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arachine · 2 years

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— 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞?: 𝐚 𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐬

+ 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐝: multiple stranger things men

+ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: mature

+ 𝐜𝐰: explicit sexual content

+ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: me when i’m reposting this for the 5th time

+ part one can be found here !

+ 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: the small font is a stylistic choice that is only used for headcanons because they’re usually very short reads!

peter “the 001 for you” ballard

↻ length: crazy men have big dicks. this is a known—a fact. it cannot and will not be debated. why do some of you keep going back to your crazy exes? surely not because of their personalities…but i digress. peter doesn’t even know he’s got a dick of gold swinging in his pants. like he’s aware of its presence, but he never really sat down and thought ‘damn, i’ve gotta really big dick’—probably because he’s too distracted most of the time planning the demise of a bunch of little kids more than half of his age.

coming in at 6 inches flaccid, and roughly 7.4 inches erect, this definitely makes peter the second biggest on the list.

↻ width: he doesn’t really strike me as someone who’s gotta thick cock. i’d like to think it’s on the skinnier side, mostly because he’s very tall and lanky.

↻ color: peter is so pale, it’s literally just a pink stick.

extra:

↻ groomed: hmmm… a part of me wants to say yes. i think he’d groom it down probably for comfort. i can imagine that it’d get very itchy in those white orderly jumpsuits, and so, i feel like he’d groom it down in that sense. he just strikes me as someone who’s very calculated and precise with everything that they do, so having an itch down there would be annoying and he hates to be annoyed.

↻ curved: unfortunately, no :(

↻ veins: yes, plenty. they start to branch down from his pelvic region, all the way to his dick. they wrap around so prettily and when he gets hard, it looks kinda mean and angry!

↻ how he uses it: peter likes to fuck you from the back, with the upper half of your body smooshed down into a hard surface, and your head forced down flat with the palm of his hand. it’s the only position he enjoys that doesn’t involve intimacy. but most of all, he likes it down your throat. because in this position, you’re on your knees, with your head tilted up at him, and tears streaming down your eyes like ribbons.

it gets him so unbelievably hard because he’s the one with all of the control. you sit there and take him—all of him—down your throat because you like it. and he knows you like it too. he knows that you get a rush when he pushes it so far down that you can’t breathe, and he knows you like it when he forces all of his load down your mouth. so, that’s why this is his favorite position. because from up here? he’s a god, and you’re just some bitch that prays to his dick like it’s sunday service.

dmitri “got you walking side to side” antonov or, better known as, enzo

↻ length: if i speak…

ok, listen. i’ve heard some things about those russian men, i’ve seen some things…and i’d like to bet that enzo is one of them. there’s just something in the atmosphere down there, something in the air…something that i think we (the people) should investigate because why and what is causing this big dick phenomenon? anyway, enzo is 6.7 inches flaccid and 8 inches hard. i don’t make the rules, i listen to the voices. and right now they’re telling me to relay the message and i am.

↻ width: baybeee, let me tell you something. his is thick. like, really thick. you just better hope he has the patience to stretch you open first, because if not…well, good luck soldier.

↻ color: i could say pink—but i won’t. i am standing on this hill when i say his cock is tanned and his tip is brown or brown adjacent. it’s somewhere in the brown family okay, just…just trust me on this one. i know russia is cold as fuck but he ain’t that damn pale, so i am not budging with my answer.

extra:

↻ groomed: no. just full, unadulterated man bush over here. how we like it. the girls that get it, get. and the girls that don’t, don’t.

↻ curved: uhm, duh. he is a founding father of the captain hook club!

↻ veins: vein wonderland, just so many of ‘em.

↻ how he uses it: i don’t think it matters what position, you’re getting fucked and you’re getting fucked good. just know you’ll be directionally challenged by the end of it. suddenly, determining left from right, and up from down becomes a challenge tad too difficult.

argyle “let me smoke you out” [redacted] …because he wasn’t given a last name. them damn duffer brothers fucking up my list!

↻ length: i’d like to say his dick is as long as his gorgeous hair (which i’m very jealous of), but it isn’t. i’d like to sit here and tell you that the man who carried season four with jokes has a 12 incher, but i can’t (for i fear the masses will crucify me at the stake). but in all seriousness, argyle has the perfect cock. it’s not intimidatingly large like peter or enzo’s, but it’s not too small either.

argyle rests at a smooth 4.8 inches flaccid and a good 6 inches erect. and whatever he lacks in length—which isn’t much because 6 is perfect for some girlies—he makes up for in girth.

↻ width: i love me some stout men, and when i look at argyle, i just see a man with a fat cock and balls. big fat balls. big nuts. like i want the weight of his dick to be so powerful that it gives me a black eye…but, maybe that’s just me.

↻ color: he has such a pretty complexion, so i just know that it flows from a nice tanned color, into a pretty brown or mauve-y color at the tip.

extra:

↻ groomed: no, he doesn’t have time for that. he only has enough time in the world to roll his blunts and get high. everything else be damned. the male-bush agenda is going strong and we can’t stop now!

↻ curved: to the left, and he really knows how to use it. i know i said before that he didn’t have much time for anything other than rolling blunts, but i lied. he’s definitely got the time to learn how to make a woman cum.

↻ veins: just one that stretches from the side of his cock to the underside of his shaft…

↻ how he uses it: oh, god. i just know he likes a good ol’ mating press. he likes squishing you down into the bed, or the back of his van and getting all deep in your cunt. he says it’s because he’s ‘so high’ and that ‘he’s tired’ every time he flops down on your like that, but you know it’s because he loves seeing you folded like a pretzel beneath him. nothing beats the expression you wear when he hits that spot you like. the one that gets your toes curling, and your legs shaking, and leaves your head all dizzy. he could fuck you like that forever and it still would always feel like the first time.

jonathan “i have a degree in stalking” byers

↻ length: i don’t care for jonathan but i feel like he’s got something a little lethal down there…like not crazy big but he’s definitely working with something, so maybe that’s why nance ignored all the stalking. what if…what if i said he’s got like something close to a 7 incher? like 6.5-6.7? i don’t know… i don’t know but them creepy guys be having good dick. exhibit a: joe goldberg. it must be some sort of requirement…

↻ width: hmm, he leans more on the skinnier side so i don’t think he’d be thick.

↻ color: scarily pink, like raw meat but progressively reddens when aroused.

extra:

↻ groomed: jonathan doesn’t take that much pride in his appearance, and until nance, he probably didn’t do too much grooming. but now he keeps it fairly shaved down.

↻ curved: almost as straight as will, but in other words, yes. it’s got some curve too it but not enough to be a part of the captain hook committee, unfortunately.

↻ veins: two prominent ones that form a ‘y’ shape down his shaft

↻ how he uses it: the real question is how long can he use it? because i don’t think that boy’s got any self restraint. he probably finishes really quickly, but i kinda see him having a lot of stamina—but not in the way you think. i feel like he’d prefer having you ride him, because in this position, he gets to play with your tits and admire your body like the pathetic man he is, but as soon as he cums, his dick is ready to go again before he is. it’s just him lying there, totally overstimulated, and you riding him, milking him for all he’s worth. so, yeah, i’d say he’s not so much as using his own dick, but you using him.

#peter ballard x reader #peter ballard x reader smut #peter ballard smut #peter ballard x you #peter ballard x you smut #peter ballard x y/n #peter ballard x y/n smut #dmitri antonov smut #dmitri antonov x reader smut #dmitri antonov x reader #argyle smut #jonathan byers smut #jonathan byers x reader smut #stranger things x reader smut #stranger things smut

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usetheeauthor · 1 year

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Love, Papa 2

Virgin!Henry Creel|One|Peter Ballard x SexWorker!Reader

Summary: After family game night takes a turn for the worse, One is angry with you for ruining his opportunity to go “outside”. You try to get back in his graces in hopes that he’ll help you escape.

Warnings/TW: graphic language, attempted suicide by drowning, violence, infantilization, Brenner being weird, enemies to lovers, tsundere!Peter, hair pulling, crying, force feeding, reader nicknamed “belle” (by Brenner) and “bunny” (by One), slow burn relationship

word count: 5.3k+

series masterlist

Chapter 2: Dumb Bunny

You grow impatient as the “family” continues to eat and converse knowing you’re desperate to win this silly game and go outside. The psychotic man’s eyes constantly flicker back to you when he notices that you haven’t partaken in the meal.

“Belle, you’ve hardly tasted your food. Your brother’s been trying to feed you the entire time and you continue to resist,” Papa begins. “That just won’t do.”

“I don’t eat meat.” You spat through clenched teeth.

“Meat is protein. For your bones and for that beautiful brain of yours, my dear. I want all of my children to grow up big and strong. So you will eat the meat.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?! Grow up? I’m an adult! You fucking psychopathic bastard.”

He shoves the table from himself as he stands. The table along with his chair launches a few feet away. He towers over you as you stare up with a defiant snarl.

Papa grips your face in his large hand, your lips protruding out. “What did I say about that kind of language under my roof? And in front of your younger sister! How would you feel if she were to repeat that kind of behavior? You’re on your 1st strike for the night. Don’t accumulate any more unless you know what’s good for you.”

His fingers began to dig into your cheeks the tighter he squeezed, tight enough that you were convince he’d draw blood or even choke you out this way.

“Papa,” One chimes in. “She didn’t mean to say those things. She’s scared and the rules are still very new to her. She’s learning.”

“Yes, Papa,” Eleven says, terrified for you. “She’ll be good.”

The viscous man glares into your eyes for a few moments before he lets out a sigh and releases you. You gasp for air, unable to rub the sting away from your cheeks due to your hands being bound.

“I’m sorry for my behavior, children. All of you. Especially you, belle. I’ve been much too hasty with you but only because I know you can be my good girl,” He caresses a hand down your tear-stained cheek and you shiver in fear and disgust. “Will you forgive me?”

You frantically look in One’s direction and he gives you a secret nod. Swallowing your pride, you whisper your acceptance. Papa kisses the top of your head before taking his seat and adjusting the table.

He lets out a breath of relief. “Now, One…please feed Belle her meal.”

“No, please.” You whimper.

One holds the spoon up your lips, you turn your head away. He follows your movements until Papa has to once again stand from his seat. He restrains your head, widening your mouth forcefully.

You whine and cry, struggling under his grasp. For the first time, One seems to break his emotionless persona and you could actually see him being reluctant to follow his father’s commands. But then Papa growls for him to do so and Peter shoves a spoonful of ground beef into your mouth.

“More!” Papa yells.

He shovels more into your mouth until your forced to swallow. You could feel you body having a visceral reaction to the meat. It rejects the taste and, not a moment after, you’re vomiting over yourself.

“Looks like Belle made a mess.” Papa says in an endearing tone.

You couldn’t even stare at him in anger for his sick ways. You felt defeated and weak, looking up at him with tears swelling in your eyes and saliva on your chin.

“It’s okay, sweetie. Let’s run you a bath and get you all cleaned up,” He runs a hand through your hair. “Maybe next time for dinner you won’t give a hard time. I beg not to…unless you wish to be punished. Eleven, would please draw Belle a bath? And, One, if you could please clean this mess and then take her to her bath?”

“Yes, Papa.” They say in unison.

Eleven rushes out of the kitchen and One tends to the mess all over you, wiping away with a moist towelette.

“If you’ll excuse me, I will be in my office to tend to my work. Please have lights out and everyone in bed by 8 sharp. We will have to reschedule the family game night for another time?”

“But Papa,” One shoots up from his seat in protest. “I was hoping I’d get to go outside. You said if we played then there’s a chance that I—”

“Are you being defiant?” Papa’s voice grows dark, staring the young blonde-haired man down.

The young man swallows his pride, jaw clenching. “No, I’m sorry for speaking out of turn.”

Papa nods, wordlessly accepting his apology before exiting the kitchen. One slowly lowers back down into his seat, staring in Papa’s direction angrily before turning to you.

“This is your fault.” He hisses but you couldn’t even care to reply. You already felt so broken. There was no way you could escape this place. Even if you could, you were much too afraid of what could happen should you get caught.

After cleaning you up enough, he carries you to the bathroom in his arms. Eleven awaits by the bathroom door, concern in her eyes for you. You felt genuinely terrible for her. She’s just a young girl witnessing all of this happening before her. Yet despite all the violence she must’ve endured, she was still kind and caring.

“You can go clean up in the kitchen, sister. I’ll be there with you soon.” One says to the young girl.

She nods, looking at you once more then closing the bathroom door behind her. One pulls off the large shirt he’d given you and you don’t attempt to resist. Even when his fingers curled around the waistband of your underwear, you remained an empty shell.

He doesn’t lower your panties. Instead, he pulls his hands away from you, letting out a shaky exhale.

“That’s as far as I will go. You can remove them on your own,” He reaches for the doorknob to exit but then ends up speaking over his shoulder for his last message. “You must know you’ve earned an enemy in me. I had plans to go outside for reasons that I don’t feel the need to disclose with you. If you weren’t such a brat, we could’ve been out there.”

You shudder a cry before breaking down completely, head falling into your hands. “I don’t care anymore. Just leave me alone.”

One almost feels bad for you. You weren’t built for a situation like this. But was anyone really? Something about you was different, though. Why had you given up so soon?

He exits the bathroom, leaving the door slightly ajar and he could hear you sobbing to yourself all the way until the end of the hall.

————————

You can hear the chimes again. When you close your eyes, they sound a lot closer. You let your mind drift away again.

This time you’re even younger in your memories. Your dress the color of sky, flowing daintily in the strong winds as you frolicked in a field of daisies and dandelions.

You can see someone in the distance. A boy some years older than you. He calls you over to him with a smile and you want nothing more than to reach out to him. But every time you felt like you were getting closer, he seemed further and further away. Oh, if only you could see his face.

But he felt so familiar. You know him. Possibly all your life. So you pick up your speed to reach him, giggling and smiling. You were almost there. So close. But then you see a tall, dark figure towering over him from behind. The boy is oblivious to it, simply waving and smiling at you.

You stop in your tracks, screaming. Or at least you’re trying to scream but your vocals felt as if they’d been constricted by your fear. You knew his name, it was on the tip of your tongue. You’ve got to say it or that thing will take him! Just say his name!

