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hi!! loved your poly cassie x maddy x fem!reader hcs. super cute! could you maybe do prompts 86, 110, and 125 for them please?

ahh thanks! I can!!

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒! 86. 110. 125.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒! sick gals, cussing, nothing new

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒! I had so much fun writing this! on mobile, format might be weird. lowercase intended, unedited, double periods intended

poly!maddy and cassie x sick!fem!reader

it was winter, the week before christmas and maddy was sick. it sucked.

you and cassie had to sit at maddy's house every day taking care of her, making sure she ate enough and making sure she was hydrated

but you weren't allowed to kiss her.

it fucking sucked.

every day you would try to kiss her, trying to convince her you wouldn't get sick because of one kiss

the least she could do was give you her sweater.

so she did!

it was cold out, really fucking cold. you were sitting on maddy's bed with her next to you. your hand was placed gently on her thigh, rubbing small circles with your fingers. cassie was next to you, playing with the ends of your hair and humming a tune. maddy coughed into her elbow before groaning and falling back onto her pillows. you didnt mind winter, but it wasnt like you 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 the cold to travel through the walls and attack you. you were freezing. the heat was on, but you could still feel the cold air from outside. sure, it was only around 50 degrees out, but it was way too cold. you weren't ready for the cold weather that this year brought with the winter season.

"hey maddy?" she looked over you and hummed in response, tilting her head as a way to say 'yes?'. "𝘄𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗶𝘁 𝗯𝗲 𝗮𝗹𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗶𝗳 𝗜 𝗯𝗼𝗿𝗿𝗼𝘄𝗲𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘀𝘄𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗿? 𝗜𝘁 𝘀𝗺𝗲𝗹𝗹𝘀 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂". her face turns even more red than it was before and she giggles before nodding her head and taking her sweater off. "you know, you could have just said you're cold". you gasped, pretending to be offended. "I am 𝘯𝘰𝘵 cold!" she laughed at you and muttered a 'sure', dragging out the 'U'. she handed you the sweater that she took off a minute ago and watched as you put it over your head, thinking about how much she loves you.

the next day at school, you couldn't stop sneezing.

maddy didnt know, she was at home still

but cassie was worried

she couldn't take care of the both of you on her own!

"y/n, I mean it. you need to drink something, 𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝗿𝗲 𝗯𝘂𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘂𝗽!" you gave her a look and turned away, not wanting to admit that you're getting sick. you muttered an 'I'm fine' before getting up from your seat at the lunch table and almost falling over, before walking up to a vending machine and getting two bottles of water, one for you and one for cassie. you handed her the water and "got you a water". you sat back in your spot next to cassie and leaned your head on her shoulder.

a couple days later, you, cassie, and maddy were on your bed, the girls laying on either side of you with maddy on your right.

you were all high, each having smoked a joint (that you didnt share, dont share a j with sick people!)

you and cassie were laughing at something maddy said when cassie started coughing

"I'm not sick! I swear, I got checked at the doctors the other day!"

yeah right.

you believed her, but the next day, it happened again

you and cassie were on your bed, maddy was sitting on the floor in front of it, facing away from you. you were braiding her hair and cassie was laying next to you on her stomach. suddenly, she sneezed a couple times. "jesus, cass, you sure you're not sick?" her eyes went wide and she shook her head. "I'm not, I keep telling you!" you laughed at her behavior and rolled your eyes playfully. "yeah right, 𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝗿𝗲 𝗮 𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗿𝗶𝗯𝗹𝗲 𝗹𝗶𝗮𝗿."

soon enough, maddy gets better, then you, and then cassie.

it took you forever but you got better. very slowly, of course.

maybe dont take maddy's sweater next time.

why does bam look so slut in this oh my god

for the smut prompt list could i request tim laflour for 6 ? i’d also love if he was the sun in this one, i think it suits him. i love your fics, thank you !!

Absolutely!

6. “I want to hear you beg.”

Tim Laflour x Reader

You shut the door angrily behind you and a hand on his shoulder is all Tim needs to know to sink to his knees in front of you.

“All you had to do was let me finish my work and I would’ve taken care of you, baby,” you tell him, a hand under his jaw to keep him looking up at you.

“But you had to be a brat,” you scold, watching his face drop.

“I’m sorry! You look so pretty today, I just want you so bad, I’ll be good, miss,” he whines, nuzzling against your stomach.

