a soft, sweet kiss. It was a gentle press of lips, full of love and contentment.
When they broke apart, Clark leaned in, capturing Bruce's mouth in a deeper, more passionate kiss. Bruce's hand came up to cup the back of Clark's neck, his fingers tangling in his hair. They were a beautiful, tangled mess of love and desire, a perfect moment of peace in their chaotic lives.
They broke apart, resting their foreheads together, the world spinning slowly beneath them.
"Okay," Bruce said, his voice a low rumble. "This was a good idea."
The bass thrummed through the floorboards of the crowded house, a physical heartbeat for the writhing mass of teenagers. For you, Billy, Stu, and Jennifer, the party was just a backdrop. You were your own ecosystem, a tangled knot of hands and bodies moving in sync on the makeshift dance floor. Jennifer, a vision in a low-cut top and jeans grinding back against you, her head rolling on your shoulder. Her eyes, dark and knowing, found Billy's over your head. He was leaning against a wall, a red solo cup in hand, watching the three of you with a predatory smirk that was all his own.
Stu, ever the golden retriever of chaos, was bouncing on the balls of his feet, spilling some of his beer as he laughed at something Jen whispered in your ear. "This is awesome," he yelled over the music, slinging an arm around both you and Jen, pulling Billy in with his other hand. "Best party ever!" Billy just rolled his eyes, but the fondness in them was undeniable as he took a swig of his drink, his gaze lingering on the way Jen's ass pressed against your hips.
Hours later, the party was dying down. The music was lower, the crowd thinner, and the four of you stumbled out into the cool night air, a giggling, tipsy mess. "My place," Billy declared, his arm wrapped possessively around your waist, his other hand tangled in Jen's hair.
Back at the house, the energy shifted. The frantic party vibe melted into a lazy, intimate haze. "Boring," Jen announced suddenly, flopping dramatically onto the couch. "I have an idea." She shot up, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Let's go to the roof. Let's get high."
You and Billy shared a look. "Jen, you can't even get high," you reminded her, a smile playing on your lips.
"Details, details," she waved off. "C'mon, it'll be fun." Stu was already on board, grabbing the stash from a kitchen drawer. "Roof sesh! Yeah!"
The night air on the roof was crisp, carrying the scent of cut grass and distant exhaust. The town of Woodsboro spread out below you, a sea of sleepy lights. You passed the joint around, the smoke curling up into the darkness. Jen took a long drag and held it, blowing out a perfect smoke ring with a frustrated sigh. "See? Nothing. It's like smoking air. You guys are all gonna be giggly and I'm just gonna be… here."
"Aw, poor baby," Stu cooed, pulling her into his lap and nuzzling her neck. "I'll share my buzz." He kissed her, deep and messy, and she giggled, pushing him away playfully.
It was then that Stu's gaze drifted over the edge of the roof, then back to the three of you. A slow, wicked grin spread across his face. "You know," he said, his voice low and conspiratorial. "We should have roof sex."
Your eyes widened. "Stu, are you insane? We could fall."
Billy, who had been quietly watching the exchange, snorted. He moved from his spot against the chimney and knelt in front of you, his hands cupping your face. "Who cares?" he murmured, his voice a rough velvet that sent a shiver down your spine. "Live a little." And then he was kissing you, a hard, demanding kiss that tasted of beer and smoke and pure Billy Loomis. It was an argument you couldn't win, a surrender you didn't want to fight.
That was all it took. Billy's hands were impatient, tugging your shirt over your head before his mouth was back on yours, hungry and possessive. Jennifer and Stu were a whirlwind of motion beside you, a tangle of limbs and soft curses as they shed their own clothes. The cool night air pebbled your skin, raising goosebumps wherever Billy's hands weren't touching you. He laid you down carefully on the flattest part of the roof, the rough texture of the shingles a strange, exciting contrast against your bare back.
"Stu, get over here," Billy commanded, his voice low and husky. "She needs something to keep her mouth busy." Stu grinned, all eagerness, and knelt by your head, his long, thick cock already hard and pointing at the sky. You didn't need to be told twice. You turned your head, taking the tip of him into your mouth and swirling your tongue around the head, savoring his salty taste. He groaned, his hands tangling in your hair as you began to bob your head, taking him deeper with each stroke.