You open your mouth the first syllable of his name ready to be spoken when the figure consumes the boy whole. You watch in horror, tears streaming down your face. Paralyzed with fear, you couldn’t run. All you could do is watch as the figure slithered your way.

It rears itself back as if it’s gaining the momentum to pounce and—

—————

You’re coughing up water, gasping for air. One and Eleven over you, staring down at you with a mix of terror and relief in their eyes. You have a fluffy pink towel wrapped around your body as you recognize that you were resting on the cold tile of the bathroom floor.

You were drowning, submerged yourself in water for nearly 3 minutes. One was able to revive you with CPR. His hands wet as he caresses his hands over your face to check if you were responsive.

“Why?” Was all he said.

But you don’t answer. You just blink up at him wanting to study his features, know who he is. Maybe he might have been the boy in the dream that you saw.

Eleven gets on her knees beside you, tears in her eyes. She goes in for a tight hug, surprising you. You don’t hug back at first, too dazed and confused. But then you suddenly had the urge to comfort her, curling your arms around her tight as well and whispering your apologies to her.

After the incident, you were placed back into ‘your room’. You’d been given another large shirt to wear. You knew he’d be coming in to tie you up to the bed and you wished you could savor the moments of your freedom, stretching your hands and legs. But all you could do was hug your knees to your chest.

You feel someone enter the room, not bothering to look behind you.

“Belle?”

It’s the little girl. You turn to look at her standing in the doorframe, scared to come in.

“It’s okay,” You say. “You can enter.”

She nods, walking over to your bedside. You gesture for her to have a seat and she does so as well. The silence is deafening for a moment until she speaks up.

“I’m sorry.” She whispers.

“Why?”

“Because you’re here.”

You let her reply sit for a moment then sigh. “It’s not your fault.”

“But I wish I could have said something to help you get away.”

“Then he would’ve hurt you,” You know it was brutal to say but the Eleven knew that it was exactly what he would have done if she interfered. “I think maybe I’m supposed to be here.”

Eleven blinks in surprise. “Really?”

“Yeah. I think it’s fate for me to have met you. Because it means I get to save you. Wouldn’t you want to be free?”

Eleven blinks rapidly, putting her hands over her ears. “No, no. I don’t want anyone to get hurt. I’m sorry. No escaping. No!”

The picture frames on the walls began to clatter against the wall.

“Eleven?” You stare at her in horror as she continues to plea and beg for you to stay.

You don’t know what to do so you simply wrap your arms around her, holding her tight until she begins to stop crying. She ceases her cries, going limp in your arms as you cradle her.

When you felt a presence coming towards your room, you worried it was Papa and you expected him to question Eleven’s distraught state. But One enters the room, concern on his face when he scans the room to see the picture frames slowing their movements then looks over at you and Eleven hugging.

“What’s going on?” He asks.

“It’s nothing,” You say. “I just scared her. That’s all.”

“Eleven, it’s time to go to bed. Papa will come around to tuck you into bed soon so please say goodnight to Belle.”

She reluctantly pulls away from you, whispering a soft goodnight then exits the room. One stands in the middle of the room stiff and proper, staring daggers at you.

“Are you aware of what you’d just done?”

“Are you always this stoic?” You mutter.

“I’m only doing what I have to do. You should do the same,” He strides over to you, taking a seat at the edge of the bed. “I told you if you’re going to survive, you need to adapt. Killing yourself isn’t going to help this situation.”

“And how so? If I’m dead, I wouldn’t have to deal with you or that insane man.”

“You don’t realize what you’ll leave behind once you do,” For the first time, you can see fear in his blue eyes. The moonlight shining in them enhances his emotions. He looks strikingly beautiful, face chiseled despite the light being so dim. You’re enamored by him. “You don’t just die and that’s it. Eleven and I will face the wrath of Papa if you do so. I won’t let you die. Call me ‘selfish’ but I’ve been good enough to not be punished and I don’t need you ruining that for me.”

“You have no control over me. None of you do. I rather die than live in this nightmare. I can’t do this!”

“Do you know that it was Eleven who’d found you submerged underwater? She couldn’t see you through the milk & rose water, not until she reached in to drain the tub and felt a foot. She would have screamed at the top of her lungs but she knew what Papa would’ve done to us all.” Your facial expression softens, feeling truly horrible that she had to see such a thing. He continues. “If you don’t adapt, you don’t survive. But if you choose not to get along, that’s fine. I don’t mind whatever happens to you as long as I don’t have to get punished for it.”

“Maybe you’re okay with being a bitch boy and all because you don’t want to get hurt but at least I’ve got the balls to do something about it. So…Fuck. You.”

“I’m going to give you such a hard time.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

His face twists into a furious snarl, getting on his feet to leave when your hand reaches for his on their own accord.

He’s caught by surprise, frozen in position as he looks down at the contact. You pull him down to be seated once more and he does so without hesitation.

One studies your face for an answer.

“What’s your name?” You ask, dropping the hostilities.

“One.” He says.

“Your real name.”

“That’s my real name.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“It’s the only name I could recall.”

“What about your life before this?”

“I can’t remember that either,” He sighs. “What does it matter anyway?”

“Because,” You scoot closer to him. “I feel like maybe we’ve met before.”

“You’re mistaken.” He tries to stand again but you place your hands on his shoulders, seating him.

“I dreamt of a boy in a field of daisies and dandelions. I couldn’t make out his face. He was only a silhouette but I knew he was smiling at me. And he was happy to see me. If I could just find some connection to all of this in my life—”

“You have to let go of those fantasies. They’ll only give you false hope and drive you mad.”

You grew upset, turning your head away from his gaze. “I am mistaken. The boy in my fantasy actually smiled at me. You don’t even have the decency to tell me you’re sorry.”

“For what?”

“For being okay with this! For doing everything he says.”

“You’re as daft as you look,” He growls. “You think I want to play these silly games. We don’t have a choice! So again…if you want to survive, you have to adapt. Unless you’d like to end up like the others.”

“T-there were o-others?”

“Of course, there were others. He’ll stop at nothing for the perfect family. I’m a permanent member of this family. So is Eleven. But you… ‘Belle’… are expendable,” He whispers darkly, eyes wide with innocence despite his chilling words. “Papa dreams of a perfect family to be in his image that he’s dreamt for years. And losing another new addition will mean nothing more to him than a piece of torn paper.”

You swallow hard, chest rising and falling heavily. “How many were there…before me?”

He opens his mouth to speak only to be cut of by the sound of a door shutting. One’s eyes bug out in horror.

“That’s Papa. He’s just left his study. I must go before he sees us like this,” He picks up the rope tied to the bars of the bed frame. “I have to tie you up.”

“No,” You plead. “You can’t please. It hurts.”

“Until you gain his trust, it’ll be this way. I already told you that you’re expendable. Don’t do anything stupid and risk losing your life. If you want to survive…

“I have to adapt,” You finish with a groan of annoyances. “I know. I know. Just tied me up already. I don’t care to fight anymore.”

Peter slowly loops the rope around your limps and you could actually feel him holding back on tightening the rope.

Leans down to whisper in your ear. “Don’t give up fighting just yet. If you still have a shred of something to live for then you must hang on to it.”

He lifts his head to stare into your eyes and you see that he genuinely meant what he said. You were surprised but nodded nonetheless. He quietly slips from your room leaving you in the chilly, eerily quiet space alone.

Every footstep you heard outside your door terrified you knowing that it was Papa. Any moment and he’d be walking through the door just to harass you in some way. You couldn’t bear to have him touch you but you knew it was only inevitable.

To reduce the surprise of his presence, you counted each thud of his foot in order to determine how far he was from reaching your door. It did little to lower your anxiety as each footstep grew closer and closer in sound until you heard him halt right out your door.

You tremble against the mattress as the door slowly creaks ajar. Then, you see him. The tall, lanky silhouette of your captor standing in the door frame. He steps up and the moonlight washes over his features. He has a soft smile.

“Hello, Belle.”

You don’t speak anticipating his next move. What was he planning to do? You were already tied up. He could do whatever he pleased in his bound state and with each footstep, you began to cower even more at this very fact.

He takes a seat beside you, shushing you as you whimper and tremble. He brings a large hand to your head, smoothing your hair down.

“I didn’t come to hurt you, my dear. I only want to comfort you. You’ve disobeyed me plenty today and yet I can’t help it. I must ease your nerves,” He whispers, fingers now caressing your tear-stained cheek. “Tell me what must I do to make you love me.”

You shake your head. “I could never love you.”

“That’s not something I can believe, Belle. You wouldn’t be selling your body on the street if you weren’t craving for someone to love you. And I love you, Belle. With time, you’ll love me, too,” He leans over you as you press your head back against your pillow. “Until then, I will be patient. I will wait for you to come around. Then, we’ll begin our journey as a happy family.”

He places a gentle kiss on your forehead and you do everything in your power to keep from rubbing at it in defiance and disgust. He moves his lips to your bound wrist, sliding the rope down enough to place another kiss on the deep indentation of the rope against your skin. He takes a thumb to rub at it before bringing the rope over it again.

“Do I get a kiss goodnight?” He asks, bringing his face over yours again and turning his face to the side. “On the cheek, of course.”

You face away, snapping your head to the side to face the antique wallpaper. He looks down at you and sighs, hands on either side of your head. He inches them closer to your hair sprawled out around you, weaving his fingers in the strands of your hair and gripping hard. You gasp in pain, staring up at him with widened eyes.

“You need to sleep off this rebellious attitude. I say by morning you’ll be more well-behaved,” His lips are inches away from yours, tone icy. “Have a good night…Belle.”

He pulls away from you leaving you struggling between holding your breath and hyperventilating as he exits ‘your room’.

You coil your body in fetal position, crying softly into the night. You couldn’t see yourself falling asleep anytime soon. Not when he was around possibly waiting for a moment to take advantage of your sleeping state.

You let your mind drift again, far away from here and back to the field of daisies with the boy who made you feel safe. Slowly your eyes begin to blink close allowing yourself to hold the image of him holding out his hand to you.

—————

The next day, you were discouraged to realize that the torment that you were experiencing had not been a dream. You were awoken by the blonde haired man who still carried resentment towards you for your little stunt last night.

While he helped you out of bed, you couldn’t help staring into his face. It was no surprise he carried no emotions. He was likely desensitized to everything around him. He probably was once like the little girl Eleven, bright-eyed and innocent, until he was not.

You pitied him. And maybe that was displayed on your face because he had a few choice words for you.

“Why are you staring at me like this?”

“Like how?”

“Like you feel sorry for me. Like I’m weak.”

“I do feel sorry for you,” You admit. “You have no recollection of your life before this. You have no name other than a number. And you’re treated as if you are a child.”

“I don’t need your pity,” One scoffs. You take his hand and he’s taken aback once again at the sudden contact. “You’re always touching me. Don’t you know the basic rules of keeping your hands to yourself.”

“No one has ever followed that rule for me. Why should I be the only one to follow it? I think you want me to touch you,” You said, intertwining your fingers with his. “I think…you still have a heart and you’re seeking compassion and companionship. You want me to convince you to fight. You and I are both victims of our situation. But we shouldn’t let it drive our complacency. We could escape. The three of us.”

His ocean eyes shine with shock as if you’d read what was on his mind. He quickly snaps back to reality, pulling his hand away. “You’re a foolish woman. Your bravado will be your downfall.”

“You can try and pretend like you don’t want to run! But I know the truth and I’ve seen it in your eyes. I won’t waste my energy fighting to stay alive here like you want me to,” You say while staring up in his eyes with a newfound courageous spirit. “I know what I’m fighting for now and it doesn’t end with me being here.”

The two of you keep up your heated gazes until the door pushes open and Eleven enters the room giddily.

“Brother! Sister!” Eleven squeals giddily. “Papa says that he’ll allow us to go outside after breakfast! He says that he felt truly awful for ending family game night the way it did and so as an apology, we can play out in the field.”

“That’s splendid, El! Sister and I will be expressing our gratitude to Papa very soon. Could you please let him know that we’ll be there soon?” One says.

“Yes!” She says with a bright smile before scurrying out the room.

One brings his lips to your ears for a raspy, threatening whisper. “I’ll see to it that you’ll be on your best behavior unless you wish to be punished for real this time.”

He pulls away and gives you that famous eerie yet innocent smile. “Don’t be too late for breakfast.” And with that, he leaves you in the room alone as you seethe quietly at his unwavering demeanor.

————

Breakfast felt surprisingly normal. Papa read his newspapers, Eleven colored away in her coloring book, you and One were consistently staring dagger at one another. It creeped you out but that didn’t matter at all to you.

You’ll finally get to go out there and make a run for it. You even ate all your breakfast hoping that it’d give you the necessary energy to run for your life.

Papa looks away from his newspaper to watch you in astonishment. “Wow, look at you, Belle. It seems you’ve developed quite the appetite. And Eleven, it’s not good to color at the table. We’re meant to be eating breakfast, remember?”

“Sorry, papa.”

“You’re very much excused, love. I understand that you’re eager to hurry outside. I guess I could just let you three catch the rays of the sun right now. Is that what you’d like?”

“Yes!” One and Eleven say in unison.

“And you, Belle?” Papa says, focusing his attention on you.

You smile brightly and nod. “Y-yes.”

“Wonderful,” He beams. “Alright, let’s go outside.”

You could almost cry tears of joy. Freedom was only within a reach away. He stands to his feet and you all follow after him as he heads over to the door padded with locks upon locks.

He pulls out a keychain filled with various keys from his pocket and begins unlocking the door. When he gets to the last lock, your smile widens as the door swings open and the sun pours in.

It was in the middle of nowhere, a house in the middle of the woods. There’s a chance you could get lost but that mattered not. As long as you can get away, you’ll figure out a way home after.

The house was also surrounded by tall metal fences, fences laced with barbed wire at the top. It was intimidating and deterring but not enough to scare you.

The field’s quite beautiful. He has his own garden and crops to grow. Possibly to reduce the amount of trips to the grocery store. You could see an apple tree with a tire swing hanging from the thick branch.

