“I'm Just Saying It's A Hot Idea,” You Shrink Further Into The Corner Of The Sofa, Oblivious To

“I'm just saying it's a hot idea,” You shrink further into the corner of the sofa, oblivious to the ecstatic look Stu gives Billy over your shoulder. “Adrenaline and fear can make you horny you know, not that I want to be chased by Michael Myers or anything, just the whole chase thing-, it’s just a hot thought.”

It is. It is a hot thought. Can I request Billy or Stu, or both, chasing reader down?

A drabble of Predator/Prey kink with Stu.

18+ F!Reader. Dubcon/noncon, poorly thought out dubiously consented cnc, rough sex, abusive relationships. Not proof read.

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“What?”

“It'll be fun. I've even got a mask,” Stu holds up the wolf mask with a wide grin. It’s obviously a cheap dollar store Halloween thing, more comical than scary but you don’t comment on it. “Appropriate right?” His hand drops, sighing when you don’t respond. “C’mon bunny you said you were into it.”

“I am. I just didn't-," 

“Is it the wolf thing? I have a hockey mask, I could- I could be Jason instead?” He trails his hand over the knife block on the kitchen counter, a sudden tension in his shoulders.

“Pretty sure Jason used a machete. And here I thought you were a fan.” The thought of Stu chasing you down in the dark with a knife is terrifying compared to him in a cheap wolf mask but you try to keep control of your sudden nerves in case he notices.

“I am. It was a knife in the first film.” He’s momentarily distracted from his knife perusal as he looks back up at you, looking slightly offended at your little dig.

“Yeah and that wasn’t Jason,” You stick your tongue out at him. “You don’t really have the figure for Pamela.”

“Fine, good point.” He raises his hands up in surrender. He looks oddly relieved but the grin doesn’t falter as he picks the wolf mask back up. “Wolf it is.”

It falls silent, Stu watching and obviously waiting for you to say something. He clicks his tongue when you don’t. “You don’t need to be embarrassed. It's just us babe, for miles around. No one will know.”

That's not reassuring but despite the evening’s potential activity being abruptly sprung on you as soon as you walked in his front door, you can’t deny the small frisson of interest and he's practically vibrating with how excited he is, it’s infectious.

“Don't wolves hunt in packs?”

Stu’s smile drops slightly. “He's busy.”

“Does he know at least? He'll be annoyed we’re having fun without him.”

“So? He’s hot when he’s annoyed. Hot and bossy.” Stu’s grin returns as he waggles his eyebrows at you. “Just means more fun for us after he finds out.”

“I don't know-,”

“C’mon,” He repeats a hint of frustration in his tone. “It's your kink. I'm trying to do something nice here.”

“Stu-,”

“Isn't it? Thought you wanted the big bad monster to chase you through the woods?” He steps closer, eyes narrowing and your breath catches in your throat. He stared at you, blue eyes growing darker and you felt a mix of fear and arousal stirring in your belly. “To catch you, pin you down and fuck your brains out right there in the dirt?”

“Stu-,” you huff. You're tempted, very much so but there's something about Stu chasing you down that has you hesitating. He had a tendency to take things too far.

“I want a safe word.”

“What?”

“A safe word. Its-,”

“I know what it is bunny.” He tilts his head. “I meant why?”

“Just in case. If it gets a little overwhelming? It wo-,”

He rolls his eyes at you. “You don't need a safe word, it's only a game.”

“I know bu-,”

“You say stop I'll stop alright?”

You shift your weight, crossing your arms and trying not to snap at him for the repeated interruptions. “….Alright.” You’re not happy about that but you guess it’s better than nothing. You eye the mask warily. “So I just what? Run?” You try to ignore the little tinge of apprehension, focusing instead on your growing arousal. “Doesn’t seem fair.”

“Thought that was what you wanted?”

“You said it’s a game,” You bite back a smile at his slight frown, obviously a little unhappy at you twisting his words back against him. “”So I must be able to win somehow.”