Billy, meanwhile, had settled between your legs. He didn't rush. He kissed his way up your inner thighs, his stubble a delicious burn against your sensitive skin. "So fucking wet for us already," he murmured, his breath hot against your core. "You like this, don't you? Like knowing anyone could look up and see what a dirty girl you are." You moaned around Stu's cock, the vibration making him thrust deeper into your mouth. That was all the encouragement Billy needed. He flattened his tongue and licked a long, slow stripe from your entrance to your clit, circling the sensitive bundle of nerves before sucking it into his mouth.
Your hips bucked off the roof, a silent plea for more, but Billy held you down, his hands pressing firmly on your hips. He ate you out with a focused intensity, his tongue delving into your folds, fucking you with it before returning to your clit, alternating between broad, flat licks and quick, flicking movements. It was overwhelming, a perfect, hedonistic spiral of pleasure.
Jennifer wasn't content to just watch. With a wicked grin, she straddled your stomach, her slick heat pressing against your skin. She leaned forward, capturing one of your nipples in her mouth and sucking hard, her teeth scraping gently against the sensitive peak. The dual sensations of Billy's mouth on your clit and Jen's on your nipple was almost too much. You could feel your orgasm building, a tight coil in your stomach.
"Not yet," Billy growled, pulling away just as you were about to tip over the edge. He looked up at you, his chin glistening with your arousal. "I want to feel you come on my cock." He positioned himself at your entrance, teasing you with just the head, pushing in slightly before pulling back out. "Please, Billy," you begged, pulling off Stu's cock for a moment to gasp the words.
"Since you asked so nicely," he smirked, and then he was pushing into you, a slow, deliberate stretch that burned in the best way. He didn't stop until he was buried to the hilt, his pelvis flush against yours. He held still for a moment, letting you adjust, his dark eyes locked on yours. "Fuck, you're tight." He started to move then, a slow, deep grind that hit a spot deep inside you that made your toes curl. Each thrust was deliberate, powerful, designed to drive you insane.
Stu took the opportunity to slide his cock back into your waiting mouth, his hips setting a matching rhythm. You were trapped between them, filled from both ends, a perfect, willing vessel for their pleasure. Jennifer, still perched on your stomach, began to rock her hips, sliding her wet folds against your skin, Billy put two fingers in her cunt feeling how wet she was. She leaned down, her mouth finding yours in a messy, three-way kiss with you and Stu. "You look so good like this," she panted against your lips. "All full of cock."
Billy's pace began to quicken, his thrusts becoming harder, more erratic he started stroking Jen with his fingers even faster. He reached down with his other hand , his thumb finding your clit and rubbing it in tight, fast circles. "Come for me, y/n," he demanded, his voice rough with lust. "Come all over my fucking cock." That was all it took. The coil in your stomach snapped, and your orgasm crashed through you, a blinding, all-consuming wave of pleasure. You cried out, your back arching off the roof as your walls clenched around Billy's length.
Billy followed you over the edge with a guttural groan, his hips stuttering as he spilled himself deep inside you, and took his fingers out of Jen. Stu wasn't far behind, pulling out of your mouth and fisting his cock, his come painting your lips and chin in hot, sticky stripes. Jennifer, with a final, sharp cry, came against your stomach, her body trembling with the force of her release.
For a long moment, the four of you just stayed there, a tangled, breathless heap under the stars. The only sounds were your ragged breaths and the distant hum of the town below. Then, with a coordinated effort that was both clumsy and intimate, you disentangled yourselves and collapsed onto the slightly flatter part of the roof, a mess of naked limbs and sated smiles.
"Okay," Jen said, her voice husky as she laid her head on your stomach. "That was better than getting high."
Billy just chuckled, pulling you and Jen both against his chest as Stu curled up behind you, his arm thrown over everyone. "Told you," he said, his voice smug and content. "Who cares about a little danger?"
The bass thrummed through the floorboards of the crowded house, a physical heartbeat for the writhing mass of teenagers. For you, Billy, Stu, and Jennifer, the party was just a backdrop. You were your own ecosystem, a tangled knot of hands and bodies moving in sync on the makeshift dance floor. Jennifer, a vision in a low-cut top and jeans grinding back against you, her head rolling on your shoulder. Her eyes, dark and knowing, found Billy's over your head. He was leaning against a wall, a red solo cup in hand, watching the three of you with a predatory smirk that was all his own.