Eleven is the first to exit the home, barefoot with her frilly blue and white dress blowing in the wind as she twirled and jumped around.

One is next, his excitement a lot more contained as he heads straight for the garden. He begins to tend to the crops.

Lastly, you take a barefooted step onto the creaky porch, antsy at the startling sound which causes you to bump into Papa. He chuckles, amused by your anxious state.

“Run along, Belle. Enjoy your time outside. I’ll be in my study but we’ll see each other very soon.”

You blink up at him then back at the picturesque field. He was wrong. He wouldn’t be seeing you. But if there’s one command from him that you’ll find yourself listening to…you will very well ‘run along’.

————

You need to figure out just how you will get to the other side of this fence without being shocked to death.

“Don’t even think about,” One says, bumping your shoulder with his as he follows your eyes to the barbed wire fence. “You’ll have yourself killed.”

“I thought you didn’t care what happened to me.” You mutter.

“I don’t long as I’m not in the middle of it.”

“Then, you don’t need to worry about it.”

“Whatever. It’s your funeral.” He huffs, retreating back to his garden. You should be ignoring him and focusing on more pressing matters but you watch him as he cups his hands carefully around the leaf of a plant.

You zero in only to find that he held a small tarantula in his hands. You squeak your horror.

“Why do you have that?”

“Why do you care?” He counters.

“You’re more of a child than I thought.” You say, rolling your eyes.

He gives in. “I like spiders. Everyone looks down on them because they’re ‘creepy’. Much like me, I, too, couldn’t appease the masses. I’ve been told that I’m strange. Unnerving like my eight-legged comrades. I was never normal. But why would I want to be, anyway? All humans care for is fulfilling their own selfish desires. Sex…money…violence…anything of the flesh. But what I desire…not many are willing to admit. I desire power.”

“You’re right about that,” You say much to his surprise. “Everyone I’ve met has only ever wanted those things from me. The men who used my body, the man who sells my body for profit, the violence that follows me where I go. I want power, too. If I had the power, just this once, I’d get my revenge on them all. Including your Papa.”

He’s moved by this, smirking with pride. “You’re not the dumb bunny I thought you were.”

The corner of your lips twitch in a vicious sneer. “I’d hurt you, too. I’d hurt anyone who hurt me.”

He nods, slinking the hairy spider back and forth in his hands and between his fingers. “You’re entitled to those feelings, bunny.”

“Bunny? Is that what you’ll be calling me from now on?”

“I think so. It suits you well. Hopping around dangerously and frantically only to be swallowed whole by the cunning fox. You’re only prey here. That’s all you’ll ever be. Power isn’t reserved for prey. That’s just wasteful.”

“I’ll prove you wrong.” You hiss, stomping away from him.

You pace back and forth, hands in your hair and thinking hard when you feel a small hand tug at your white nightgown.

You looked down to see Eleven with a smile on her face, waving for you to come along with her. “I have something to show you.”

“Not now, dear. I—-“

“Oh, it’ll be so quick. I promise.” She says, grabbing your hand and tugging you along to come around the back.

She halts in her tracks at a distance, then points forward and you look in her pointed direction. There’s a brown wild bunny hopping away in the cunning fox’s cage.

Eleven gets on her knees and gestures for you to follow her as the two of you crawl as close as possible to the bunny. She pulls out an apple from her small pocket, taking a bite so that she has a piece of apple to feed to the bunny. She hands the apple over to you, wanting you to do the same.

“That way the bunny will get to decide who she feels comfortable going to.” Eleven explains.

You repeat the process of biting into the apple for a chunk to provide to the bunny. Then, you hear it. The chimes gently sounding off in the winds. The bunny hops towards you and you and Eleven stare in awe at the creature as it makes its way to your offering.

It nibbles for a moment, your eyes staring into its own like you’ve formed a connection. Eleven sneezes and it startles the bunny, causing it to scamper off and under the barbed wire fence.

“I’m sorry.” Eleven says, disappointed.

But you had a revelation. It wasn’t that you needed to go over the fence. It was under the entire time.

Score: 1 for the ‘dumb bunny’.

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fxllfaiiry · 2 years

Text

˗ˏˋ 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐬 <𝟑

˗ˏˋ 𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐌𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

Peanut butter cookies - @eddie-van-munson

guitar pick - @yourfavouriterival

“Why the hell would you say something like that?” - @rainylana

Bloody Lip - @darling-i-read-it

Afterglow - @siempre-bucky

˗ˏˋ 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧

fool for you - @witchwyfe

Jealousy jealousy - @eufezco

Boobies - @princessofmarvel

The babysitters club - @sinclaiirs

I Like Girls Too - @bxcketbarnes

Slurpys and Dirty Talk - @steveharringtons-lover

Just the two of Us - @heyysteven

The Cake Attack of ‘87 - @hellfireclubmember

˗ˏˋ 𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐞

What Were you Thinking? - @jedi-mabari

beat up love - @dearhargrove

road gate - @eddiemunsxn

i’m with you - @hauntlikeaghost0

my boy - @feverdreqmz

Just To Ourselves - @billyhargrove-s

Dating Billy Hargrove HC's - @queers-gambit

˗ˏˋ 𝐇𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐲 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐥/𝟎𝟎𝟏

Staff Room Crushes - @dysfunctionalaliens

You'll See Why - @justfandomwritings

Yandere Husband! 001 - @floatyflowers

Blue - @jamilelucato

˗ˏˋ 𝐑𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐧 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐞𝐲

redemption make out sesh - @stevesfaberge

Opposites Attract - @strangeswift

Blurb <3 - @shysneeze

dating robin headcanons - @nctzncore

Blurb <3 - @hawkins-losers

Thank me later - @selenitesdawn

"What's your favorite scary movie? " - @ioveeddiemunson

bloodshot bad news - @stevesfaberge

˗ˏˋ 𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐲 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐫

Jealousy - @milkmily

Blurb <3 - @multi-fandom-imagine

Teach me - @fentibeauty

No but like… dating Nancy - @bi-disaster-yn

˗ˏˋ 𝐉𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐁𝐲𝐞𝐫𝐬

Your Love - @refiwrites

Dating Jonathan Byers Headcanons - @myuninterestinglifestory

boyfriend headcanons - @keepyourbliss

Wish - @proudharrington

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inklore · 2 years

Text

teach me to be cruel.

premise: bad girls get rewarded, good girls get nothing.

pairing: peter ballard x (f)reader

word count: 1.20k

warnings: eighteen+ content, porn with plot, dark, fingering, orgasm denial, mentions of murder and blood, peter is a warning himself, slight degradation, undertones of manipulation.

etc: we’ve finally made it here, i’ve finally done it, it was only a matter of time before another devilish blonde man consumed me, this is not shocking lmao.

i do not give anyone permission to translate or repost my work, please be respectful — if you enjoyed please comment or reblog!

The hard concrete at your back, the blades of your shoulder pressed into it, is cold and seeps through your gown. The heat from your body is radiating off of you like a furnace as if his fingers between your legs were hot pokers that were sparking small flames in your insides until an inferno has started up and you feel like every organ and bone in your body is being melted down to something plabable; like the play-doh the children play with in the rainbow room.

The wire to your morality vacant and lacking a pulse. Sometimes you wondered if there was something wrong with it, that moral part of your brain that everyone has for basic human survival. “Sometimes it gets crossed with another wire, an evil one” Papa had said. Looking at you with about as much interest as he does when he’s ordering the group of you to throw each other across the room, upon your asking of what made someone bad. Cruel.

The answer had done little to make you run off of the beaten path you currently walked along. It hadn’t made that moral wire in your brain go off and rethink this. Rethink meeting him in closets. Rethink using your powers to turn afternoon sneaks into nightly rendezvous between your bed sheets; his hand pressed to your mouth, his deep grunts of “You don’t know how to be quiet do you? Pathetic” in your ear. A smirk on his lips when you looked up at him and gave him those pleading eyes, the ones with tears at your ducts and devotion filled in them like a hornets nest ready to be opened and released onto the world.

It’s where his interests lie with you.

You were a hornets nest he kept kicking until you were nothing but a carcass of something made to be strong, to house something that was supposed to give life. And now all you do is take it away, for him. But wasn’t that your purpose here? To be used for what you have, for what you were. The only difference between him and Papa was that you were in love with him. Devoted.

When you did something bad, made others bleed for fun, on accident, because you went too far, were too powerful; Peter never scolded. Never reprimanded. He filled that whole of shame in you, that morality with something thick and suffocating, something that felt more like home than this sterile hell you were born in.

So why should you feel bad when his fingers are between your legs, or his tongue? Those moral feelings of how wrong it is to let him mold and shape your molten insides that he’s burned into his perfect killing machine to help him with his vision: had no home inside of you.

The wires of power and devotion—lust—wrapping around any good wire you had until it was strangled and all you had left was the bad, the evil that Peter kissed, sucked, and fucked in and out of you.

His fingers inside of you right now is the only kind of good you want, need. His thumb rubbing hard strokes into your clit, forearm resting on the wall beside your head. His scowl is deep, his lips red and raw from how hard he had kissed you—from the teeth you had bit into his bottom lip to silent your moans, so no one would hear through the door as he fucked you with his fingers.

“Here I thought you knew how to listen to directions.” You can trace the annoyance in his voice right back to the girl in the infirmary right now. Body twisted in pain, heart still beating. The weakling he encouraged you to end the suffering of—one of many he’s asked you to take care of for him.

“I did.” You say in puffs, your jaw going slack for half a second when you feel the curl of one of his fingers and it makes your fists ball at your sides, your legs shaking. “She–I–”

His free hand is at the back of your neck squeezing the muscle there, making you look directly at him, a wince of pain replacing your stuttering and getting lost in the mixture of pleasure between your thighs. “She’s still alive. She’s still suffering, even more now that you’ve broken her bones.” The blue of his irises are dark, like a sea you’re drowning in. The casting shadow of his scowl making them appear almost black. “You didn’t listen to directions,” the up tick of the corner of his mouth only makes your stomach sink lower. Leaning his face close to your lips, enough to have your eyes straining to look up at his height, “and now you don’t get to cum.”

The whine you let out is a mix of frustration and anguish at words, and the stretch of him adding a third finger inside of you—something you could take, pleaded for when you couldn’t have the stretch of his cock. But as his fingers press up and move faster, quicker, the squelch of your wetness louder than your ragged gasps from trying to keep quiet. The pressure of his thumb still moving against your clit so good that you know this has nothing to do with your pleasure, this is a punishment.

You didn’t follow orders and now he wants to see if you even know how to; don’t come, don’t come, don’t come.

Peter thinking you were anything less than his devoted disciple was the only thing that could bring you to tears. Not his cruelty, not the bloodshed he’s helped paint your hands with. He was your only weakness, and the only thing that could make you possess any grotesque human condition; love.

And he knows it, brings a smile to his face. Loved using it against you in and out of your bed; teasing you until you were so sickly weak for him to touch you—to fuck you, “you look so beautiful when you have that pathetic look on your face” he’d confess into your ear as he fucked you from behind; “this is the way you were meant to look, covered in their blood, beautiful” he’d declare as he ran his fingers over the dried blood on your tits as he thrusted into you.

He loved your love for him. Just as he loved your power. He could use it. Consume it.

What he didn’t love was good. It only caused disappointment and that’s what you have done. Disappointed him. The girl was still alive and you were being punished for it.

“I’m,” you swallow, whimper. “I’m sorry, please.”

His grin is dark, demented, dead. “Begging only makes it worse.” He presses his lips to your forehead, whispers against it. “Focus. Because if you cum, you won’t for a week.”

“Please,” You can feel your walls throbbing, clenching, swelling around his fingers. That low ache in your belly that feels more like a death sentence right now than it usually does when Peter’s touching you like this.

"You haven't shown me you've earned it. I think you've forgotten our purpose here.” There’s no pity in his eyes as he runs his nose down the bridge of yours, pulling back to grin down at you. “Good girls don’t get to cum.”

#peter ballard x reader #peter ballard #peter ballard x you #peter ballard smut #stranger things smut #001 x reader #henry creel x reader #peter ballard x y/n #001 #001 smut #001 x you #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #peter ballard fic #henry creel #henry creel smut

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stranger-nightmare · 2 years

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Eddie Munson ~ Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Angst = ❤︎

Fluff = ✿

Smut = ⚠︎ (minors DNI please)

Dark Themes = ☾

Personal Fave = ☆

Oneshots

The Stars at Lover’s Lake ✿⚠︎

For Later… ✿⚠︎

Concentrate ⚠︎

Payback ⚠︎

Rock the Night ⚠︎☆ (Steve x F!Reader x Eddie)

Save a Prayer ❤︎✿⚠︎☆

Younger ✿☆

Desperate ⚠︎☆

I’ll Make It Up To You ❤︎✿⚠︎☆ Part Two ❤︎✿⚠︎☆

Sick Bastard ⚠︎☾

Time After Time ❤︎✿⚠︎☆

Impatient ⚠︎ (mechanic!Eddie au)

Good Boy ✿⚠︎

Moth to a Flame ❤︎⚠︎︎ (Eddie x F!Reader x Steve) (coming soon)

Drabbles

Cool Guy Persona ❤︎✿

Who You Gonna Call? ❤︎✿

Running Down That Hill ❤︎✿

Tongue Twister ⚠︎

Campaign Planning ⚠︎

Cockbulge / Size Kink ⚠︎ (Kinktober 2022)

Headcanons

Dating Eddie Headcanons ❤︎✿⚠︎

Reacting to You Being on Your Period ✿

Watching a Scary Movie Together ✿

Being With an Inexperienced Reader ✿⚠︎

Having a Clingy Significant Other ✿

Having a Socially Anxious Partner ✿

Fucking You in a Sundress ⚠︎

A Few Thoughts on Vampire!Eddie ⚠︎☾

Sex Whilst You’re On Your Period ✿⚠︎

NSFW Alphabet ⚠︎

Modern!Eddie Playlist (spotify)

Audio Masterlist (18+ only)

Audio Masterlist 2 (18+ only)

dividers by @silkholland | consent / feedback banners by me

#stranger things #eddie munson smut #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #001 smut #001 x reader #peter ballard x reader #peter ballard #peter ballard x you #peter ballard smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #stranger nightmare

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could-it-be-a-dream · 2 years

Text

desperate times

pairing(s): peter ballard x fem!orderly!reader

summary: peter’s been frustrated lately. you take notice and decide to help out.

warnings: 18+ content, MDNI! slight dom!reader, oral (m receiving), face fucking, pet names, praise kink, minor st4 spoilers (sort of)

words: ~1.1k

a/n: on my KNEES for this man istg🛐🛐 sorry if this seems rushed, i wrote it within like two hours (there may or may not be a second part coming, though😏) also, please note that there are MAJOR st4 spoilers in the tags!!! enjoy!