“If you can make it to the old barn on the other side of the woods,” He shrugs. “You win.”

“Win what?”

His eyes narrow. “You won’t.”

“I might. I’m fast,” You tilt your head as you think, a move he mirrors, making you feel even more unsettled. “If I make it, I want a date.”

He opens his mouth to reply but you hold your hand up and he shuts it again with a roll of his eyes.

“A proper romantic date. I want candles, flowers, a movie of my choice, dinner of my choice and…” You pause, debating how far to push this. “I want you to be… nice.”

“I’m always nice.” He pouts, but huffs when all you dare is stare at him.

You hold your breath as he thinks, his eyes fluttering closed for a second. You think he’s going to back out, but the ego wins out.

“Deal. I’ll be nice.” His voice is low and you shiver, ever so slightly. “Well, run then.”

Stu leans back against the kitchen wall with his arms crossed over his chest, trying hard to look relaxed and nonchalant but you can see how tense he is, his eyes never leaving you.

“Now??” You swallow hard, anticipation and adrenaline making your heart skip a beat at how fast he was pushing this along. “What if you catch me? What’s your prize?”

“You are my prize,” He licks his lips, his gaze roaming over you. You shivered again but you stayed still. “Ten.”

“Seriously?”

“Nine,” he said this time, raising a questioning eyebrow at you as he finally slides the wolf mask over his face, the big ears and rubbery pointy teeth suddenly looking more threatening than they did. “I’d hurry up if I were you bunny. The wolf is hungry.” It was cheesy, cliché comment, but his voice is cold, devoid of his usual arrogance and it chills you to your core. “Better run, pretty thing.”

So you run. 

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Your muscles ached as you stumbled around a tree, trying to run as quick and quiet as possible. Your heart thumping wildly in your ears, your lungs burn with the effort of keeping yourself moving and it’s getting harder to breathe. It feels like you’ve run for miles, but you have a sneaking suspicion you haven’t got as far as you think you have. You don’t want to stop, but you have to, need to. You slow your pace, listening hard for any sounds of movement before stopping completely, ducking behind a tree and resting back against it, hands resting on your hips as you try to catch your breath for just a second. It’s quiet, barely any noise, save for your own heavy breathing.

“Ohhh we playing hide and seek now little rabbit? I know you're here.” Stu’s voice sends a chill down your spine, your hand flying to cover your mouth in an effort to stop the startled squeak that tries to escape you. You hadn’t even heard him approach, you know he can be quiet when he wants to be but the fact he managed to get so close scares you. He sounds excited, too excited.

You take a deep breath, sliding down the tree slowly in an effort to make yourself smaller, resisting the urge to take a peek.

You could hear him as he made his way closer; each step he took filling you with panicked excitement the closer and closer he came. The slightly manic urge to giggle threatening to overwhelm you as his boots thudded closer to your position, pausing briefly before he continued on with a call of your name.

You held your breath, an intense confusing amount of fear, anxiety and excitement keeping you frozen in place; you could hardly hear him over the pounding of your own heart.

His footsteps fade, and with a deep breath you take the opportunity to run, rising and taking off in the opposite direction.

You hear him immediately follow after you. Cursing yourself for moving too soon. He hadn’t been as far away as you’d thought but you don’t turn to look; you can’t afford to waste the time.

Another singsong call of your name has you stumbling; he’s so close behind you. Too close, you don’t want to stop but with your lungs burning and your aching muscles screaming at you to stop you’re definitely slowing down, and you know with a growing resignation that you’re not going to make it.

He catches you. You can’t help but scream as he grabs you, a sound of genuine fear but it cuts off abruptly as you hit the ground. His hand curls round the back of your head as he twists, taking the brunt of the fall but the fight is still stunned out of you for a moment. It’s tempting to surrender but his smug little chuckle fuels you. He’s won, you know it, he knows it, but you’re not going to make it easy on him, bucking your hips and twisting frantically to try and throw him off of you.