Stu, ever the golden retriever of chaos, was bouncing on the balls of his feet, spilling some of his beer as he laughed at something Jen whispered in your ear. "This is awesome," he yelled over the music, slinging an arm around both you and Jen, pulling Billy in with his other hand. "Best party ever!" Billy just rolled his eyes, but the fondness in them was undeniable as he took a swig of his drink, his gaze lingering on the way Jen's ass pressed against your hips.
Hours later, the party was dying down. The music was lower, the crowd thinner, and the four of you stumbled out into the cool night air, a giggling, tipsy mess. "My place," Billy declared, his arm wrapped possessively around your waist, his other hand tangled in Jen's hair.
Back at the house, the energy shifted. The frantic party vibe melted into a lazy, intimate haze. "Boring," Jen announced suddenly, flopping dramatically onto the couch. "I have an idea." She shot up, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Let's go to the roof. Let's get high."
You and Billy shared a look. "Jen, you can't even get high," you reminded her, a smile playing on your lips.
"Details, details," she waved off. "C'mon, it'll be fun." Stu was already on board, grabbing the stash from a kitchen drawer. "Roof sesh! Yeah!"
The night air on the roof was crisp, carrying the scent of cut grass and distant exhaust. The town of Woodsboro spread out below you, a sea of sleepy lights. You passed the joint around, the smoke curling up into the darkness. Jen took a long drag and held it, blowing out a perfect smoke ring with a frustrated sigh. "See? Nothing. It's like smoking air. You guys are all gonna be giggly and I'm just gonna be… here."
"Aw, poor baby," Stu cooed, pulling her into his lap and nuzzling her neck. "I'll share my buzz." He kissed her, deep and messy, and she giggled, pushing him away playfully.
It was then that Stu's gaze drifted over the edge of the roof, then back to the three of you. A slow, wicked grin spread across his face. "You know," he said, his voice low and conspiratorial. "We should have roof sex."
Your eyes widened. "Stu, are you insane? We could fall."
Billy, who had been quietly watching the exchange, snorted. He moved from his spot against the chimney and knelt in front of you, his hands cupping your face. "Who cares?" he murmured, his voice a rough velvet that sent a shiver down your spine. "Live a little." And then he was kissing you, a hard, demanding kiss that tasted of beer and smoke and pure Billy Loomis. It was an argument you couldn't win, a surrender you didn't want to fight.
That was all it took. Billy's hands were impatient, tugging your shirt over your head before his mouth was back on yours, hungry and possessive. Jennifer and Stu were a whirlwind of motion beside you, a tangle of limbs and soft curses as they shed their own clothes. The cool night air pebbled your skin, raising goosebumps wherever Billy's hands weren't touching you. He laid you down carefully on the flattest part of the roof, the rough texture of the shingles a strange, exciting contrast against your bare back.
"Stu, get over here," Billy commanded, his voice low and husky. "She needs something to keep her mouth busy." Stu grinned, all eagerness, and knelt by your head, his long, thick cock already hard and pointing at the sky. You didn't need to be told twice. You turned your head, taking the tip of him into your mouth and swirling your tongue around the head, savoring his salty taste. He groaned, his hands tangling in your hair as you began to bob your head, taking him deeper with each stroke.
Billy, meanwhile, had settled between your legs. He didn't rush. He kissed his way up your inner thighs, his stubble a delicious burn against your sensitive skin. "So fucking wet for us already," he murmured, his breath hot against your core. "You like this, don't you? Like knowing anyone could look up and see what a dirty girl you are." You moaned around Stu's cock, the vibration making him thrust deeper into your mouth. That was all the encouragement Billy needed. He flattened his tongue and licked a long, slow stripe from your entrance to your clit, circling the sensitive bundle of nerves before sucking it into his mouth.
Your hips bucked off the roof, a silent plea for more, but Billy held you down, his hands pressing firmly on your hips. He ate you out with a focused intensity, his tongue delving into your folds, fucking you with it before returning to your clit, alternating between broad, flat licks and quick, flicking movements. It was overwhelming, a perfect, hedonistic spiral of pleasure.
Jennifer wasn't content to just watch. With a wicked grin, she straddled your stomach, her slick heat pressing against your skin. She leaned forward, capturing one of your nipples in her mouth and sucking hard, her teeth scraping gently against the sensitive peak. The dual sensations of Billy's mouth on your clit and Jen's on your nipple was almost too much. You could feel your orgasm building, a tight coil in your stomach.