“You’re still being a brat! You know you’re not supposed to touch without permission,” you remind him, smacking his hands away from where they’d wandered up your legs and under your skirt.

“M’sorry, ma’am,” He mumbles and sits back on his haunches, still pouting. You watch him squirm as you slowly unzip your dress and let it pool on the floor. His restlessness only amplifies when you send your bra and underwear to the floor with it. Perching yourself on the edge of the bed, you spread your legs and let him see how wet you already are. He groans as you dip a hand between your legs, tucking his hands under his thighs in an effort to keep them to himself.

“Something you want, baby?” You hum.

“Let me touch you, eat you out, anything,” he rambles.

You barely nod your approval before he’s diving face first into you and making you groan. You lean back on the bed, canting your hips towards his tongue that’s already working magic. He reaches up to palm your breast, his fingers working your nipple and creating a new point of pleasure. He suctions his mouth around your clit before rapidly flicking with his tongue as you weave your fingers into his hair. Your fingers tighten in his hair as he sucks, making him groan into your cunt before slipping in his fingers. The vibrations have you crying out and clenching his hair harder between your fingers, his moans in response creating a perfect feedback loop of pleasure. He has you seeing stars in no time, pushing you over the edge just as fast as he always does, though this time he doesn’t pull away. He continues lapping at your clit, his fingers still moving inside you in an effort to make up for his earlier indiscretions. You curse as he quickly works you into another leg shaking orgasm, your body unsure of whether to pull away or push closer. You ride out your high, releasing his hair and smoothing your fingers down his cheek as you breathe heavily.

“Such a good boy for me,” you murmur as he sits back, wiping off his chin. He squirms as he watches your chest heave, shifting uncomfortably on his knees.

“I thought that was what you wanted?” You raise your eyebrow, watching him pout.

“I- I just t-thought, maybe-“ he stammers, unable to tear his eyes away from your naked form.

“You thought what? That I was going to fuck you? After how bad you’ve been today? I don’t think so,” You grab his jaw, forcing him to look at your face.

“Strip and get on the bed,” you cut him off as he starts to stutter out an answer.

“I might even let you come after that performance,” you’ve never truly denied him and you don’t really plan to today, but he doesn’t know that.

He’s off his knees and shedding clothes in seconds, your stern face cracking as he tries to kick off his pants and boxers at the same time, tripping and falling onto the bed.

He scrambles to sit against the pillows, waiting for your next move. You crawl between his legs, scratching your nails lightly up his thighs where you find his erection is deep red and leaking, and you know it won’t take much to send him over the edge.

“Looks painful, baby,” you murmur, ghosting a finger along his length, making him whimper. You suck a mark over his hipbone, pressing kisses to his stomach but avoiding where he really wants you. He’s watching you with rapt attention but he still lets out a strangled moan of surprise when you lick him from base to tip and play with his jewelry. You roll the balls of his piercing around with your tongue, making his hands clench into the bedsheets. He cries out as you take him fully in your mouth, already babbling and moaning underneath you.

“I’m already close- gonna.. ah! Can I-” He rambles out, his eyes clenched shut and eyebrows drawn together.

“Do you think you deserve to come?” You ask, your breath fanning over him teasingly as you work him with your hand, “I wanna hear you beg for it.”

“Please! Please, I’m sorry for being a brat, please let me come, miss. I need it so bad,” he whimpers, clearly trying to hold himself back from coming without permission.

“Do you, baby? I’m not sure, you haven’t been on very good behavior today..” you muse, leisurely stroking him as he whines.

“Ahhh, please! I’m so sorry, please,” he sounds absolutely pitiful, his knuckles white in the sheets as you thumb over his head.

“Okay baby, go ahead,” you barely get your mouth on him again before he’s coming, a stream of “thank you’s” falling from his lips as you work him through it. You crawl up next to him, letting him cuddle up to you while you stroke his hair out of his face.

“You did so good, such a good boy for me,” you praise as his breathing returns to normal.

“I love you,” you tell him before he falls asleep, your heart swelling as he mumbles a sleepy “I love you, too” into your skin with a kiss and snuggles closer to you.

oh okay wow my followers doubled since the last time I looked at them I was not expecting that,,, TYSM 😻😻😻

Hey there! If your request are still open, can I ask something about König being married to a very caring and lovely civilian wife and having a one year's old little girl?

I love this big boy very much and I think he deserves having a family like this!

Thank you!

