#001 stranger things

[bebx]

2 legendary characters portrayed by 2 legendary actors, Johnny and Jamie !!

@twihs-blog

[shinebrightlikeanarwhal]

Will: I can hear him, feel him…

Mike: is he… is he saying anything now?

Vecna: personally, luv, I wouldn’t waste time on him. That outfit he came in was atrocious and you know it. He wore her favorite colors and didn’t even offer you a handshake or anything? Dearie? Do better you deserve much more than that. Anyway your mom friend is gay and my new puppet boy is madly in love with him. Steve ain’t it? A beauty that one.

Will:… I don’t.. I don’t feel comfortable saying everything. But he judged my life choices..

[hart269]

*The gang finding photos of 001*

Steve : So that's what Vecna looked like

Y/N : Damn

Robin : What

Y/N : He can possess me any day he wants

Eddie : Me too

[dheelan]

001 and eleven be like

[laurienotteddy]

part 5 of stranger things textposts by me

prev

[magnolias-make-me-happy]

“joseph quinn is the sexiest man alive” i say into the mic, the crowd boos. i begin to walk off the stage in shame. “no, she’s right!” i hear a voice in the back say. the lights come on. it’s jamie campbell bower.

[cuethemulti]

Mans really said 🧍

[kaylawritesfics]

Could we get a Peter Ballard x fem!reader fanfic where they fall asleep cuddling in her bed and Peter accidentally forgets to go back to his own room so they get found out by Brenner? With Peter being all protective and ‘don’t touch her’ over the reader and like trying to take all the blame and hiding her behind him to try and keep her safe? Fluffy ending please. Sorry I know it’s pretty detailed lol

71. “You can’t take her, please! I’ll do anything, I swear!”

summary: after he spends the night in your room, your secret relationship with peter is discovered.

pairing: peter ballard x fem!reader

warnings: mentions of violence, slight torture?

note: this is a little long i will add a read more tag to it tomorrow !!

You woke to the soft sounds of Peter’s delicate breathing. His messy, blonde hair was sprawled across your pillows and his head was tucked into the crook of your neck. His arms were wrapped loosely around your waist and below the white blanket that was covering the two of you, your legs were intertwined, creating a mess of limbs.

You slowly turned your body to face him, dragging a single finger down the bridge of his nose and across his lips. His face was illuminated only by the small stream of light coming in through the blinds of your window. You studied the details of his face; the way his lips were a little chapped, the way his long eyelashes fell gently onto his cheeks, and the redness of his nose, which indicated the winter weather could be felt even from inside the lab. A small smile made its way onto his face, giving away his awakening. “You’re staring,” he whispered, his eyes still closed as his arms tightened around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer to him. “You’re so beautiful, Peter,” you whispered back, continuing to draw little shapes across his face with your index finger. His nose scrunched as you found a ticklish point near the base of his ear.

Quick, constant footsteps throughout the hallway outside you room alerted both of you to the time. It was well past the time Peter would usually sneak away back to his own room. A pit of anxiety began to grow in your stomach as Peter’s eyes fluttered open and he held a finger to his lips, signaling you to remain quiet. He calmly placed a soothing kiss to the crown of your head, untangling himself from you and standing up. He had fallen asleep in his work clothes, which were now wrinkled and he looked quite disheveled. Doing his best to make himself seem more presentable, he placed an ear against your door, listening intently for any sign of approaching footsteps. When he concluded that it was safe, he cracked the door open, peering out. Before exiting, he sent you a grin and a promise to see you later.

The rainbow room was your favorite in the entire building. The children were allowed to play and explore using their talents and you were allowed more time with Peter, who often patrolled the room with you. You noticed that he looked far more presentable than he did that morning, his hair was neatly fixed and he had changed his clothes, opting for an outfit with less wrinkles. To preserve the secrecy of your relationship, the two of you chose not to interact very much in front of the children, however, the lingering glances spoke enough for the both of you. From his place next to 011, Peter caught your stare, sending you a barely noticeable wave and a tight smile.

The sound of a door opening caught the attention of everyone in the room. Dr. Brenner entered the room, eyeing each of the children before his eyes finally landed on you. “Miss Y/L/N and Mr Ballard, I need to see both of you in my office,” the tone of his voice frightened you and you sent a worried glance towards Peter, who kept his eyes on Brenner. The two of you followed Dr. Brenner out of the rainbow room and down the scarily white hallways of the lab.