"Not yet," Billy growled, pulling away just as you were about to tip over the edge. He looked up at you, his chin glistening with your arousal. "I want to feel you come on my cock." He positioned himself at your entrance, teasing you with just the head, pushing in slightly before pulling back out. "Please, Billy," you begged, pulling off Stu's cock for a moment to gasp the words.
"Since you asked so nicely," he smirked, and then he was pushing into you, a slow, deliberate stretch that burned in the best way. He didn't stop until he was buried to the hilt, his pelvis flush against yours. He held still for a moment, letting you adjust, his dark eyes locked on yours. "Fuck, you're tight." He started to move then, a slow, deep grind that hit a spot deep inside you that made your toes curl. Each thrust was deliberate, powerful, designed to drive you insane.
Stu took the opportunity to slide his cock back into your waiting mouth, his hips setting a matching rhythm. You were trapped between them, filled from both ends, a perfect, willing vessel for their pleasure. Jennifer, still perched on your stomach, began to rock her hips, sliding her wet folds against your skin, Billy put two fingers in her cunt feeling how wet she was. She leaned down, her mouth finding yours in a messy, three-way kiss with you and Stu. "You look so good like this," she panted against your lips. "All full of cock."
Billy's pace began to quicken, his thrusts becoming harder, more erratic he started stroking Jen with his fingers even faster. He reached down with his other hand , his thumb finding your clit and rubbing it in tight, fast circles. "Come for me, y/n," he demanded, his voice rough with lust. "Come all over my fucking cock." That was all it took. The coil in your stomach snapped, and your orgasm crashed through you, a blinding, all-consuming wave of pleasure. You cried out, your back arching off the roof as your walls clenched around Billy's length.
Billy followed you over the edge with a guttural groan, his hips stuttering as he spilled himself deep inside you, and took his fingers out of Jen. Stu wasn't far behind, pulling out of your mouth and fisting his cock, his come painting your lips and chin in hot, sticky stripes. Jennifer, with a final, sharp cry, came against your stomach, her body trembling with the force of her release.
For a long moment, the four of you just stayed there, a tangled, breathless heap under the stars. The only sounds were your ragged breaths and the distant hum of the town below. Then, with a coordinated effort that was both clumsy and intimate, you disentangled yourselves and collapsed onto the slightly flatter part of the roof, a mess of naked limbs and sated smiles.
"Okay," Jen said, her voice husky as she laid her head on your stomach. "That was better than getting high."
Billy just chuckled, pulling you and Jen both against his chest as Stu curled up behind you, his arm thrown over everyone. "Told you," he said, his voice smug and content. "Who cares about a little danger?"
Hello, my name is Nadin. I’m from Gaza. I’m a graphic design graduate, a wife—and now, a mother.
I finished my design studies just before the war began. I had dreams of starting a small studio, of creating art that told stories. I used to think about colors and fonts and the future.
Then, the war came. And the future became something we tried to hold onto, moment by moment.
On October 22, 2023, I learned I was pregnant when a missile destroyed my husband’s family home, killing 25 members—his mother, siblings, nieces and nephews—entire branches of our family in seconds.
We were displaced twice. Everything was gone—home, safety, routine, rest.
A few weeks later, I gave birth to our daughter. There was no crib, no celebration—not even stillness. But she arrived, quietly and beautifully. In her eyes I saw something I hadn’t felt in weeks: life that still wanted to grow.
Now, our days are shaped by decisions that could dismantle the future we are trying to build together.
Today, Israel’s government is discussing plans for a full military occupation of the Gaza Strip, including Gaza City and southern regions. The stated aim: to eliminate Hamas and later hand governing control to allied Arab forces—not Israel—but with no clear path to peace or normalcy.
The humanitarian fallout is devastating. More than 61,000 Palestinians have died in this war; hunger and malnutrition are rising sharply. Hospitals in north Gaza have shut down, and 193 people have now died of starvation, nearly half of them children.
Aid remains blocked, water is scarce, and many risk dying of hunger or disease long before future promises arrive.
We Don’t Know What Comes Next
There’s no clear path forward—only uncertainty for our daughter’s life and our ability to survive another day.