Ordinary Things Like Love

Lips against his, drowning in the trench of your spilling glory, swallowing your sounds and basking under the unfurling burn of desire.

König has fitted himself to you, curling over the bent of your back just as the black of the night weaves itself to the moon. Every night changing, every night willing.

or: König is a husband and a father.

an: i like this big boy with mommy issues, also their kid isn't one-year-old but everything else should follow the request!

i. König finds love in the shape of your hands, oozing with care and ready to cradle he who has done nothing but harm. Arms spread, prepared to catch him as he crashes back into the stratosphere of home with the trailblaze of war still shadowing his silhouette.

He finds love in your hands, the lined mosaic that time has made of your flesh. Fingers laced, your thumb brushing over the junction of his index and thumb as the warm light of morning washes its golden kiss across your skin.

Lips against his, drowning in the trench of your spilling glory, swallowing your sounds and basking under the unfurling burn of desire.

He has fitted himself to you, curling over the bent of your back just as the black of the night weaves itself to the moon. Every night changing, every night willing.

"G'morning, love," your voice cracks with a yawn, light against the expanse of your back. Your spine arches, dips like a flowing river in the garden of Eden.

Your eyes swim calmly, safe, content, and best of all, happy.

A hand reaches towards his chest, pressing it against where his heart hammers to the beat of yours. When you near him, he presses a kiss to your nose and revels in the laugh that it earns him.

Whispering, he mouths against the fragility of peace in your bedroom. "Sit up, sunflower. I have your breakfast."

—

ii. König finds traces of godhood in the mundane fancies that grace the four walls of home. In the coffee as he waits for it to cool, in the tender ache of his thighs from a night of loving, in the gentle roll of the creek— in the magic love has done to this wretched house.

These are the walls that birthed him, where his parents screamed till their throats bled hurt.

These are the floorboards that raised him, scarred brittle child bones, the very same that crumbled his boyhood and made it a story for the news.

The front page headline burnt in the back of his eyelids read: 29-year-old woman taken into custody for charges of abuse against 8-year-old son.

Now, mortality is not so much a sin as it is a fact of normalcy. He does not have to plead to every atom that composes the holy breath of god to help him when the door creaks open and his mother's footsteps sound from the entrance.

"Vati!" A voice calls, all young and warm. König looks over to see his daughter's mudded feet by the doorway, hair tousled, grin wide and spirit alive.

He feels a little guilty for the envy that aches in his chest but, most of all, he is relieved that he and his daughter do not have matching wounds.

The ones he bears are enough.

If he'd been crucified with his mother's rage to spare his own child the burden then it'd all been well and worth it.

(He'd do it all over again. A thousand times.)

"Look what I found, Vati! Look! Look!" She holds up a green cat eye marble, a speck of sun running across the jade sphere.

He covers a chuckle, pools of blue creasing as he rises from his seat with a quiet grunt. "I'll be right there, petal."

She frowns up at him, strands of hair the same shade as yours covering a portion of her soft face, a crease in her brow that König has half the thought to smooth a finger over. "Where's Mutter?"

"Mama is sleeping, darling."

"But Mama is always awake to cook me breakfast!" There's a pout in her voice, as if a fundamental part of life has been pulled from her feet without warning.

"Not when I'm home, petal." His answering smile makes the argument dwindle down, as if he's just instilled another law of physics as true as the sun rising with angel wings across the horizon.

"But I wanna show her what I found.." she mumbles as he lifts her up to sit on the wide planes of his shoulders.

"We'll show her later, darling," he says, thinking of your bare skin hidden under soft bed sheets. "Now, tell papa what you've been busying yourself with all morning."

—

iii. König finds peace at the sight of you peeling clementines, bathed in the warm slanted light of afternoon gold as it floods the house through the windows.

"Welcome back, you two." Your voice leads him like spring, pulling him in through the vines you've rooted in his heart.

Through the cracks of his ribs, flowers bloom. Rosemary, lavender, bluebells, sunflowers.

Your kisses ruin him, mortal hands coming to cup his cheeks, running your palms across his stubble to hold the curve of his jaw.

And then finally, finally, you kiss him. Molding your lips to rest against his, the taste of citrus on your tongue and the smell of clementine on your breath. His soul blooms, and König is half-convinced he had never truly lived before you.

That he had unknowingly been starving before you fed him with the ripe harvest of spring.