(i do not give permission to translate or post any of my work anywhere else!)

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

the repeated tapping of a lab-issued dress shoe striking the floor is the only sound, save for the quiet ticking of the wall-mounted clock, that can be heard in the hawkins lab break room. for the most part, the room is usually cleared out this time of day. you glance up from the book you’ve probably read thousands of times, your eyes finding the source of the noise.

seated at a table across the room from you, you find peter ballard, your coworker and fellow orderly. despite seeing one another every day, the two of you never interacted much past the polite greetings when you pass each other in the halls or the catching one other’s eyes during lunch breaks and staff meetings. although, you’ve found that you enjoy watching him, studying his habits, his movements. you’d be lying if you said you weren’t attracted to him.

which is why you can’t help but admire him as he sits almost silently at the other end of the room; the way his eyebrows are drawn together as if being pulled by a string, forming creases in his forehead. the way he lightly chews on his lip as he stares at the table in front of him. the way he readjusts in his seat to try to hide the very noticeable tent in his pants.

you swallow at that last thought, plenty of other thoughts flooding your brain in response to the observation. you notice him looking up at you, but when your eyes return to his face to meet his gaze, he looks away again.

you frown and, after a moment of contemplation, rise from your seat, the shrill cry of the chair legs scraping against the floor breaking the silence. peter looks up again, this time not looking away as he follows your movements with his eyes. you grin, eager to mess with him.

“looks like you’ve got a bit of a problem there, peter.” you comment, eyebrows raised as you briefly cast your eyes down to his lap.

“i-“ the corners of your lips quirk up as he fumbles for something to say, his face turning a beautiful shade of pink.

you reach out and grab his chin lightly, pressing your thumb onto his bottom lip. you drag it downwards before releasing it, watching it fall back into place.

“you want some help with that?”

“what?” his voice comes out as little more than a surprised squeak as he looks up at you, face burning at the suggestion.

you opt not to say anything, instead dropping to your knees in front of him. his breath hitches when you place your hands on the insides of his thighs, spreading his legs apart. you slowly massage your way up his thighs, barely grazing his bulge through his pants before retreating and resting your hands on his upper thighs. he lets out a shaky exhale at the brief contact.

you look up at him through your eyelashes. “is this okay?”

peter swallows, nodding quickly.

“use your words, pretty boy.”

“yes, ma’am.”

you hum in appreciation, leaning in to press a quick kiss to his clothed dick as your hands resume their previous action, touching and stroking him through his pristine white pants. his head falls back and he groans as you reach for his belt, undoing it quickly.

“look at me, peter.” as soon as he pulls his head up, you lean up and connect your lips to his. he hums appreciatively, and you manage to get his pants undone, pulling his cock free from his boxers. from what you can feel, it’s not overly thick, but what it lacks in girth is more than made up for by the length. as you begin to stroke it, using the bead of precum at the tip as lubrication, peter moans into your mouth, and you take the opportunity to slip your tongue in.

peter’s hips buck up into your hand, and you chuckle into the kiss. pulling away, you sink back to your previous position, shooting him a coy glance before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his weeping tip. you lick a broad stripe up the vein on the underside of his cock, and peter whimpers.

you’re suddenly thankful that you’re kneeling, otherwise you’re pretty sure the sound would’ve made your knees give out.

you moan before wrapping your lips around him and taking him into your mouth. you hear peter mutter a string of expletives above you as his hand comes up to tangle in your hair.

“oh god, y/n. feels so good.”

his words make you moan around his cock. ignoring the gathering wetness in your panties and taking him further, you gag slightly, but his hand tightening in your hair combined with the noises he’s making spur you on.

you grip the outside of his thigh to stable yourself as you quickly bob up and down, your free hand stroking what you can’t fit into your mouth. peter whines, his head falling back as you pull back and swirl your tongue around the head of his cock.

“shit, y/n, i’m so close. god- don’t stop.”

with the hand he has in your hair, he forces you down further on his dick, bucking his hips up into your mouth. you cough around him as he cries out, quickly clamping a hand over his mouth to muffle his moans. within seconds, you feel him fill your throat and loosen his grip on your hair. you pull off of his cock with a pop and swallow the saltiness. leaning in, you give him a soft kiss on the lips, both of you panting into it.

“you did so well, baby. so good for me.” he smiles dazedly at the praise, but it’s soon replaced with a frown.

“what about you?” he asks, gently holding your waist.

you smile. “don’t worry about me, pretty boy. this was about you.”

you fall silent for a moment as he reluctantly stands and begins tidying up his appearance. after a moment of thought, you speak up again.

“if you really wanna make it up to me,” you smile coyly, bringing a hand up to his chin and angling his head to face you, “meet me in storage room b after dinner tonight.”

his pupils dilate as you let your arm trail down his chest. you turn around and walk out, leaving him with a half-hard dick and a fun night to look forward to.

#peter ballard x reader #peter ballard imagine #peter ballard smut #henry creel x reader #henry creel smut #henry creel #001 x reader #001 smut #stranger things #stranger things smut #vecna x reader #jamie campbell bower x reader #jamie campbell bower smut #spencer writes

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pittsburghhockeybirds · 2 years

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🙃

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mya-cookie-eater · 1 month

Text

Imagine…

You’re your comfort characters comfort character

C/c=comfort character

Warning ⚠️:kinda sad at the end but at first kinda cute I also didn’t reread this so it might be rushed and not make sense mb plus it’s short

A/n: send request for stories like these I like writing them.🙃 pick a specific character tho and I’ll tell you if I can do them or not (please send requests)

After a long day of school/work they come home and lay in bed they grab their pillow and began to speak. “hey y/n I had a good day today I almost got into a fight but I didn’t because I thought of you and how you wouldn’t want me to do that how you would want me to be the bigger person so I talked to them about it and I know you fight sometimes but you wouldn’t want me to risk everything by fighting so yeah how was your day??” In their mind the pillow came to life forming your face and body into it. “I had a good day just chilled on your bed you know” you looked into the eyes of C/C and grabbed the side of their face. “I’m proud of you I’m so proud of you” you hugged them and then you laid on their chest they hugged back and you started to cuddle they you felt something hot and wet they were crying. “what’s wrong??” You asked and put their face into your hands. “I love you but your not real” their world of happiness collapsing with those words. Your.Not.Real you made them happy you made them better but you weren’t real.

A/n:Hey I wrote this because I seen dd Osama confront n3on and I was proud of him and I thought of what it would be like if I had his comfort character or if I was any of my other comfort characters comfort character I seen a story similar that’s what this was based on so if you find that send me a link bc I really want to read it again they wrote it better than me

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arachine · 2 years

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♱ ONE-SHOTS.

— the freaks gotta tongue of gold → e.m. ; nsfw

— distraction → s.h. ; nsfw

— fixation → s.h. ; dc + nsfw

♱ DRABBLES.

— confessing to mike in the inventory room ; nsfw

♱ HEADCANONS.

— dick analysis (pt. 1) ; nsfw → ft. multiple stranger things men

— dick analysis (pt. 2) ; nsfw → ft. multiple stranger things men

— eddie when you’re on your period ; sfw

♱ BLURBS.

— watching a movie in mike’s basement ; nsfw

♱ MISCELLANEOUS.

001. concepts & thirsts → includes kitty! reader

back to main masterlist

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usetheeauthor · 1 year

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Love, Papa

Virgin!Henry Creel/One/Peter Ballard x SexWorker!Reader

MDNI +18 (eventual smut)

Summary: You are snatched away from your mundane life and brought to a secluded location in the woods where you are forced to play house with a man who calls himself “Papa” and his two “children”One and Eleven. Now you’ll do everything you can to escape this nightmare…and fast. (Also please bare with me as I am finishing up a couple series before this one)

A/N: This one’s kinda dark but interesting I think. It’ll also be graphic and smutty but also thriller/horror. I haven’t written for Peter in so long because Eddie’s taken up my mind but we gotta show some love to Henry. He may be a psycho but damn is he hot. I believe this will be a 5 part series. It’s set in modern times during the pandemic. The fic will be based on Melanie Martinez songs and themes because why not?! Please enjoy! Ps. Peter is somewhere in his late 20s and Reader early 20s.

Word Count: 2.8k+

Warnings: kidnapping, use of chloroform, graphic language, mentions of sex work and dark sides of it, imprisonment, choking, Brenner being a psycho

Chapter One: One Happy Family

The cold air of the night sends shivers down your spine, prompting you to wrap your coat around you tighter. Tonight was a slow day. Not much creeps out in the streets in search of a risqué night session.

The pandemic’s to blame. The virus was currently running rampant and people were frightened. You should’ve been, too. Instead, the need for money to survive fueled your intentions.

You were all you had. Your parents had long forgotten you after you’d told them you were going to school to become an esthetician and not a doctor like they were.

Big mistake. Not because you regret following your dreams but rather it was how your dreams led you to a man who would soon ruin your life.

He was your teacher. You didn’t take him seriously considering he was a beauty school teacher but that’s exactly the place for a womanizer to prey on a sea of women. The school had a strict no student-teacher policy so once your relationship was exposed. The decision ended with them immediately discarding your future there.

You believe your love would save you but he protected his job. With no other beauty schools in Hawkins, traveling being too expensive, and you being cut off from your parents; you had no choice but to make quick money.

You were introduced to prostitution working as a bartender one night by a woman who ran a business of sex workers. Figuring since it was a woman, you trusted her. Of course, now you realize basing your decisions in the hands of a person specifically because of their gender was also a big mistake.

Life wasn’t very glamorous like how it was with some of the girls you saw online, streaming their work from the comforts of their homes or studios. On the streets, you’d live in fear nearly everyday at the cost of passing money. Sure you get expensive bags and designer clothes but at what cost.

Leaning against the graffiti’d wall behind you, you pull out your phone to make a phone call. Your mother’s contact is the first thing you see. Your thumb hesitantly hangs over the call button. Just as you finally worked the courage to press the button, a car pulls up on the curb.

You hear a muffled “hello” through the speaker and quickly hang up, providing your attention to the car in front of you.

The man lowers his window. “Hello, young lady. What are you doing out here all alone?”

You put on a seductive smile as you sauntered over to him. “I was looking for a good time. Would that happen to be why you’re here, too?” You lean into his window, resting your elbow on the passenger door.

“Actually, I was looking for someone that would be the perfect fit for my family and—congratulations— you are that. And it doesn’t appear to me that anyone’ll be looking for you considering your profession.” He smiles.

“What?” You say, heart pounding. A cough in the backseat has your eyes following in its direction. There’s a young girl with her head shaven, looking back at you with pitiful eyes.

You attempt to run when your back collides with something—someone—behind you. Before you could turn to look, a rag is thrown over your mouth and nose, muffling your screams.

You fight and scratch all you could but you were getting weaker. Chloroform. You get one look at the sky above you and then all you could see is black.

—————

You hear chimes. The beautiful sound of chimes and it brings you back to a distant memory of your childhood. Suddenly, your in your mother’s arms, sitting on the porch as she rocks you along in her favorite chair. She’s telling you stories of great women in history: Joan of Arc, Harriet Tubman, Sojourner Truth. The autumn breeze gently kisses your skin, pushing the chimes into making its music. You were so happy.

The chimes in the distance grew louder and louder until it was too hard to ignore and you’re jolted awake. Your eyes open to an unfamiliar setting. You were in a room of a log cabin home.

You attempted to sit up to check your surroundings when you noticed that your hands and feet were tied to the bed posts. You immediately began to thrash around and whine when your memories of what happened prior washed over you.

The door to the room opens, revealing a tall gray-haired man. Your captor. He looks down at you almost as if he’s sorry for you, sitting at the corner of the bed.

“Who the fuck are you?!” You scream. “Why am I here?”

“You can call me ‘Papa’. I’m your family now. And you’re here because…this is your home.”

You shook your head. “Are you fucking crazy? Let me go!”

“I can’t do that, my belle,” He says, leaning in to caress your face which causes you to quickly pull away. “Papa never abandons his loved ones. You’ll be happy here. You wouldn’t wish for a place anywhere from here once you get used to it. Especially once you meet your siblings. But before we do that…I have some rules. Just a few rules that everyone must follow or else…Papa will be very upset.”

“I don’t care for your rules,” You say through gritted teeth. “Let. Me. FUCKING. GO!”

“Rule 1…Absolutely no profanity of any sort under this roof. You’re new to our family. So I will let you off on a warning just this time. But now you know the rule so there are no excuses,” He smiles. “Rule 2: You must never step into Papa’s study unless you have permission from me and me only. Rule 3: Everyone must treat one another with respect. We are a loving family and we do not tolerate any fighting. Rule 4: Papa knows what’s best. Do as Papa says. Rule 5: No one goes outside unless Papa permits so. And finally Rule 6: No technology of any sort. Follow these simple rules and we’ll have a splendid time together. But break them…and you’ll be punished accordingly. Okay, belle?”

“My name isn’t belle. My name is Y/n and I want to go home!” You sob.

“You. ARE. Home.”

You thrash around again, cursing him and spitting. He lunges for your throat and squeezes. He was surprisingly strong for his tall, lanky frame. You can feel him crushing your windpipe enough for your to begin gasping out loud, wanting to claw at his hands but your wrists were bound.

“I told you the rules, belle,” He whispers darkly. “I can make this a very ugly experience for you. Trust me. I am going to let you go. But you must promise that you will be on your best behavior here on out. Do you understand?”

You nod frantically, eyes pleading. He squeezes even tighter one last time before he finally releases, causing you to rip away from him. You were coughing uncontrollably, tears pouring from your eyes.