My name is Nadin, and I’m a mother from Gaza.
How You Can Help
I’m asking for support—not for comfort, but for survival:
Help us meet basic needs so we can breathe, heal, and preserve a world for our daughter.
Support us as I try to stand again on my own feet—even a glimmer of stability matters.
If you’ve read this far, thank you. If you can give—thank you. If you can’t—just sharing this post is a lifeline I will never forget.
At last! Here it is! Creeping up once again, Multi-May!
MULTI-MAY IS COMING BACK ONCE AGAIN!
Once again, lets talk about it FAQ style!
What is Multi-May? It is a writing event I host to help put back into the community what I want to see more of, polyam and non-mono focused fic!
Why is Multi-May? I am a polyamorous and bisexual person and have known this about myself for over half my life now, without people making art about polyamory I might not have ever realized this about myself. Seeing that representation was huge, and so I still find it extremely important to have it out there so, I made this event to encourage and foster this kind of creative work that I desperately want to see more of and view as vitally important. It brings me untold joy, too.
How many times have you done this? 2026 is the fourth year in a row I am doing this.
When is Multi-May? The entire month of May!
Can anyone get involved? You sure can! I have a small pool that I write for, but this event is to spread the love for more of this kind of fic in fandom OVERALL.
How do I participate? Easy! Write any sort of flavour of non-monogamy or polyamory fic that you want, tag is Multi-May and PLEASE tag me so I can see it! Any and all Multi-May fic regardless of fandom I WILL read and reblog! Fandom blind, I don't care, I am here for it!
What if I don't write? No fear here, show your love any creative way you can, draw, make edits, gif-sets, aesthetics, collages, playlists, headcanon posts, I personally just write for it, but don't feel limited! Still tag me writing or no!
And if I don't have the time, energy, space, or ability to create this Multi-May but still want to be involved? Perfectly understandable, so the best way to be involved comes in the form of hyping others up! I cannot overstate the importance of engaging, even if you are not making stuff yourself, you can comment or reblog others work, even recc some of your fave polyam works, even talk about your fave polyam! ships.
We are a month out, let's gear up for a good Multi-May! Spread the word and let's have fun!
Billy’s voice is almost gentle when he looks at Sidney. “What’s wrong?” he asks softly. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Sidney doesn’t answer. She just stands there, forcing her breathing to slow, forcing her spine straight. She refuses to crumble in front of them.
A dragging sound cuts through the house. Heavy. Slow. All of them turn.
Stu stumbles in from the hallway, grinning too wide, hauling something across the floor like it’s a prop.
Except it isn’t.
He shoves the body forward, and it rolls onto the living room rug.
Sidney’s father.
Bound. Gagged. Eyes wide with terror—but alive.
“Daddy!”
Sidney moves without thinking, but Billy’s arm shoots out, stopping her cold.
“Close enough,” he says.
Stu crouches and slips the cellular phone neatly into Mr. Prescott’s shirt pocket, almost playfully. “Guess I won’t be needing this anymore,” he says.
Sidney looks between them, then at Y/N.
Y/N stands a little apart from the boys, calmer, quieter. Watching. Measuring. “Why are you doing this?” Sidney demands. Stu spreads his hands. “It’s part of the game,” he explains.
Billy’s smile sharpens. “Guess how I’m going to die,” he challenges.
“Fuck you,” Sidney whispers.
Billy’s eyes flash. “We already played that game. You lost,” he reminds her.
Y/N steps forward slightly now, her voice cool and steady.
“You have to play, Sid. Wouldn’t want to disappoint your dad,” she advises. Sidney looks at her like she doesn’t recognize her anymore. “You’ll never get away with this,” she vows. Billy laughs. “We already did. Cotton Weary? That was easy,” he scoffs.
“We watched movies,” Stu adds proudly. “Took notes,” he boasts.
“Planned,” Y/N corrects quietly.
Sidney turns back to Billy, jaw trembling but voice steady. “Why did you kill my mother?” she asks.
Billy smiles at that—slow and ugly.
“She was sleeping with my dad,” he says. “She broke my family apart,” he accuses. The air changes. Even Stu quiets. “You took my mother,” Billy continues, “so I took yours,” he declares. Sidney sways slightly, but she doesn’t fall.
Y/N watches her closely. There’s no mockery in her expression now—only focus.
Billy glances at the clock.