"Blegh!" Your daughter breaks the moment, hands slapped across her eyes and the two of you part brimming with laughter.

König thinks, holding his daughter and his wife, that this must be what love feels like.

Ordinary things that you long will never end.

—

iv. An unsent letter hidden under a drawer reads:

Hello, mother

You have not raised me with love.

But know that I have made something of your violence, of the boy you left at grandmother's doorstep.

You will not be invited to my wedding. But know that it'll be beautiful. It'll be beautiful because it is her who I will be waiting at the altar for.

It'll be beautiful because she is nothing like you.

Truly, your son.

Hi! Could you maybe write something with Stu Macher. Where Stu and reader are watching horror movies and reader gets scared and Stu puts his arm around her to comfort her?! ☺️ just some really fluffy stuff

oh my gosh this is so cute I love stu macher... may not be as fluffy as you wanted but I tried!!

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒! horror movie, cussing, stu being touchy-feely, makeout session at the end, kinda but not really steamy

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒! again, doing this on mobile so the format may be weird. lowercase intended, double periods intended.

stu macher x fem!reader

you and stu had been dating for quite some time. by now, you had a routine together

every friday night you would go to his house to watch a movie, and you would pick what you watched.

but tonight was different

earlier, you and stu were talking in the hallways at school and a girl came up to him, asking if she could get his number

you were dumbfounded, how could she not have known you were his girlfriend?

I mean, his hand was literally on your ass cheek when she walked up

the girl must have had a serious death wish or something

you were leaning against your locker after your second-to-last class of the day, joined by your loving boyfriend stu. it was too hot for your liking, you were sweating and you didn't want to be too close to anyone, but stu loves physical affection. so do you! but when it's hot out, you don't like the way skin feels against yours. so, you settled on having his hand on your waist. every so often he would lower his hand and squeeze your butt, but you didn't mind. the others had just left, going off somewhere to talk about the killings that were happening in your town. you never liked to talk about it, you knew stu and billy were the killers, so you had no reason to theorize who may or may not be the killer, even if it made you look suspicious. stu knew that, and he didn't want to leave you by yourself so he offered to stay behind with you.

you grabbed his hand and pulled it up, attaching it to your waist. you gave him a pointed look and giggled as he kissed your cheek. a girl walked up, a pretty one. you got nervous but calmed down a bit when you felt stu's hand move lower. he was showing that you were his. normally, you wouldn't like this too much but right now, you loved it. "hey! I was wondering.. you're like, really hot, can I get your number?" your brows furrowed, confused by the girl's audacity. "yeah, no. I got this pretty lady, so I'm fine." you blushed and buried your head in his chest, laughing at him calling you a pretty lady. the girl rolled her eyes and walked away, mumbling a 'whatever'. stu looked at you and lifted your chin to look at him before connecting your lips and wrapping his arms around you. suddenly, the heat wasn't so bad anymore.

stu definitely killed her the next day. maybe grabbed her heart after gutting her and put it on your porch or something, in a box addressed to you. super romantic, right?! Joking.. Well, maybe.

stu wanted to give you something special that night, no matter what it was. he just wanted you to feel special. you were his special girl!

so here you were, cuddled up on the couch with you on top of a shirtless stu, a blanket covering the both of you from the cold air conditioning in stu's house. you were hiding your face in the crook of his neck and trying your best to block out the screams in the background.

he had a giant smile on his face, looking down at you.

"seriously stu I'm fucking terrified! she just got fucking possessed!" your face scrunched up in disgust as you pushed your face into his neck harder. "oh come on, baby! it's just a movie, she didn't actually get possessed. besides, I'm not gonna let anyone hurt my baby, demon or not". he wrapped his arm around you and pulled you closer to him. you pulled away slightly to look up at him and smiled, pecking his lips gently as he moved his hands to squeeze your ass. "god, stu, you're like a 12 year old who just found his dad's playboy mag! so goddamn horny all the time" he laughed loudly as you rolled your eyes, a wide smile taking over your face as he squeezed harder.

you kissed him again and again, forgetting about the gruesome movie playing in the background.

all in all, stu is the best boyfriend you could ever ask for.

me: i don't have a type

also me: masked men named ghost

Repugnant | Armageddon Fest (2010)

I’d sell my soul for Alexa Demie. Not playing.

“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.

-------------------------------------------------

-------------------------------------------------

“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. 

-------------------

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.