“That’s a good girl. Now are you ready to meet your new siblings? I have a girl. She’s only 12 but she is very bright. She’s been needing a mother figure. And I have a boy, not much older than you. He’s never been around women his age. He might be a little shy at first,” He chuckles before clapping with excitement. “Oh, they’re so excited to meet you. They even practiced something to perform for you. I’ll call them in. Stay put.” He winks before exiting the room.

You resume your struggling, crying out. Was this supposed to be your life now? No. You needed to survive. Get out of this freak show. But how exactly were you supposed to that?

Papa enters the room with the little girl that was sat in the backseat. She, now, hid behind the man. There was also a tall young man with pale skin, neatly groomed blonde hair and white clothing. He bore an innocent smile that somehow felt sinister in its intentions. Neither of them looked alike. You assumed he must’ve kidnapped them, too.

“Belle, I’d like for you to meet my son, One.” Papa introduces.

One bows in his greeting to you. “Pleasure meeting you.”

He also speaks in that same polite and formal manner. Like he was a lot older than his age.

“And this little shy princess here is my daughter, Eleven.” Papa says, tugging her sleeve to bring her around in front of him. He rests his hands on her shoulders, lowering to whisper something to her.

“H-hi.” Eleven stutters.

“Don’t you two have something to show our new family member?” Papa asks, smiling brightly.

One and Eleven exchange looks before nodding. One whispers something to Eleven. Grabbing the glass of water from the bedside table, One holds it out on one palm as Eleven concentrates on it.

“As if this situation couldn’t get any weirder.” You thought to yourself.

You’ve spoken too soon. The glass begins to lift off his hand, floating in midair. It appears to be following the little girl’s movements as she turns over to you. The glass begins to float in your direction. It hovers over you, you staring at it in both awe and terror. It lowers and tips just near your mouth.

“How kind! Eleven is offering you some water,” Papa says. You just stare at the glass causing Papa to clear his throat impatiently. “It would be rude not to drink, belle.”

You reluctantly lift your head, eyes searching the room before your lips touch the glass and slurp a sip of the water. You didn’t realize how thirsty you were until the first drop hit your tongue. You eagerly drank until the glass suddenly fell from the air, spilling all over your abdomen and lap.

“Oh no! I’m sorry.” The girl says, lowering her head in shame.

“That’s quite alright, dear. You did amazing! Belle was sooo impressed. She isn’t angry at all. We’ll just get her cleaned right up.” Papa says, petting the girl’s head.

The girl looks up at the man and you notice her nose bleeding. Her eyes begin to blink rapidly and her legs give out. The older man catches her in time.

“You’ve used a lot of your energy for that. It shows how much you care for your new sister. Let’s clean you up for dinner. One…will you please help out with Belle? Get her into some of your clean clothes until I purchase some new clothing for her tomorrow.”

“Yes, Papa.” One nods.

The older man leaves and One stalks his way over to you with his hands out causing you to shift to the side to avoid any touching.

“Stay away from me.” You hiss.

He sighs. “Would you rather stay in those wet clothes? I’m sure it’s very cold against your skin.”

“Don’t touch me.”

“I’m only trying to help,” He groans, looking back to make sure no one hears. “You want to survive here, then you must comply. No back talk. No fighting. Simply follow the rules. Then, you won’t be tied up.”

You stare into his eyes not being able to read anything in them. What is his deal?

“Okay.” You give in.

“I’m going to untie one limb at a time to remove your clothing. Remember…no fighting.”

You nod. “Just don’t be pervy about it.”

He chuckles. “I can assure you. I am not that kind of guy.”

He unties your first arm, trying to pull your tank top over your head. It was then you remembered that you hadn’t worn a bra underneath.

“Wait!” You panic.

“What’s wrong?”

“I-I’m not wearing a bra.” You say, blushing.

“So?”

“So…my breasts will be on full display.”

“Were you not a sex worker? This should be nothing to you?”

You seethe. “First off, I am entitled to who is allowed to see my body. Secondly, I usually receive payment before showing them.”

“I promise you I will only do what was ordered of me and nothing more. You have my word. I should apologize for these circumstances, however. It does get better. Now may I resume?”

“Urgh, fine. Just make it quick.”

He removes one side of your shirt, sliding it down your other arm. Your freed nipples harden at the immediate contact with the air. You hoped he hadn’t noticed. Judging by his facial expressions, he seemed unbothered, simply going about the task as if it were a normal thing.

One makes his way to untie the other hand and remove your tank top completely off you. He goes into the drawer beside the bed for something for you to wear. You take this opportunity to sit up and quickly untie your legs. He spots this in the corner of his eyes, climbing on top of you and pinning your hands above your head.

“What did I say about fighting?” He threatens.

“Worth a shot.” You say.

It was a compromising position. Him, on top of your half naked body with your hands above your head. You were so familiar with this position through your work. Male clients loving to do it as a sign of dominance. It usually has an unsatisfying ending.

One’s warm breath ghosts the skin on your neck and it isn’t any help, only making you think more of the sinful deed. You cringe, shaking your thoughts.

“One! Dinner’s nearly finished. Please have Belle ready to join us.” Papa calls out.

“I’ll let go. Just please don’t do anything you’ll regret.”

“Okay, but let me undress on my own.”

“No. Once the shirt’s on, I’ll be tying your hands again.”

“What about dinner? Will I be tied up then, too?”

“Yes, only until Papa could trust you.”

You groan. “Let me, at least, undress on my own. Then, you could tie me up all ya want.”

Also, something I’ve said in compromising situations.

“Alright, don’t make me regret this or we’ll both be in trouble.” One says as he unties your feet.

You stand up, stretching. It felt like you’d been in that position forever. You weren’t sure how much time passed since you were taken but the concept of time seems to not be a thing around here.

They don’t even have technology. No cellphones, laptops, or tablets. This is hell.

You lower your drenched skirt along with the pantyhose. You were now only in a thong, you glance over your shoulder to see if One was watching. He’s averted his gaze. You must’ve imagined it but…there seemed to be a sizeable bulge growing between his legs. He notices you looking at him and quickly places a hand over it as a cover.

You smirk. ‘Not that kind of guy’. Yeah, right.

“Well, aren’t you going to hand me some clothes?”

“Y-yes,” He holds out an oversized white T-shirt. “I’m not sure I’ll have bottoms that will fit your…erm…bottom.”

Was that his way of letting me know that my ass is fat?

You bite your bottom lip to stifle a giggle.

“The shirt will fit you almost like a dress since you’re shorter than I.” One explains.

“I guess this will do,” You roll your eyes before pulling the shirt over your head and smoothing it on. “Let’s hope your Papa isn’t as much of a perv as you.”

“I-I am not.” He blushes.

—————

Dinner was as insufferable as it was awkward. The man who calls himself “Papa” would not stop talking about his discoveries at his job. Aside from your boredom, the others seemed to be enamored by the tales.

All you could think of was trying to loosen the knots on the rope. You were tied tightly to the dining room chair, having to be force fed by One. Every now and then, he’d give you the eye to remind you not to fight back. So, half-heartedly, you obliged taking in the mouthfuls of a casserole concoction you weren’t familiar with what exactly were the ingredients.

“Belle, are you enjoying your meal?” Papa smiles, taking another bite.

You look at One who gives you a subtle nod. “It’s good.” You simply say.

“I’m so glad! After dinner, we’re going to have family game night. It’ll be fun now that we can go in teams. It’ll be me and the little princess and you and One.”

“What game, Papa?” Eleven asks, excitedly.

“Scrabble! We could go on and practice some new vocabulary that you’ve learned, El.”

“Do we get a reward when we win?” One asks.

“You and your rewards,” Papa laughs. “Okay, I’ll entertain a wager. What would you like as your reward should you win?”

“To go outside.” He gives a small smile.

“Hmm, alright you can. But if I win…next movie night will be my pick. Deal?” Papa says, holding out his hand for One to shake.

“Deal.” They shake hands, firmly.

You are dumbfounded. That easily he’ll let you two go outside if you win. You’ll win with flying colors. Having doctors as parents, they knew a plethora of words and were certain to teach you them. Once you win, you can run outside and get far away from this godforsaken place.

Your smile’s wide.

“Oh, look, children. Belle looks so happy.”

Indeed, I am.

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iloveudilfs · 2 years

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Simply in love with him

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svftvluv · 2 years

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can y’all imagine peter with a size kink. like he would slowly sink in y/n and she gasp at the fact that he’s too big and say “i-i can’t! you’re too..big” but he would whisper in her ear “shh, you can take me. you’re doing so well. just a little bit more” and once he’s fully in and she’s gotten comfortable with his size, he’s full on ruining her. his animalistic thrusts making them both even more desperate. “such a good girl. always taking my cock so well.” as he repeatedly hit her g-spot sending her over the edge and fucking her over and over.

#i think i might actually need to write this #peter ballard smut #peter ballard x reader #peter ballard #stranger things smut #001 x reader #001 stranger things #001 #stranger things season 4 #jamie campbell bower #jamie campbell x reader #peter ballard x y/n

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dollyism · 2 years

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riding 001's thigh would be a dream - his hands on your hips, carefully guiding you as you desperately search for friction against the rough fabric of his trousers, whines not hesitating to escape your throat. "not enough..." the words fall from your lips in between quiet moans.

001 smiles at you, his head tilting to the side as he practically drinks in the sight of you - making such a mess of yourself before he's even touched you. he laughs quietly, taking a hand away from your hip and placing two fingers on your chin. he gently tilts your head upwards, leaving you with no choice but to meet his icy gaze. "you're a desperate little thing, aren't you?"

#🎀#001 x reader #001 smut #peter ballard #peter ballard x reader #peter ballard x y/n #peter ballard smut #stranger things #vecna x reader #vecna smut #stranger things smut #henry creel #henry creel x reader #001

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henrywintersslut · 2 years

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you know you want me, baby

plot: you just finished university and started your first work in, what you think, is a hospital. when peter first sees you he just knows that he has to have you. and who are you to deny him…

warnings: degrading, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, guys!), oral (f receiving), slight public (people walking by), slight sub&dom dynamic, age gap (peter is 31 and reader is 23), humiliation kink, slight praise, orgasm denial, overstimulation, slight bondage, size kink (?)

words: 4,1k

notes: hi guys! this is actually my first time ever writing smut! i would love some feedback! also english is not my first language! enjoy!

tbh, i don’t give a fuck if you’re a minor, what can i say? we all get horny

when you first walked into the hospital where you would be working from now on, you were quite perplex.

you expected to see lots of old people, or at least adults. but there were only kids. kids with buzzcuts, all wearing the same clothes, if you could call those white and grey dotted hospital gowns clothes, and all of them looking rather healthy, upset and numb but healthy, considering that they were in a hospital.

at first you thought that you were in the kids wing of the hospital. what made you doubt this assumption was that there were no clouds, rainbows and animals drawn on the walls like there would usually be in the kids wing.

as you walked down the hallway you noticed that every door had one number printed on it. at the very beginning of the hallway the numbers started, or more like ended, with the number 012. and at the end of the hallway the numbers ended with number 002. you weren’t exactly sure why there wasn’t a number one and were just about to ask one of the women walking past you, who you assumed were other nurses, why there wasn’t 001 anywhere but out of the corner of your eye you could see Dr.Brenner walking towards you.

you turned to him, a dazzling smile on your lips, which Dr.Brenner returned. “Hello, Ms Y/L/N. Already making yourself familiar with your new workplace?”. You gave him a nod and walked towards him, “I have a few questions to this place though”. Dr.Brenner nodded and motioned for you to follow him, “let’s talk about this in my office.”.

you walked after him while looking at every door you were passing to see if any of the doors were room 001. (no they weren’t. door 001 was nowhere to be found.)

shortly after you and Dr.Brenner walked into a fairly big room, which must be his office. Dr.Brenner sat down behind a big white desk, motioning for you to take the seat opposite to him. you sat down and looked around, scanning his office, memorising every single detail in the room. when your eyes are fixed on Dr.Brenner again he begins to talk, “so, you said that you had a few questions, Ms Y/L/N?”.

you nod, “yeah well, first of all, is this a kids hospital? because while i was walking i could only see kids.”

Dr.Brenner smiles swiftly, “yes, you could call it a kids hospital.”. you smile back at him before stating your next question, “so, why is there no room 001? i’ve been looking at every door, but 001 is nowhere to be found.”

you noticed Dr.Brenner’s shoulders tensing slightly before he answered you, “we don’t have a number one.”

you furrow your brows, “are the numbers kids? why would you-“. you got cut off by a knock at the office door. before you could ask Dr.Brenner to let you finish your question he shouted for the person to come in.

you turned around, and in the doorway stood a handsome, quite tall man in a completely white, flawless satire. he had a dazzling smile on his lips. the man had blonde perfectly styled hair and stunning blue eyes.

Dr.Brenner was the first one to speak, “Mr.Ballard, is there anything i can help you with?”. the man, whose last name is assumingly Ballard walked into the door, not sparing you a glance, but what you didn’t know is that he already saw you, strolling into the ‘hospital’. “No sir, i just wanted to volunteer to show our new nurse around.”. Dr.Brenner nodded and smiled at him before turning to you, “would you like a tour, Ms Y/L/N?”.

you returned Brenner’s smile and nodded, “i would really appreciate that.”. Brenner turned back to Mr.Ballard before speaking, “you two are supposed to call each other by your last names. all the time. but, Mr.Ballard’s full name is Peter Ballard.”