“After midnight,” he says. “Anniversary time,” he announces.
He picks up the butcher knife and turns to Stu.
“Ready?” he asks.
Stu nods, but he looks a little pale. Billy plunges the knife into Stu’s side. Stu screams, He drops to his knees, blood spreading fast and dark.
Y/N moves immediately.
“Not that deep!” she snaps, grabbing Billy’s wrist before he can twist the blade further. She yanks the knife out herself, pressing her hand hard against Stu’s side to slow the bleeding.
“You’re supposed to look attacked, not die,” she hisses.
Stu blinks up at her, breathing hard. “Jesus—” he gasps.
“You stay to the side,” she says firmly. “Avoid arteries. Avoid the abdomen. Surface wounds. We talked about this,” she instructs.
Billy wipes sweat from his forehead, slightly dazed from adrenaline.
“Relax,” he mutters.
“Relax?” Y/N shoots back. “You just went straight through muscle,” she points out.
She shoves the knife back at Stu.
“Your turn. Controlled,” she commands.
Stu takes it, hands shaking. He stabs Billy—but too low. Billy doubles over with a strangled noise.
Y/N curses under her breath and grabs the knife again before Stu can make it worse.
“You two are idiots,” she mutters.
She demonstrates—slicing Billy’s arm cleanly, shallow but bloody.
“Like that,” she says. “Painful. Not fatal,” she explains.
Billy glares at her but doesn’t argue. He’s breathing too hard.
Stu is swaying now, color draining from his face.
“Okay,” Y/N says sharply. “That’s enough. No more,” she decides. “But we need—” Stu starts.
“We need to survive,” she cuts in. “You pass out, you ruin everything,” she warns. Billy looks toward the foyer table. “The gun,” he realizes.
Stu stumbles toward it.
“It’s not here,” he reports.
Billy limps over, panic creeping into his voice. “What do you mean it’s not here?” he demands.
“Looking for this?”
They turn.
Gale stands in the doorway, battered but upright, holding the gun steady. For a split second, Billy looks genuinely shocked. “I thought she was dead,” he says in an annoyed tone.
“She looked dead,” Stu mutters weakly.
Y/N’s eyes narrow. Calculating.
Gale’s grip tightens. “I’ve got an ending for you. Reporter left for dead comes back and ruins the killers’ big finale,” she declares.
Sidney steps closer to her father.
“I like that ending,” she says quietly.
Billy lunges. Gale pulls the trigger.
Click.
Nothing.
Y/N’s eyes flash.
“Safety,” she says under her breath.
Billy slams the door hard, catching Gale in the face and knocking her backward onto the porch.
She goes down.
Silence crashes into the room.
Stu lets out a shaky laugh. “Cool move,” he comments.
Billy’s voice is almost gentle when he looks at Sidney. “What’s wrong?” he asks softly. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Sidney doesn’t answer. She just stands there, forcing her breathing to slow, forcing her spine straight. She refuses to crumble in front of them.
A dragging sound cuts through the house. Heavy. Slow. All of them turn.
Stu stumbles in from the hallway, grinning too wide, hauling something across the floor like it’s a prop.
Except it isn’t.
He shoves the body forward, and it rolls onto the living room rug.
Sidney’s father.
Bound. Gagged. Eyes wide with terror—but alive.
“Daddy!”
Sidney moves without thinking, but Billy’s arm shoots out, stopping her cold.
“Close enough,” he says.
Stu crouches and slips the cellular phone neatly into Mr. Prescott’s shirt pocket, almost playfully. “Guess I won’t be needing this anymore,” he says.
Sidney looks between them, then at Y/N.
Y/N stands a little apart from the boys, calmer, quieter. Watching. Measuring. “Why are you doing this?” Sidney demands. Stu spreads his hands. “It’s part of the game,” he explains.
Billy’s smile sharpens. “Guess how I’m going to die,” he challenges.
“Fuck you,” Sidney whispers.
Billy’s eyes flash. “We already played that game. You lost,” he reminds her.
Y/N steps forward slightly now, her voice cool and steady.
“You have to play, Sid. Wouldn’t want to disappoint your dad,” she advises. Sidney looks at her like she doesn’t recognize her anymore. “You’ll never get away with this,” she vows. Billy laughs. “We already did. Cotton Weary? That was easy,” he scoffs.