He swears as you knock his mask off, his hands closing tightly round your wrists and he brings them up above your head, using one hand to keep them there as he pushes himself between your legs, pinning you completely. Somehow you always forget how strong he is, his show of strength giving you a slightly unwanted rush of desire.

“Gotcha,” he teases. “Stay still.” He grunts as you try to scramble backward again, his fingers digging into your wrists. “The chase was fun little rabbit, but I want my prize.”

You don’t like the nickname; it feels more threatening and way less affectionate than bunny. He shoves your t-shirt up over your hips, your attempts to pull your hands from his grip earning you a sharp slap to your thigh.

“Still, that is your last warning.” He sounds annoyed and your panic develops a small hint of fear, making you freeze beneath him. It takes him undoing your jeans and tugging them down your thighs to make you move again.

“Stop,” you hiss. “Stu, time out. Stop.”

He doesn’t, he ignores you in favour of tugging at his own belt, and the fear takes over. You wrench your wrist from his grip, the need to have him just stop for a second helping you ignore the flare of pain as you do so. You slap him across the face without a second thought, his head snapping to the side.

He doesn’t speak, jaw clenching and swallowing hard as he keeps his gaze away from you. He inhales slowly, and in that split second it’s pure cold fear that runs down your spine. He looks back at you slowly, tongue probing at his lip, his hair dishevelled and his face flushed. He doesn’t look entirely present, his eyes are glassy as he stares at you but he gives you a grin as he wipes the back of his hand across his mouth. “Knew you'd get in to it.” 

 You kick out, pushing him back only slightly as you turn around onto your hands and knees, trying desperately to scramble away. He yanks you back hard by your jeans, pulling them further down your thighs and shoves you down onto your stomach, forcing himself between your knees as one hand presses between your shoulder blades to keep you still.

“Bunny,” Stu coos, and you tries not to bristle, irritated and ashamed, scared and turned on in one confusing mix. “I caught you.”

The use of your usual nickname is oddly calming, and the warm weight of Stu’s palm as it slides up your spine to rest across the nape of your neck makes you shiver.  

"I know you like it. Having no other choice but to take it like a good little girl?"  Stu finally broke the silence, his hand squeezed at your neck gently, thumb rubbing over your pulse, his voice dropping to a whisper as he leaned in close. "You need a big strong man to come pin you down, stretch you open, take what he wants and make you enjoy it?”

You could hear the smile on his face as he spoke, and it infuriated you beyond belief.  Your breath came out in short huffs as you tried to ignore the growing feeling of unease in your gut. This was morphing into a different type of game, one you were not sure you wanted to play. Not that you’d really thought through what he’d do when he caught you but this was a little more extreme than you had expected.

"Well?" His fingers flexed against your neck. "Say it. I want to hear you say it."

You wanted him to stop, to give you a minute to collect yourself but a part of you also wanted him to continue. None of those words escaped you though, instead you whined, defeated and aroused, and you could just see the wide grin of Stu’s mouth at your reaction.

He groans your name as his arm slides under you and across your stomach, raising your hips and forcing you onto your knees. His fingers dipping inside the hem of your panties and pulling them down to expose you to his hungry gaze. The sound of his zipper was enough to make you push your ass back toward him, drawing another low groan from him as he rocks his hips forward, the thick head of his cock rubbing up and down your folds.

“Billy would love this game,” He lands a hard slap on your ass, your pained cry turning into a breathy whimper as his fingers dipped between your legs and brushed over your clit. “Feel kinda bad now not telling him.”

“Slow,” you’re almost hyperventilating, reaching back to press a hand against his hip pointlessly. “Go slow please.”

