billy x stu oneshots

You let me violate you

Credit to Annonymous

It's all adrenaline, their first time.

Maureen Prescott is dead, and they've got an hour to run home, swap out blood-spattered costumes for plain clothes, start a movie, build their alibi. But Stu rips off his mask, stumbling up against Billy, up in his arms, lanky, knobby limbs encircling  him for support while he shakes like a fawn.

Billy laughs, breathy and heaving, pushing the mask up only enough to bite at the pale column of flesh his companion had so helpfully presented, his hands roam Stu's body, while Stu grinds against his thigh, whining like a needy dog.

"Are you hard off gankin' a bitch?" Stu asks breathlessly, fingers skating across the hard line in Billy's stupidly tight black jeans, shrouded by obnoxious costume fabric. "Fuuuck, baby, shit, Billy, you're gorgeous." He pants, and the way he whines reminds Billy of a dog, bitch in heat with a lolling tongue, ready to take anything.

Billy captures his lips in a kiss that bruises both their lips, snaking a hand up the costume to press on Stu's warm stomach, smearing blood onto smooth skin. He only pulls his hand away to frustratedly yank his gloves off, cold fingers dipping below Stu's pants, cupping his cunt.

"And you're nearly soakin' through, baby," He purrs, predatory as he pulls back, popping his fingers in his mouth. "We've got some time to play.." Moonlight glinted off the blade, metal still warm from just being buried in a still-beating heart. "I'll give ya a ten second headstart." He sing-songs teasingly, and Stu shivers, hands trembling. "One, two.." They know this game. They've played it too many times, almost got caught by Deputy Riley, rolling around in the bushes near the school. The way Stu's eyes are glazed over tells Billy exactly how excited he was.

Stu bounds off and the next few numbers bubble from Billy's chest like laughter, as he admires the way the twiggy boy ran. Exactly like a goddamn deer. Hank Loomis didn't believe in hunting, and had never taken him, but there was something oh-so-right about the thrill of it all. Chasing down a helpless victim, to feel adrenaline thrumming through their pulse.. Billy licks his lips and takes off after Stu.

Minutes later, the chase is cut short by Billy pouncing, sending Stu sprawling into the dirt with a thankfully muffled shriek. A few attempts of scrabbling for purchase turn into hungry, open-mouthed kisses, licking into each other the way wolves do, so eager to devour and leave nothing left.

He dips his head down, biting at Stu's stomach and watching him twitch and whine pitifully under his breath, Billy's name falling from his lips with every alternate breath. "C'monn, please, do somethin' already, I'm dying here." He whines, wiggling his skinny hips. "Billy!" 

Billy, ever the tease, litters the unmarked canvas of his neck with angry red and purple bruises. Stu whines, jolting his hips up, knowing he'd be stuck in his turtleneck for a while. He continues to grind against Billy, as much as he can. He's so fucking horny he might die.

And when Billy forces his hips down with the knife, and a look of pure steel, he thinks he will die. And he'd be so glad to.

There's fumbling and jostling of fabric, and Billy has to literally peel the underwear off of him, (which Stu could not bring himself to be embarrassed by, sending an obnoxius wink Billy's way as the other lets out a shocked 'Jesus, Stu, it's like you already fuckin' busted.'). Before Billy is eyeing him hungrily, cock pushing up against Stu, nudging that small bundle of nerves, that made Stu'd toes curl in his sneakers, biting down on his knuckle.

"Here." Billy grins, shoving gloved fingers down Stu's mouth, "Don't make a fuckin' sound, you hear me? So much as a whimper and I'll cut your tongue off." 

It's mostly play. Well. Mostly. But Stu nods, breath coming hard through his nose as Billy sinks in, groaning softly as the tight heat. Stu bites back the satisfied moan brimming in the back of his throat, instead sucking on the fingers in his mouth, making Billy laugh breathlessly. "Chatty little bitch." He lightly slaps Stu, amused and fond.

He moves his hips experimentally, once, then twice, then full speed ahead, actually causing Stu's back to rub back and forth on the forest floor, though the other teen didn't seem to care, wrapping his legs around Billy's waist to lock him in, to try and fuck himself back onto Billy's cock. Grunting at the motion, Billy removes his fingers, and watches as Stu lets his tongue loll out after them, a line of spit between his mouth and the gloved fingers.

Billy swallows and tries not to lose his composure. Stu looks like he's on Cloud 9, trying to twist his hips and take Billy deeper and farther, desperate for more. Desperate for him.

They stay huddled together, humping desperately for maybe a few more minutes before Stu's letting out a shuddering, quiet cry, and soaking both the costume and Billy's boxers, walls rippling against Billy's cock, forcing him to lose his cool as well, buried deep inside of Stu, panting raggedly into his hair.

He pulls out, watching as his seed drips out of Stu, who looks so well and utterly fucked out. Stu grabs the front of his costume, kissing him with what feels like a purring noise, and they nuzzle each-others faces for a moment, content to stay here and pass out.

But already in the distance, Billy hears sirens. So he helps Stu up, and they head home, leaning into each-other, grinning at the secret that only they know.