“We watched movies,” Stu adds proudly. “Took notes,” he boasts.
“Planned,” Y/N corrects quietly.
Sidney turns back to Billy, jaw trembling but voice steady. “Why did you kill my mother?” she asks.
Billy smiles at that—slow and ugly.
“She was sleeping with my dad,” he says. “She broke my family apart,” he accuses. The air changes. Even Stu quiets. “You took my mother,” Billy continues, “so I took yours,” he declares. Sidney sways slightly, but she doesn’t fall.
Y/N watches her closely. There’s no mockery in her expression now—only focus.
Billy glances at the clock.
“After midnight,” he says. “Anniversary time,” he announces.
He picks up the butcher knife and turns to Stu.
“Ready?” he asks.
Stu nods, but he looks a little pale. Billy plunges the knife into Stu’s side. Stu screams, He drops to his knees, blood spreading fast and dark.
Y/N moves immediately.
“Not that deep!” she snaps, grabbing Billy’s wrist before he can twist the blade further. She yanks the knife out herself, pressing her hand hard against Stu’s side to slow the bleeding.
“You’re supposed to look attacked, not die,” she hisses.
Stu blinks up at her, breathing hard. “Jesus—” he gasps.
“You stay to the side,” she says firmly. “Avoid arteries. Avoid the abdomen. Surface wounds. We talked about this,” she instructs.
Billy wipes sweat from his forehead, slightly dazed from adrenaline.
“Relax,” he mutters.
“Relax?” Y/N shoots back. “You just went straight through muscle,” she points out.
She shoves the knife back at Stu.
“Your turn. Controlled,” she commands.
Stu takes it, hands shaking. He stabs Billy—but too low. Billy doubles over with a strangled noise.
Y/N curses under her breath and grabs the knife again before Stu can make it worse.
“You two are idiots,” she mutters.
She demonstrates—slicing Billy’s arm cleanly, shallow but bloody.
“Like that,” she says. “Painful. Not fatal,” she explains.
Billy glares at her but doesn’t argue. He’s breathing too hard.
Stu is swaying now, color draining from his face.
“Okay,” Y/N says sharply. “That’s enough. No more,” she decides. “But we need—” Stu starts.
“We need to survive,” she cuts in. “You pass out, you ruin everything,” she warns. Billy looks toward the foyer table. “The gun,” he realizes.
Stu stumbles toward it.
“It’s not here,” he reports.
Billy limps over, panic creeping into his voice. “What do you mean it’s not here?” he demands.
“Looking for this?”
They turn.
Gale stands in the doorway, battered but upright, holding the gun steady. For a split second, Billy looks genuinely shocked. “I thought she was dead,” he says in an annoyed tone.
“She looked dead,” Stu mutters weakly.
Y/N’s eyes narrow. Calculating.
Gale’s grip tightens. “I’ve got an ending for you. Reporter left for dead comes back and ruins the killers’ big finale,” she declares.
Sidney steps closer to her father.
“I like that ending,” she says quietly.
Billy lunges. Gale pulls the trigger.
Click.
Nothing.
Y/N’s eyes flash.
“Safety,” she says under her breath.
Billy slams the door hard, catching Gale in the face and knocking her backward onto the porch.
She goes down.
Silence crashes into the room.
Stu lets out a shaky laugh. “Cool move,” he comments.
Summary: Smoke and Annie’s first morning as a married couple.
Contains: morning sex, oral (m receiving), squirting, unprotected piv, breeding if you squint, fluff and smut
A/N: Happy Valentine’s Day from my favorite married couple!
This is a companion to The Proposal, but it could also be read as a standalone 😊
Sunlight poked in through the windows, and Annie's eyes fluttered open. She rolled over to see her husband, who was awake already, a smile on his face. She chuckled to herself. It was good to see him like this. "Whatcha lookin' at?"
"My wife." He propped himself up on his elbow. "You sleep good?"
"Real good. That is, when you let me," she laughed, remembering the previous night.
He laughed a little, too. "You know, you even prettier when you sleep."
She smiled. "Am I now?"
"Mm-hm." He took her in his arms and kissed her. He put his tongue in her mouth, feeling himself starting to get hard. He wanted to make her feel how much he loved her, how grateful he was to have her for the rest of his life.
Annie could feel the growing bulge in his pants, and she felt her own arousal growing. The desire coursed through her body as they kissed.