Dr.Brenner turned back to you and smiled, “if you want to ask me any other questions, you know where to find me.”

and with this sentence Peter offered you his hand. you smiled at him and happily accepted his hand and got out of the chair.

you two walked out of the office together and you turned to him after the door closed behind you two, “so, why you, Mr.Ballard?”.

he turned to you and shook his head, “i don’t understand. why me?”.

you chuckled, “why did you volunteer to show me around?”. Peter smiled, “can’t a man be a gentleman these days?”.

you smiled at him before turning to looks at the doors he pointed to.

after 30 minutes of pointing at doors and explaining where to find which nurse at which time you finally built up the courage to ask him how old he is.

he turned to you and sighed, “we aren’t supposed to talk about this. we’ll get in trouble when we know more about each other than absolutely necessary for our job.”.

you pouted and shook your head, “but Dr.Brenner told me your first name, even though i don’t need it.”

peter scratched at invisible dirt at his pants, mumbling under his breath, “i’m 31”. your eyes widened slightly before you smiled, “you look younger, Mr.Ballard. well, since you already broke the rule, why shouldn’t i? i’m 23.”

peter’s head snapped up to look at you, “you’re quite young, Ms Y/L/N.” you chuckled and looked up at him, giving him your best angry expression, “are you saying that i look *old*?”. peter looked at you with a bewildered expression, “no, no i-i didn’t mean that! i just meant that-“. peter’s rambling was cut off by your laughter, “you’re so cute. this was a joke, pretty boy.”.

you reached up to pat his shoulder and walked off, not before turning back to him and giving him your a sickly sweet smile and a slight wave.

and this was the moment when peter knew that he had to have you. he had to be the one to make this cockiness of yours turn into pure submission.