He doesn’t say anything but he does seemingly listen to you, pushing forward slowly but firmly, drawing a hoarse gasp from you as he pushes inside. You wheezed out a moan, the breath stolen from your lungs as you were stretched. He didn't stop until he was buried in you to the hilt, the head of his cock grinding painfully against your cervix and your free hand snapping to his thigh in an effort to stop him. “Too much, Stu, don’t.” You expect him to ignore you, maybe a harsh thrust of his hips to torture you some more but he surprises you by stilling and waiting. You take a deep breath, trying once again to steady yourself as you waited for the burn of the stretch to wear off.

Stu rocks his hips slowly, testing you, obviously starting to get bored with waiting; your discomfort easing even more the moment Stu’s fingers seeked out your clit, brushing and teasing over the delicate nerves.

You bucked back into his hold, fingers digging into the dirt beneath you. He didn't let up, shushing you as you clenched around him. 

“Does it hurt?” You can’t speak; a whimper is the only response you give as he shifts his weight on top of you. “My poor bunny.” He grips your hip, holding you in place as he starts to fuck you with short hard thrusts. You can hear the scuffing of his boots digging into the ground, dried leaves and branches crackling beneath him as he shifts, trying to get a better angle, one he can’t seem to find as he mutters under his breath, finally looming over you, pressing his chest to your back and curling a hand around your throat.

Stu shudders at your choked noise. He’s going to cum, he’s going to cum too soon. He bites back at whine as he rolls his hips slower, trying to drag the whole thing out for as long as he can. You squirm a little, accompanied by short gasp of air and he moans in response. He likes it too much, likes being bigger and stronger than you, likes that you can’t stop him; that you can’t do anything about it.

“I could do anything to you right now bunny,” He pants. “No one – fuck – no one knows you’re here. I could I could-,” He cuts off with a low groan as he feels you cum around him, your moan turning into a strangled whine, your nails digging into his arm as your walls tightened around him. He wasn't going to last. His mind kept wandering to how soft you were, how fucking small you looked struggling under him, how powerful it made him feel. He leaned forward, letting go of your neck and nuzzling into you with a sudden desperate need to be closer.

His heart swells with the way you tilt your head to the side to expose more of your throat to him, but the rush of affection is overridden with morbid curiosity as he wonders what you’d do if he buried his teeth into your neck. You trust him too much, you trust him way more than he trusts himself. The sudden urge to hurt you making him feel a little nauseous, his thrusts faltering, his rising orgasm threatening to ebb away. He swallows hard, trying to shove the thoughts away as he leans back on his heels, staring at the red handprint he’s left on your right cheek, but they persist. Images of you that conflict confusingly in his head. You’d look so fucking pretty all bruised up and fucked out and bloody. That last image pushes him over the edge hard. His pace stopping abruptly, burying himself as deep in your cunt as he could as he emptied himself into you.

He makes a noise, something between a growl and a whimper, something he’d feel a little embarrassed about if he had been more aware as you go limp underneath him. Your elbows give out and he follows you down, his chest flush against your back and one hand next to your head, mindful not to crush you beneath his weight.

Stu exhales as he grinds slowly into you, a slow quivering breath as he mouths at your neck, over stimulated and overwhelmed with violent thoughts, a little prickle of self hatred creeping over him.

“I love you,” he whispers against your shoulder. “I love you so much I don’t know what to do about it sometimes.”

 “Love you too.” You mumble automatically. You mean it but your breath is shaky and it comes out a little choked, tears threatening to spill. You feel exposed, raw.

Stu closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, forcing himself to relax, trying to get control of his frenzied thoughts. You’re too much, your sounds, your scent, the feel of you wet and warm around his cock, he needs some distance. He shifts away from you, pulling his own clothes straight before he helps you stand but steps away while you clumsily pull your jeans and panties back up. You try not to wince at the damp sticky feeling between your thighs, desperate to get back to his house and a hot shower, focusing on the physical unpleasantness as way to try and ground yourself. You swallow hard and reach out for him, beckoning him over with trembling fingers.

He stays still and something sharp and painful stabs at your heart. 

“C’mon, need my big strong man to carry me home.”