"You wanna know the best part 'bout bein' married?" asked Smoke in between kisses.
"What?"
"We can do this whenever we like now." He kissed that sweet spot on her neck, then began to suck it. Softly, she moaned, feeling herself going slack in his arms. Then she reached down to feel how hard he was. Even through the thin fabric, she could feel him throbbing in her hand.
Smoke felt a chill pass through him as she touched him, and he squeezed his eyes shut and let out a groan. "I need you, Annie."
"I need you, too."
He took her nightgown off, Annie lifting her arms to aid him. He lifted her breasts to his mouth, kissing each nipple before he took it into his mouth. He could never get enough of them. She pressed her thighs together on instinct. He reached between her thighs, rubbing a finger along her slit. "Already so wet, baby."
"All for you, Elijah."
He began to roll her onto her back, but she stopped him. She wanted to try something first. "Lie back."
There wasn't even a question in his mind. He'd do anything she told him. So he lay back as she kissed his way down her body. As she kissed his lower belly, she could hear his breath hitch and feel a slight twitch. She smiled to herself as she dragged his pants down. His dick popped free, and she wrapped her hand around it, feeling its weight.
She began licking the tip, and he threw his head back onto the pillows and moaned. "Ooh, shit."
Slowly, she took him into her mouth. "That's it, breathe through ya nose....."
He buried his hands in her hair as she bobbed up and down his shaft. She loved how full her mouth was with him. "Fuck, Annie...."
She sank a little lower, her throat convulsing in a gag. She realized she had overestimated how much of him she could really take in her mouth. "That's alright, now, baby. Don't force it." Sitting up a little, he reached over to play with her dripping pussy.
"You trust me, right?" he asked.
She nodded. "Alright, then, keep ya head still."
Holding onto the back of her head, he began to thrust into her mouth. Her eyes watered as he hit the back of her throat, and she tried to keep breathing through it. When she gagged a little more forcefully, she pulled off for air. "Did so good, baby." He brought her up to him and kissed her.
Smoke wanted to return the favor, but Annie was already reaching for his dick again, so he rolled her over onto her side and hooked one of her legs over his hip, opening her up to him. "I'mma make you feel real good now."
He rubbed the tip of his dick up and down her slit, hearing her breath quicken as he did. She held onto the back of his neck. He pushed in almost agonizingly slow, and she gasped. She could feel him stretching her, filling her up in all the right ways.
His thrusts were slow and steady. He didn't want to rush this. As far as he was concerned, he had all the time in the world, and he wanted to take his time enjoying her. The sounds of her wet pussy and her moans were music to his ears.
With the angle, he was hitting that spot inside her almost effortlessly. All Annie could do was lie there awaiting his powerful thrusts. He licked his finger, reached around, and rubbed her clit in slow, punishing circles. "Oh, God..... Elijah.... fuck...."
He took her chin in his hand, turned her head toward him, and kissed her. Between his slow, deep strokes, and the way he was touching her, she could feel the pleasure building and building until she thought she might burst.
He could feel her squeezing around him. Her legs were starting to shake. He looked into her glassy eyes as he whispered, "I'm right here, don't hold back." And when it hit her, she screamed, small spurts of liquid coming out of her. Smoke loved the feeling of her soaking his thighs. "Mm-hm. Let that shit go."
Her thighs were still shaking a little, but he kept stroking her at that same brutal pace, pinching her nipples as he fucked her. He wasn't too far from his own orgasm, his hips stuttering, his breathing getting ragged. He turned her head to him and kissed her again, and he flooded her, moaning into her mouth. He thrust into her a few more times, fucking his cum back into her as it dripped out.
He pulled out and rolled away from her. They were both sweaty and wrecked now, and Annie could hardly think straight. "That was.... that was....." she began.
He smoothed her hair back from her sweaty forehead. "Sh, sh, don't try to talk right now." He pulled the covers back and got up. "Stay right there."
He left the room, then returned with a wet cloth and gently wiped her down. The sun was brighter now. Annie looked at him through half-lidded eyes and smiled. He took her into his arms once again, feeling the warmth of her body against his. "I love you so much," she whispered.
"I love you, too."
She lay in his arms, her head in his chest. He was solid, and strong, and sure, and most importantly, he was there. And she knew he always would be.