submission to him.

~~~

later that day you laid on your bed in your new room, smiling to yourself. you were quite happy with yourself, you had gotten to know everyone and the kids were already really fond of you.

you rolled onto your stomach and grabbed your book from your nightstand, deciding that you would read a little bit before going to sleep.

you were an hour into your reading when your door opened and closed soon after with a quiet ‘thud’. you turned your head to see peter standing in your room.

you were about to say something to him, ask him why he’s here, but peter put his finger to his lips and shook his head.

you sat up in bed and peter walked over to your bed. he placed his hands softly, oh so softly, on your shoulders, leaning down to your face. “can i kiss you?” he whispered, so close to your lips that you could taste his breath.

you were shocked but you nodded your head anyways and his lips were on yours in a matter of seconds. you returned the kiss rather softly compared to his feverish kissing.

peter bit down on your bottom lip making you gasp, giving him the perfect opportunity to slip his tongue inside your mouth. while his tongue explored your mouth he guided you backwards onto the mattress.

after a few minutes you pulled away, panting and peter moved down to kiss your neck. while you were trying to catch your breath peter found your sweet spot and started nibbling and sucking at it which made you let out a strained moan.

peter smiled and moved further down to your collarbone, his eyes fluttering up to yours, searching for any kind of discomfort.

he’s satisfied to see that your mouth is slightly agape and your brows are furrowed. “please let me take your shirt off, y/n.”. you bit your lip and looked at him, nodding your head.

peter didn’t waste a second before he started unbuttoning your shirt. he let out a groan when he saw your lacy white bra.

all of peter’s prayers were finally heard. they sent him his rescuing angel.

he pressed a few small kisses in the valley of your breasts while fondling with your breasts. his thumb brushed over your nipple and he felt you shudder, making him chuckle. “so sensitive for me, sweetheart?”.

he guided his hand under the small of your back, slightly pressing you upwards to show you that he wants you to arch your back. you did as he wishes and he reached behind you to undo your bra. the moment your tits were free peter began nibbling, suckling and even slighty biting at your right nipple while twisting and pulling the other one with his hand.

you let out a breathy moan and burried your hands in his hair, pulling his soft blonde locks softly.

peter took his mouth off your nipple, a soft ‘pop’ being heard in the room. he gives you a crooked grin, which made your heart flutter with adoration, before moving over to your other nipple, doing the same thing he just did to your right nipple.

after a while he got bored of that little game of his and decided to suckle at the soft flesh under the swell of your breasts, leaving purple and red splotches all over your breasts.

when he was satisfied with the marks he left on you, and how sensitive and puffy your nipples were he started kissing down your stomach.

his fingers curled around the waistband of your brandnew uniform skirt, only raising his eyes swiftly to yours to search for your approval.

you nodded, your eyes watching his every movement as he slowly, teasingly pulled down your skirt. a smirk slowly creeped up his lips as he saw that you weren’t only wearing matching panties to your bra, but there was a stain of your arousal right in front of him.

he tsked at you and shook his head, “you’re a dirty slut, aren’t you? so desperate for me that you’re fucking soaking yourself, embarrassing.”.

but in fact, he didn’t find it embarrassing at all, it only made his painfully hard errection grow even harder, if that was even possible.

he was contemplating to just give in to the urge to rock pathetically into the duvets.

peter looked up at you while tracing the outline of your pussy through your panties, “mhh, let me make you feel good, angel.”

you looked down at him and took a shaky breath. you looked into his eyes which were now no longer the dazzling blue from earlier, but a darker shade which showed you just how much he wanted you. you were just about to nod when you heard quiet talking outside, your eyes snapping to the door immediately.

it was that moment that you realised what you were doing.

it was one thing to disobey the rule of knowing each other better than you’re allowed to by telling each other how old you are, but this? you two definitely shouldn’t do this.

you looked down at peter with worried eyes, “maybe- maybe we shouldn’t, peter…”. peter just gave you a sweet smile and rested his hands on your stomach, “we won’t get caught, angel. i’m gonna make sure we don’t get caught. and besides, you shouldn’t feel ashamed of what makes you feel good. now, please let me taste you.”

you looked down at him and nearly moaned out loud when you saw the desperation etched into his gorgeous features and the way his lustful eyes kept flickering between your pussy and your eyes.

you bit your lip and nodded softly, “o-okay”, peter smiled at you and pressed a grateful kiss to your thigh.

peter hooked his fingers under the fabric of your panties and pulled them down. he let out a quiet groan when your glistening folds were exposed to him.

he pulled your panties off your legs and pocketed them without your notice.

for later times of desperation, he told himself.

peter took his thumb and spread your pussy lips to see your dripping hole. “you’re such a messy girl, aren’t you? i’ve barely even touched you and you’re dripping” he smirked and circled your hole with the tip of his pointer.

your hips bucked towards him and he stopped every kind of movement and pressed the palm of his hand onto your abdomen.

“stay still or i will leave you here like this, dripping and whining desperately for someone to touch you. just like a bitch in heat.”

you whimpered and shook your head, “please touch me, peter.”. his head slowly bent further down to give you a last chance to push him away. but when you whined and pulled at his hair he let any kind of guard he ever had up, down and licked a bold stripe up your pussy with the flat of his tongue.

you leaned your head into the pillow and bit the soft cushion to prevent any kind of noise that’d may escape your mouth as peter started giving your clit a few little kittenlicks.

soon, peter got tired of teasing and started nibbling and sucking at your clit. you moaned into the pillow and arched your back.

peter’s eyes flicked up to find yours staring at him intensly. you felt his perfect lips curve into a smirk as your hole fluttered when his eyes met yours.

peter focused on your pussy again and pushed his tongue into your hole, letting out a moan against you which made you shudder from the vibrations.

you let out a strained moan “p-peter… ple-ase…let me make you feel- oh fuck…- good too..”

peter’s eyes flicked up to yours, he popped his mouth off your clit for a moment just to mumble a “feeling so good when i’m buried between your thighs, angel…” before diving in again and starting to suck and nibble at your clit harder and more urgently while sneaking a finger inside of your throbbing hole.

you threaded your fingers through his curls and bit your lip while bucking your hips onto his face. peter watched you intently while suckling at your clit.

he slowly sunk another finger inside of you and felt you squeeze his fingers tighter. your eyes fell shut and you let a very audible moan slip through before you clasped your own hand over your mouth.

you’ve obviously had sex before, but nothing compared to this. peter was so skilled that you were seeing stars already and he was barely eating you out for ten minutes.

“‘m close… so close, peter!” you suddenly chimed up, your voice slightly pitched due to your nearly graspable orgasm.

only a few more seconds, you already saw it dangling before you… so close…

suddenly peter pulled away and gave you a sadistic smile that quickly turned into a faux pout. he leaned down and gave your clit a last gentle kiss which made you jolt before he leaned up to your ear and whispered; “so close… yet so far”.

he chuckled and pulled your bottom lip out of it’s pout. “don’t look at me like that, angel. you’ll get to cum soon enough.”

with that peter kneeled on the bed and began to undo the buttons of his shirt. you scrambled to get up too to take his belt off before he, not so gently, pushed you back on the bed.

“you’ve gotten no permission to touch me, as far as i remember, slut.”

as so often your own body and your dirty dirty mind betrayed you and you just had to rub your thighs together which made peter let out a taunting laugh. “what a desperate little thing you are, angel. don’t worry, i’ll teach you manners soon enough.”

he kept unbuttoning his shirt agonisingly slow and when it was finally off your eager eyes practically devoured him alive. you scanned every inch of skin that you were able to see so carefully, you were sure you could make out every single pore.

but what your lust clouded mind didn’t notice was a little tattoo at his left wrist. just a black splotch from far away that every clearthinking person would’ve noticed.

well, you weren’t clearthinking anymore. the only thing you could think about was how handsome peter is and the itch between your legs.

you didn’t register that peter took any more clothing items off until he hovered over you again. “turn around” were the words he whispered next.

you flipped yourself over onto your stomach and peter pulled your hips up into the air. he grabbed both of your wrists and held them behind your back before a smooth leather band held them together.

his belt.

before you could react you could feel his hips grinding against your ass and his warm back leaning over yours.

his hot breath hit your ear as he whispered “you think you can take me, angel?”. you nodded eagerly into the pillows and whined. “yes yes… please, peter…”

he placed a kiss on your cheek before sitting up on his heels and giving his cock a few pumps. you crained your neck to look at him and let out a soft moan at the sight.

his hair was messy from your pulling on it earlier, his lips puffy from eating you out and his eyebrows pulled together in cause of the tiniest friction of his cock after it being neglected for so long.

he guided his tip towards your leaking entrance and slid his cock up and down your messy cunt a few times before returning to your entrance.

peter placed a hot palm on your lower back and rubbed some reassuring figures on the soft skin. “you ready, angel?”.

you gave him a nod and looked back at him again. “yes, yes ‘m ready!”, you said eagerly.

peter leaned down and gave you a soft peck on the lips before pushing your head back into the pillows.

peter guided his cock slowly into you and groaned loudly when he bottomed out. he stayed still for a minute before starting to grind his hips against your ass.

you moaned into the pillows when peter finally started to thrust into you. his hips pulling away and snapping forward at a steadily building pace.

you bucked your hips back towards him and muffled your moans in the pillows, along with your pleads for him to go faster.

by the time peter was thrusting into you hard and fast like you wanted from the beginning on, you were already close again in cause of your sensitivity from your orgasm being taken away so close to the peek.

if it weren’t for peter holding your hips up and slamming them towards his you would’ve long ago collapsed on the bed.

you turned your head to look at peter with pleading eyes. he looked down at you and cocked his head with a faux pout; “what is it, angel? are you close, hmm?”

you nodded and stuttered out a broken yes, your legs twitching from your impending orgasm. peter kept his pout on and tried to hide the evil smile behind it; “y’gonna have to hold it, angel. gonna have to wait f’me to cum.”

you groaned frustratedly and snapped your eyes shut.

to make matters worse peter reached a hand down and started playing with your clit. your eyes flew open and looked at him with frustrated tears prickling in your eyes.

“p-please let me cum, peter…”; peter shook his head disappointingly and pulled his lips down into a frown. “you’re such a greedy slut, aren’t you? can’t even wait for me to cum with you.”

you moaned loudly as your hips started jerking back to his, “please, peter…”. he gave you another disappointment look but whispered ‘cum’.

you let out a string of thank you’s while your legs now trashed under you and you came around peter’s cock.

when you came down from your orgasm you noticed that peter was still pumping into you. you whined and tries to squirm away from him; “stop, peter. ‘s too much… already came!”

peter let out a low grunt and kept slamming his hips into yours. “well too bad that i didn’t cum yet. you gotta wait for me to be finished with you, angel. i will stop when i feel like it.”

you lowered your head back into the pillows your whole body jerking from aftershocks and overstimulation.

you felt peter’s grip tighten on your hips and hus thrusts getting more eratic. “oh, angel, ‘m gonna fill you up so good… you’ll never even think about another man.”

you whined and bucked your hips against his; “please, peter… need y’cum!”. peter gripped onto your hair with one hand and pulled your head up, he leaned down and hissed into your ear “tell me how badly you want my cum, angel.”

you moaned loudly, uncaring if anybody heard at this point and bucked your hips again. “need it so bad, peter. wanna have y’babies. please fill me up… needa feel full.”

peter groaned and threw his head back, “such a dirty slut you are. pretending to be a good innocent girl meanwhile you are begging me to fill you up. dirty, dirty girl.”

peter hips jerked into you erraticly a few times before you felt his hot cum shooting into you.

you squeezed for eyes shut and stiffled a moan at the unknown feeling. peter’s hips jerked a few more times while he came down from his orgasm before he pulled out.

he unbuckled the belt from around your wrists and kissed the sore red spots of where the belt strained against your wrists.

he grabbed onto your hips softly and turned you onto your back. as soon as you could see him you gave him a tired smile which he returned.

he leaned down to press a soft kiss onto your sweaty forehead and brush a few strands of hair from your face. “such a good little angel for me.”

you smiled at the praise and crained your head to peck peter’s lips. his hands were carresing the red fingertip prints on your hips before one hand trailed lower.

you felt his fingers inside of you before your brain could catch up with what was happening. your hips tried to jerk away from his touch but he held them down firmly.

peter looked away from his fingers stuffed into your cunt to look up at you. “shh, angel. ‘s alright, just gotta make sure that all of my cum stays inside of you.”

he gave you a soft smile and fucked his fingers into you a few more times before he was satisfied with his work.

he pulled his fingers out and tapped your lips with them. “open your mouth and suck my fingers clean, angel”

you opened your mouth and started sucking his fingers obediently while holding eye contact with him. he let out a groan while holding eye contact, “don’t tempt me, angel.”

you popped your mouth of his fingers and he smeared your spit onto your cheek before leaning down to kiss you.

“i’ll be back tomorrow, angel. keep my cum inside you, i’ll check. and i warn you to behave tomorrow and not even think of washing your messy little cunt.” he pecked your lips one last time before he got up to get dressed.

you pouted and watched him get dressed, “y’not gonna cuddle me?”. he turned to look at you and sighed, “i wish i could, angel. but we’re gonna get caught if i stay here for the night.”

you nodded and looked at the clock on your night stand, “are you gonna get back safely?”

he smiled at your concern but he bit his smile back when you looked at him, “i’m not gonna get caught, i promise, angel.”

he leaned down to give you a last peck on the forehead before scrambling out the door.

you curled up under your blankets and smiled happily, the time here could be more fun than you’d imagined.

taglist: @slut-4-peter comment if you wanna be added!

#peter ballard smut #stranger things smut #jamie campbell bower smut #peter ballard fanfic #001pleasesnapmyneck #001 imagine #001 #001 x reader #001 smut #001 stranger things #peter ballard #peter ballard imagine #peter ballard x reader #henry creel smut #henry creel x reader #henry creel

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001-simp · 2 years

Text

Peter Ballard | 001 smut + fluffy aftercare ꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱

"he loved fucking you up like this, making you melt underneath him"

Warnings+summary: Gender-neutral/non-gendered language, female anatomy, PinV, cunnilingus, fingering, hair pulling, spitting, some pet names, begging, abrupt beginning, no real storyline just straight up fucking.

This is the first fanfiction I've written since middle school, don't judge me too harshly or I'll cry ❤️‍🩹

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Peter pulls your hair from behind, using his other hand to grab your hip tightly as he slams into you, bottoming out with nearly every thrust, causing you to whimper underneath him. You gasped as you felt an invisible force putting pressure on your sensitive clit, rubbing slow, teasing circles in your wetness.

His breathing hitched as you reached back, digging your nails into his thighs but it didn't slow him down. He'd never admit it out loud but he liked the pain you inflicted on him. He was ravenous, muttering strings of curse words under his breath as you tighten your grip on his thigh.

You felt him tighten his hand on your hip, yanking your hair back harder, speeding up his already wild thrusts. "God. feels so- fucking good." He stuttered out. "Where do you want me to cum, baby?"

"Cum inside me Peter, please" you whined loudly. this sent him over the edge, head tilted back, hips bucking into you in irregular thrusts, sending tingles through your body as he hit your most sensitive areas. You loosened your grasp, exhausted as he finished inside you.

He pulled his now sensitive cock out, gasping through gritted teeth. He relaxed his grip on your hair but did not let go completely. He guided you by your hair to flip over and spread your legs for him.

He quickly knelt in front of your core and began eating your pussy like he was starving. Swollen lips crashed into your skin as he sucked and licked circles around your clit, sending butterflies and tingles through your core. As you grew closer to your orgasm, your legs couldn't help but try to squeeze shut. You were already sensitive from him fucking you. Peter forced them down with his hands as he continued eating you. "please, please" you said, running your fingers through his soft blonde hair erratically. "Please what, hmm?" he groaned into you. You could practically feel him smirking.

"Please, can I cum?" you blurted without hesitation. Sticking 2 fingers inside you as he stopped licking just to say, "Yes, baby. Cum for me". He thrust his fingers into you just right, curling gently, continuing to lick you and still holding your leg down with his free hand. You exploded under his touch. Uncontrollable waves of pleasure overtook your body as you felt yourself clenching around his fingers. "Hmm, I love seeing you like this" he rasped against the sensitive skin of your pussy, leaving you with one last kiss on your now delicate clit.

He pulled his fingers out slowly, running them over your swollen clit one last time, causing you to whimper and shudder. He loved fucking you up like this, making you melt underneath him.

He crawled over you, grabbing your face by your cheeks. "Open your mouth for me," he said with his now coarse voice. You obeyed immediately, opening wide as he spat in your mouth. You could taste the both of you on your tongue. He chuckled gently, now moving to your neck, kissing you all over. He whispered in your ear with ragged breathing "you did so well, baby", running his hands through your hair for a moment, then leaving a kiss on your cheek

Peter always knew how to make you blush. You kissed him on his sweet, swollen lips with a shy smile, thanking him for taking such good care of you.

The way he praised and cared for you after pummeling your insides was always pure bliss. Peter went to fetch you some fresh cold water and a towel. He lit your favorite candle and asked if you'd like for him to run you a bath. Of course you said yes, so he happily prepared you a nice, warm bath and even carried you to the tub, peppering you with kisses the whole time.

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#i'm so in love with this man #down horrendous #peter ballard #001 #henry creel #vecna smut #001 smut #peter ballard smut #001 fluff #peter ballard fluff #peter ballard x reader #001 x reader #stranger things smut #jamie campbell bower smut #henry creel smut #henry creel fluff #im a simp #peter ballard fanfic #peter ballard imagine

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honeybadgerwritings · 2 years

Text

Don’t Worry Your Pretty Little Head

Pairing: Peter Ballard x Afab Fem! Reader - 001 x Afab Fem! Reader

Requested: request for smut prompts 8 28 29 33 with Peter Ballard or Jamie, whichever you think is more fitting! i love ur writing <3 hope ur doing well

Summary: An exhausted, overworked reader is forced to stay on shift over night. Can Peter convince her to take a break?

Warnings: Smut, Finger Sucking, Fingering, Oral (Fem Recieving), Impact Play (Pussy Spanking), Extreme Overstimulation, Dumbification, Praise Kink (LMK if I missed anything.)

A/N: I feel like a whore... that’s all

Prompts:

8. “Suck on my fingers baby.”

28. “Does it make you nervous when I stare?”

29. “Your thighs are shaking so much.”

33. “Just relax for me sweet girl, I’ll make you feel good.”

⚠️ This fic is 18+ so minors DNI ⚠️

———————

You aren’t supposed to be here.

You’re supposed to be at home on your couch, eating a microwaved TV dinner and watching sitcom reruns on your old, barely working television, much like you normally do after your shifts are over. But no. You’re stuck at your shitty job overnight.

Because your boss physically will not let you leave.

If you didn’t work for a top secret government facility, you would definitely be concerned about the legalities of this situation. However, because you do, you have to deal with these types of things no questions asked. Hawkins National Laboratory is not a place anyone should cross, or they might end up six feet underground with nobody looking for them.

There had been a fight earlier in the day involving two of the children, which meant quite a bit of paper work needed to be done. Normally it would be split up between the two nurses who were on duty at the time, because otherwise it would take way too long to complete.

But unfortunately for you, your secondary nurse came up with some stupid excuse to leave early, complaining of an upset stomach and nausea. Funnily enough, at lunch she’d been talking about going out with friends tonight and “getting wasted.”

You could see right through her lies, but much to your dismay, Dr. Martin Brenner could not. For someone who claims to be so intelligent, he can be real thick in the head sometimes.

He had sent the other nurse home with a wave of his hand, before turning to you with an annoyed, “You are not to leave this building until that paperwork is complete. Am I understood?”

You opened your mouth to tell him that was unattainable for you, but your office door was shut in your face before you could even make a sound.

That was five hours ago, and everyone else had since gone home, give or take a couple night guards and the overnight orderly. After hours, the level of staff significantly dwindles down to just those who are here for security purposes.

So here you are, typing away on your computer, mindlessly entering file after file into the system. Your eyes hurt from staring at the screen for so long, your fingers ache from the never ending typing and writing you’ve been doing, and your brain is absolutely fried.

You had hoped you could get it all done in time to leave and get at least a few hours of sleep, but that was proving to be impossible. You just want take a break from all this thinking and go home. Home to your warm, comfy bed.

You can’t help but close your eyes, longing to be wrapped up in your cozy sheets with nothing else in the world to worry about. Your head resting on the cold side of your pillow as the fireplace crackles next to you. You don’t even realize your fingers have remained pressed down on the keyboard until a hand gently clasps your shoulder.