His lips twitch but he still doesn't smile and butterflies swarm in your stomach, more than a little confused at what he’s thinking.  

“I wouldn't hurt you, like hurt you hurt you,” He sighs, sounding unsure, like he’s trying to reassure himself more than you. “You know that right?” 

“I- I know.” You don’t notice the way he flinches slightly at your stumbled words, too focused on trying to stand up right. Now the pleasure is ebbing you can feel the various aches and pains flaring to life. You’re sore all over, and your wrist is throbbing from where you’d pulled away from him. You’re going to be suffering for several days, you can already tell.

He just stares at you and you think he’s going to leave you there, because he would. You can’t walk back, your legs are still trembling and you feel incredibly vulnerable. He glances away from you at the quiet plea of his name, making tears prick at your eyes again and you suddenly desperately want him to hug you or hold your hand, for him to just touch you anywhere.  “Stu,” You beckon him over. “Help me, seriously.”

He watches you blankly for an uncomfortably long second before he blinks and the smug look and grin are back as he approaches, hooking an arm round your waist. “Always so needy.” Stu mumbled softly as he presses a kiss to your forehead, the soft stroking of his thumb along your hip bone soothing your frazzled nerves as he starts a slow pace back towards his house. He’s still quiet, unusually so, and you’re unable to gauge his true mood despite your constant glances at his face.

He seems almost annoyed, or even upset under the smug mask he’s projecting, his attitude not mixing well with how shaky and emotional you still feel. Had you done something wrong? “That was-,” Fun? Scary? Borderline terrifying? They all seem the wrong word.

“Was?” He prompts, finally glancing down at you but doesn’t say anything further.

“An experience.” It was hard to think, like a fog had settled over your mind, leaving you dazed and groggy. You force yourself to grin, shoving your confused feelings to the side. You need him to distract you, to reassure you. Of what you’re not sure, you just-, you swallow hard, you feel unsafe, oddly rejected. The realisation startles you, your fingers curling into his shirt as you try to push yourself closer to him.

He hums in response, fingers tightening against your hip slightly but it’s not enough; you need him to look at you, to talk to you. He seems reluctant to do either so you decide to go with a true and tested way to get Stu to engage with you. Annoying him. Turning into his chest and nipping sharply at his nipple through his shirt, making him grunt. “Maybe you can be the rabbit next time. Against Billy and me, you wouldn’t stand a chance.”

There’s a pause. A split second pause where you think he’s going to ignore you but then he sighs.

“No way in hell, you’re the bunny,” He snorts and relaxes against you, tugging your free hand up to his mouth to press a flurry of kisses over your fingers, nipping at your thumb. “I’m all wolf baby.”

“Wolf cub maybe,” Your smile is more genuine this time as his eyes narrow and he glares at you out the corner of his eye. “What? Long limbed, clumsy, hyper, you basically scream ‘puppy’.”

His fingers dig into your ribs, making you shriek but you curl into him rather than away, your laugh turning slightly hysterical as you swallow thickly around the rising tears again.

“I really didn’t get that far did I?” You eye the sight of his house with more than a little disappointment. It had felt like you’d ran for miles.

“You did great,” He presses a quick kiss to your temple. You’re upset, he can tell that much, but you’re trying to hide it. He doesn’t like it and he doesn’t know what to do about it.  “Hey.” He stops walking when you don’t respond, turning you round to face him. “You got pretty far. No need to cry about it.” He hesitates, momentarily distracted by the stray tear running down your cheek, pushing away the temptation to lick it up. His gaze flicks down to your mouth, trying to ignore the confusing feelings as well as fighting to suppress his frustration and desire for Billy to just fucking get here already and rescue him. “Stu-,” You’re wanting something from him but he doesn’t understand what it is, so he draws you into a kiss instead, hoping that he’s conveying all the mixed feelings he has for you in to it, that you can somehow understand from the slow glide of his tongue over yours that he wants to give you what you want, even if he doesn’t know how.