“I may not be an expert darling, but I don’t think this is quite the information they’re looking for.”

Your eyes shoot open and you jump slightly at the sound of the voice. You glance over your shoulder to see your friend Peter in all his glory, staring down at you in nothing but amusement. You can’t help but stare back, eyes tracing his every - perfectly sculpted - feature. It’s almost unfair to you how beautiful he is; some days you even find yourself feeling jealous. The rest of the time though, you’re swooning.

As cheesy as it may sound, it’s the truth. It might be the way he speaks to with such tenderness, or maybe the way he gently touches you; one of his hands always placed on the small of your back, on your shoulder, or sometimes even in your hair when he feels like playing with it. Your favorite though?

Anytime you’re even a little nervous, he doesn’t hesitate to grasp your hand into his. It makes you flustered every time without fail, though he finds it endearing.

He always makes the same face when he’s amused with you too, a smirk resting on his lips and his eyes lighting up while he teases you about your bright pink cheeks. Much like the same face he’s making at you right now.

Oh, wait.

“Sorry, what’d you say?”

His smirk grows, and he huffs out a small laugh. One of his hands moves to brush the hair from your face, while the other reaches over, gently pulling your finger from where it had been pressing down on one of the keys.

Your brows furrow as you turn back towards your computer, seeing the screen filled with nothing but the letter “P.” You can’t help but groan, dropping your head into your crossed arms. Peter chuckles, sitting down on the table next to the computer, watching your utter misery.

“I thought you only work day shift.” You say, muffled.

“I don’t know where you got that idea from. I work plenty of night shifts.” You can’t help but raise your head, staring at him, dumbfounded. “How the fuck do you do it? This is hell.”

He huffs out a sigh, his amusement now being mixed with pity as he studies your features. You look exhausted. Hair that was once neatly tucked away into your bun has now fallen messily, and your eyes have formed dark circles under them, only highlighting how tired you must be.

“I heard what happened. Brenner told me to ‘key an eye on you’ in fact.”

Your face falls into one of disbelief, “You’re kidding.” He shakes his head, and you roll your eyes, repeatedly pressing the backspace button on the keyboard, “This is so stupid. It’s already almost midnight, and I’m only halfway through this stuff. My mind is fried Peter. It hurts to think.”

He watches you for another moment as you type away maniacally, entering the correct information into the system this time.

“You know…” he reaches over, placing one of his hands gently over yours, causing you to look at him, “It doesn’t hurt to take a break once in a while.”

You think about it for a second, and only a second, before shaking your head and continuing to type, “I can’t, I have to get this done. I want to actually get some sleep tonight.”

He frowns, but doesn’t say anything else as he leans back to watch you work.

You continue typing for another few minutes, completely zoning out as you enter in file after file. You expect Peter to leave you to your devices, but he does just the opposite. He stays right where he is, eyes focused on you. Normally you don’t mind comfortable silences, they’re usually pretty peaceful, but this is anything but that.

At some point, it becomes harder to focus on the work before you. You become hyper aware of how his eyes burn through you, and can practically feel them watching your every move, raking up and down your body.

You chew on your lip in an attempt to ignore him and keep working. And if you just so happen to be pressing your thighs together, you can only hope that he doesn’t take notice.

Except he does.

“Something wrong sweetheart?” He asks, a teasing edge in his tone. You try to ignore him but he stands to face you, and you bite your lip even harder.

Finally, you look up at him, your eyes meeting his devilishly blue ones. He’s still got that stupid smirk on that stupidly handsome face with his stupidly perfect hair and-

Goddammit.

“Stop it.”

He raises an eyebrow, playing dumb, “Stop what?” He knows exactly what he’s doing.

You huff and shake your head, eyes rolling as you turn back towards the computer, “You know what.”

He hums, pausing for a moment before he leans down, lips inches from your ear, “Why?” He whispers, and dear god you’re about to collapse in this god forsaken desk chair, “Does it make you nervous when I stare?”

Your breath hitches, and your eyes pinch shut. You can’t help but dig your fingernails into your palms in an effort to ground yourself. If only you could get it together, because this really isn’t the best time or place for this to be happening to you. You find yourself rubbing your thighs together again, not even caring if he notices this time.

You try to say his name in an attempt to be firm with him, to warn him to stop.

“Peter…”

You fucking whimper it.

He wastes no time, spinning the desk chair so you’re facing him. He places his hands on both armrests as he leans over you, effectively trapping you in.

“Oh sweetheart…” He cooes at you, head tilting in mock sympathy, and you can feel your resolve slipping away, “Why don’t we take a little break hm?”

You turn your head back towards the computer for a moment, that tiny little part of you fighting so hard to stay focused, “I…I don’t-”

He gently grips your chin, tilting your head back to face him, and god, if you aren’t the prettiest thing he’s ever laid eyes on. Your pupils are so unbelievably dilated, your cheeks are flushed a deep shade of red, and your bottom lip is plump from your consistent biting.

With the way your hair messily falls into your face and your chest heaves with stuttered breaths, he wants nothing more than to spread you out on a table, and have his way with you until you’re a trembling mess beneath him. He trails his hand up slightly to cup your cheek, thumb gently stroking over your brow bone.

“I bet that brain of yours is so tired isn’t it? All those thoughts running through your head- they’re just too much for you to handle aren’t they?”

Your legs are trembling and your head is spinning. The way he’s speaking is so new to you, but it has you ready to drop to your knees in front of him. He’s not too far off either; you’re so tired and your brain hurts. You need a break. You need-

“You need someone to make them all go away don’t you?”

Jesus fucking Christ.

You inhale sharply, his words going straight to your core. Your mouth opens and closes as you try to pry a response from your muddled thoughts, slightly resembling a fish out of water. You give up eventually, opting to let out a desperate whine instead. You can’t decide what’s more distracting- the ache between your legs or the way his hand cradles your face.

His thumb moves to trace over your bottom lip, while a mocking pout settles on his own, “Poor thing, so tired and dumb that she can’t even form a proper sentence.”

He’s right, he’s so unbelievably right. Which is why you don’t even realize that you’ve wrapped your lips around his thumb and are gently sucking on it. His eyes are filled with pure hunger as he watches you with parted lips of his own.

He gently pulls his thumb out from between your lips, not even giving you a chance to whine before replacing it with both his middle and pointer finger. You continue to look up at him, mindlessly sucking on both digits and letting yourself feel utterly blissful.

“That’s it,” he praises, “suck on my fingers baby.”

You hum in response, closing your eyes as you circle your tongue around them, hollowing out your cheeks. He lets you have your fun for another moment or two, mesmerized by the way you’ve become an absolute mess for him, before slipping his fingers out from your mouth and admiring how the drool slips down your chin.

You whine pathetically as he does so, and he cooes in response, “Shhh, c’mon pretty girl.” He takes your hand, helping you stand from your chair and guiding you over to one of the nursing cots. As he sets you down, he tries to pull away for a moment, but you don’t let him. You grip the front of his crisp white shirt between your fingers and pull him towards you, clashing your lips against his.

He huffs out a laugh against your lips, mumbling, “greedy little thing,” in between kisses. And he’s right, you are greedy, and aching, and desperate to feel him, and only him. You’re entire body is filled to the brim with nothing but desire.

Peter climbs onto the cot, hovering over you as his lips slowly make their way down your jawline, your neck, and your chest. He leaves nothing but endless hickeys in his wake as you come completely undone beneath him. He fumbles with the buttons of your shirt and the clasp of your bra, prying them both off of you, one after the other.

If you had been told five hours ago that you would be here by the end of the night, you would’ve laughed and slammed the door in that person’s face. But yet, here you are, brainless, desperate, and completely at the mercy of Peter, while his lips explore every visible inch of skin on your body.

He practically drools as the sight of your breasts, fondling them in his hands. You can’t help but moan when he attaches his lips to one of your nipples, suckling on it gently while he pinches the other one. He switches back and forth, both for his and your own pleasure. His eyes flick up to your face, watching you writhe in desperation underneath him. His cock is so painfully hard in his pants, but that’s the least of his worries right now, only wanting to hear your pretty little moans as he makes you feel good.

“That’s it darling. Don’t think, just feel. I’ll make it all feel better.”

His lips continue their attack on your skin, making their way down your tummy and to the hem of your skirt. He gently pushes your legs up, and his hands are quick to slide the bottom of the skirt up to your waist, revealing your baby pink panties.

“Oh baby…” He moans at the sight, watching as your hole pulses and flutters underneath the soaked, translucent fabric. His eyes flick up to your face once more, seeing just how fucked out you look, without him even touching you yet, “Look at how messy you are.”

He’s honestly half a second away from devouring your perfect little cunt before your sweet voice fills his ears, pausing his movements entirely.

“P-Peter…” you stutter, nervously. It might be the only word you can physically form right now, but that isn’t stopping you from expressing concern.

You aren’t a virgin, but this type of situation is new to you. Your mind has never been so clouded. It’s not that it doesn’t feel good, because, god does it feel good, you just haven’t experienced such vulnerability before. So you can��t help the way your hands tremble while his face is inches from your exposed pussy.

It takes no more than two seconds for his hand to reach up and grasp yours, squeezing reassuringly, “I got you. I’m right here.” he soothes, and you release a slow breath. He never fails to calm your nerves.

“That’s it,” he smiles, feeling your hand slowly stop trembling in his grasp, “Just relax for me sweet girl, I’ll make you feel good.” You squeeze his hand in return and he can’t help but place a gentle kiss to your inner thigh,

“If you want me to stop at any point, I will. Just say the word. Do you understand?” You nod dumbly in response, only to yelp as his other hand comes down hard against your cunt, spanking it.

“I need you to use your words for this one darling,” he chides, cupping his hand over your drooling cunt in an effort to soothe the pain, “C’mon, you can do it.”

It takes you longer that you care to admit, and you struggle for a moment or two, desperately trying to form enough words in your head for a valid response. Your chest heaves as another pathetic whimper escapes your lips, prompting another slap to your core.

Your whole body jerks this time, forcing out a desperate cry of, “Y-Yes s-sir!”

And if he wasn’t salivating at the mouth before, he certainly is now. He moans in response, thumb circling your clit over your panties, before sliding them to the side.

“Good fucking girl.”

He leans in and places a sweet kiss to your cunt, as if apologizing for striking it. You shudder at that first contact. It sends a shock through you, hyper sensitive with want. He takes your clit between his lips and sucks very gently. Your head is thrown back immediately as he provides you the relief you’ve been needing.

“O-oh Peter…”

His tongue laps at your clit before flicking it through your folds, and looking up at you through his lashes. He loves how you’re reacting as he borderline makes out with your soaked cunt. Your moans fill the air as you take what he gives you, and Peter can’t be more grateful that the nursing rooms are sound proof, your pretty little noises being for his ears only. He dips his tongue down to your weepy hole, circling it around the entrance to taste you.

“So wet for me,” he mumbles against you. You whimper, hole fluttering at how good he’s making you feel, “You taste like heaven.”

He pulls back to lightly blow on your cunt, his saliva cooling in the air. He chuckles as he watches you twitch, licking another strip over your clit and blowing on it again. You whine and shift underneath him, your hips involuntary bucking. He smirks, shushing you gently, before dipping back in to taste you.

Your back arches off of the bed while he sucks and laps at you, upper body rising and falling violently on the bed. It’s almost like he’s been starved for weeks, and your cunt is the only thing that can satiate his hunger. He savors every taste of you, like he’s never eaten anything more luscious.

You hardly even notice when he pauses to remove your panties entirely, slipping them up your legs and placing them in his back pocket.

His tongue dips inside of you while he circles your nub with his thumb. Your hips buck to meet his face and you can’t help but grind into his tongue, feeling the coil in your lower stomach beginning to tighten. Your desperate little moans and gasps fill the room as his tongue plunges inside you. Your paperwork is long forgotten at this point as your thoughts empty out of your head, being replaced with just…

Peter

A small part of you registers the fact that he’s still holding your hand as he eats you out. He’s bringing you to new heights of pleasure, reducing you to nothing but a sobbing thing beneath him, all while holding your hand to let you know your safe. To let you know he’s taking care of you.

That thought alone has your toes curling, and another pathetic cry leaves your lips.

He can tell you’re getting close, based on the intensity of your moans and the way your muscles begin to pulse. He maneuvers so his mouth is back to suckling on your clit, and one of his fingers is circling your entrance. He eyes you above him, watching your mouth part in utter ecstasy as he slides his middle finger inside of you.

You’re far gone – so far gone.

He hardly gets a chance to relish in how tight your perfect little hole is before you’re pushed over the edge, completely coming undone around him.

Choked out moans and pants fill the air, and you cum so hard around his finger it makes you lurch forward, entire body shaking. "Shh, shh,” he hushes you, "There you go. Good girl.”

He pumps his finger in and out of you, working you through your orgasm. Your body collapses back against the bed as you attempt to catch your breath, but Peter has other plans. He releases his grip on your hand, wasting no time attaching his lips to your clit once again, sucking on it with much more intensity this time.

A surprised whine escapes your lips and your back arches, legs trying to close around his head. You’re too sensitive, but he doesn’t care, arm moving to rest across your hips, holding your thighs apart to keep your legs opened, your cunt bared.

“A-Ah!” You cry out, unable to stop the way your legs are trembling. Your hands quickly find their way into his hair, needing something to desperately cling to. His finger continues to pump in and out of you as he devours your poor little cunt. Tears prick at your eyes from how fucking good it feels.

He teases a second finger at the entrance of your leaking hole, before easily plunging it in beside the first one. The stretch feels amazing, and it’s the first thing you’re able to actually vocalize since before he even started eating your cunt.

“God, fuck- feels so good- feels so fucking good Peter…need more.”

He hums around your clit, the vibrations shooting throughout your whole cunt, and your eyes roll back into your head. You can feel him teasing a third finger against your hole and you grind down into it, needing to feel more of him. He obliges, thrusting it into you along with his other two fingers, stretching you out deliciously around them.

Slowly, the sensitivity of it all begins to burn away as your next orgasm approaches once more. It builds up much quicker than before with the way his fingers fuck you open, bringing you right to the edge.

“Oh- oh fuck I-I’m gonna cum…”

You can’t help but look down at him, watching as he licks and sucks on your clit, moaning into you to let you know just how much he’s enjoying it. He eyes look up to meet yours and god he looks so good like this, hair tousled, eyes wild with desire, and his mouth coated in your slick as he suckles on your clit.

The coil within your stomach snaps as you look at him, and you’re pushed over the edge once again. Your grind your pussy down into him as you ride out the high once more, letting him work you through it.

Your slick drips down his hand as your hole clenches around him, and he pulls away from you, placing gentle kisses up and down your trembling inner thighs as you come back down.

You pant, sweat dripping down your forehead as you lay back, feeling completely blissful and floaty. Peter’s definitely done a good job at emptying your head of any and all thoughts that weren’t of him, because you’re so unbelievably fucked out.

“Your thighs are shaking so much.” His voice echoes through your head, as he runs his free hand over them, feeling them tremble from even the slightest touch.

He gives you a few more seconds to rest before a dark chuckles escapes him, and he curls his fingers inside of you deliciously. A strangled gasp fills the air and your whole body twitches when he leans back down, licking a strip from just above your hole, up to your clit. You struggle to form words of protest, already feeling twice as sensitive as last time.

“N-no! Can’t Peter- I can’t!” You sob, tears finally breaking free and rolling down your cheeks.

He lays his head to the side, resting it on your inner thigh. He pulls his fingers out for a moment, using one of them to rim your hole as he looks up at you in mock sympathy.

“Ohhh but I think you can. I think this sweet little pussy of yours can give me one more yeah?” He teases, and you shake your head, squirming, “So that’s what you’re going to give me.” He dives back in, mercilessly attacking your overstimulated cunt.

Thrashing would be the best word to define you right now, hands leaving his hair and finding anchors on the sweat-soaked sheets of the cot beneath you. Your head turns into the nearest pillows in an effort to not sound like you’re being murdered, mascara running and wisps of hair flying and soft laughs that go through your entire soul as Peter watches your struggle. As he enables it.

He returns to those sloppy kisses that let him get a taste of you. Your muscles clench and your hips lift off the bed entirely as his tongue works you out. His lips on your clit and his dispersed praises and those rough licks on your cunt like you’re laid out before him like a meal, which honestly isn’t too far off.

You can’t stop shifting, not with the pain that bubbles in your stomach from your third building orgasm. It’s intense. It’s sensitive. It hurts. You tear at the sheets, then back to his hair, blubbering like an absolute child about it. Your third orgasm approaches so quickly that it’s painful. You’re a sobbing, wild, mess beneath Peter, and he’s absolutely relishing in it.

“P-Peter…” you sob weakly, his name once again being the only word you can piece together in your fucked out little brain. It hurts so bad but it feels so good at the same time, and your senses feel like they’re dialed to 11.

“Shhh,” he places a gentle kiss right above your clit, gently stroking your thigh with the thumb of his free hand, offering you a slight reprieve, “C’mon, you can do it.”

All of a sudden his fingers are pumping into you at an impossibly intense rate, and he’s licking and sucking on your cunt like his life depends on it. Your head is thrown back, and your eyes roll into your head as he walks no, —drags—your orgasm from you with determined fists, leaving nothing in his wake.

You’re seeing hallucinations. You have to be. Colors flying across a canvas of pure white, neon dots and black floaters that have you convinced you may have died and come back to life. Your body- your muscles and sinew and bones and soul shake with the fervor of it. Convulse, really.

Peter sighs as he rises, almost like he’s just had the most refreshing glass of water after hours exercise, yet you feel like the exerted one, twitching from aftershocks and tremors. He slips his fingers from your hole, licking them clean as he admires the aftermath of his attack on your poor cunt.

You’re red, swollen, pulsing, and slickened with sweat and cum and spit. It’s a little beautiful, the way your cum is leaking out of your entrance and onto the sheets. He dips down once more, swiping his tongue against your hole for one final taste of you, and your whole body convulses, a desperate sob ripping from your lips.

“Shhh sweetheart,” he shushes, “No more, I promise. You did so good for me.”

You can hardly even hear him, your mind a thousand miles away. You feel like you’re floating on cloud nine, and your whole body is tingling. Peter climbs up the cot until he’s laying on his side above you, stroking the sweaty hair from your face. You hum in content as his sweet words and praises begin to flood into your ears, bringing you back to the present.

“There she is,” he places a kiss to your hair line, thumb stroking your jaw, “Feeling okay?” You nod still feeling floaty.

“Feels good…” You hum, and he chuckles.

“I’d hope so. It wasn’t too much for you was it?” You shake your head, easing his concern slightly. You pry your eyes open to meet his, smiling at him.

“No. It was perfect Peter, thank you…” you lean up to kiss him again, and he returns it, hand gently cradling your face. The two of you lay back down in the bed, and you rest your head on his chest. His arms find their way around you as he lets you calm down in his arms, the trembling of your body not having fully stopped yet.

It isn’t until you’re half asleep that you remember the paperwork, shooting up and scaring the hell out of Peter. The idea of doing it all, now that you’re even more exhausted, brings you to tears again. But this time, not so happy ones.

“Hey, hey don’t worry about it.” Peter’s arms wrap around your waist, cradling you from behind, “You don’t have to finish the paperwork sweetheart.”

You hiccup, shaking your head, “But Brenner’s gonna be pissed if I don’t and there’s nobody else to get it done because Miranda wanted to go out and get drunk and-”

“Listen to me,” his lips rest up against the shell of your ear, speaking to you like he would the children when they’re scared or upset. He knows that your hypersensitive and floaty state of mind is only adding on to your levels of stress, “Don’t worry your pretty little head about the paperwork. I’m going to get you all cleaned up okay? And I’ll talk with Brenner in the morning, come up with something.”

You turn to look at him, all doe eyed and puzzled, “How do you know he’ll listen to you?”

Peter smiles in return as if he knows something that you don’t, and wipes the tears away before placing a chaste kiss to your cheek, “He always does…I think I’m his favorite,” you roll your eyes, letting the comment go over your head as you grumble about wishing you were the favorite employee. A smirk takes over his face at your blatant naivety.

“I wouldn’t worry too much about it baby, now c’mon, let’s get you cleaned up.” And you oblige, letting him take care of you. He manages find some rags, wetting them and wiping the sweat and tears from your face. He uses another to clean the mess between your legs, gently shushing you when you whine in discomfort. He helps you back into your clothes, aside from your ruined panties, before you both curl up in one of the unused cots for the night.

And the next morning, if any of the other orderlies notice him holding your hand on your way out of your office, well, they don’t say a word.

———

Requested by: @hbaramas

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