Brenner’s office was a place you had visited very rarely. The walls were white and decorated only by various awards he’d won over the years. Everything seemed to have a specific place and was organized neatly. Two guards stood menacingly on either side of the room and you gulped as you suspected what this was about. Brenner took a seat behind his desk, motioning for you and Peter to take the two chairs across from him. “I suspect the two of you know what this is about,” Brenner leaned forehead, intertwining his fingers on top of his desk. “Perhaps you should blame Mr. Ballard’s blatant ignorance and disregard for security cameras,” Brenner’s dark eyes fell on you as he spoke, his tone becoming more hostile as he continued. When neither you not Peter responded, Brenner motioned the guards forward. “Take them to the electric shock room,” he demanded, standing and casually stretching his limbs.

Peter’s chair created a loud screeching noise that captured the attention of the room as he abruptly stood up. He struggled against the guard’s grip, thrashing about as he tried to free himself. The other guard quickly grabbed you by the arms, dragging you slightly. “Don’t touch her!” Peter’s unusually gruff voice rang through the air as he tried to reach for you. “It was my fault! Please, she didn’t do anything!” He begged, tears filling his waterline as he attempted once more to free himself. “You can’t take her, please! I’ll do anything, I swear!” Brenner seemed to perk up at Peter’s words and emotions, holding up a hand to stop the guard from dragging you from the room. “If Mr. Ballard wants to take the blame for this, we’ll let him. Escort Miss Y/L/N to her room and take Mr. Ballard to the electric shock room.” Peter’s eyes never left yours as he was violently dragged from the room and down the hall.

You didn’t see Peter for the rest of the day, choosing to lock yourself into your room and hide in your bed instead. As night fell, your room became too dark to see, however, as your door knob rattled and turned, a bright light filled the room from the hall. You peaked up over your blanket, watching as Peter made his way slowly into your room, softly closing the door behind him. A groan escaped his lips as he sat down on your bed, pain evident on his face. “Peter?” You mumbled, crawling over to him and wrapping your arms around his back, resting your head on his back. “Hi, darling,” he greeted, visibly relaxing at your touch. You gently pulled him down to lay beside you, your hand finding his hair. “Why’d you take the blame?” You inquired, running a hand through soft, blonde locks. He smiled wryly, closing his eyes at the feeling of your hands tugging through his hair.

“I’d do anything to keep you safe.”

[plutoswritingplanet]

White Rabbit (Peter Ballard x Female!Reader)

PART 2

a/n: how close can i get to writing monsterfricking before being called a monsterfricker?

Warnings: NON-CON (nothing too explicit, but still, be warned, be safe), bathroom-donging (once again), extensive use of a 80′s rock song as a plot device

Summary: Vecna’s Curse finally comes to take what’s his. Only thing is, he doesn’t look like the monster your friends described. 

Edit: Y'all are actually insane for giving this fic so many notes. There will be part two, most certainly, after the finale comes out. I will tag everyone in notes and in my askbox. With peace and love, what the fuck

There is a clock, ticking inside your head. It's sound filling every crevice of your brain, seeping into every fiber of your being, rattling every bone in your body until you're unable to move. You know what it means, you've seen what comes after it. The mutilated corpses of a cheerleader and that press kid are burned into your consciousness. Then, Max, floating above the graveyard, her blue eyes rolled grotesquely into the back of her head.

You haven't told anyone, as the team runs around Hawkins, looking for any clues that could help them stop Vecna's Curse.

Speaking of which, you are yet to see the abomination causing your imminent demise. It terrifies you to your very core, but under that overbearing feeling, there is another one. Curiosity. Danger feels heavy on your shoulders, and you love it, the thrill it gives you. Besides, shall things go south, you have a recorder by your side, "White Rabbit" by Jefferson's Airplane recorded on a small cassette, ready for trouble. "You can do this", is a mantra you've been telling yourself for hours now, you can survive.

The Wheeler house is lively with worried chatter, parents lamenting over their kids, in trouble again, and with the Hawkins Police nonetheless. You're sitting in the living room, head hanging low, fingers pulling at the hem of your shirt, which is currently covered in stains of various origin. Moss, mud, some blood, although you don't know where it came from. All the fault will undoubtedly fall on your shoulders. Being the only adult on scene, the only one getting caught. You curse under your breath, thinking of your friends, old and new, currently stuck in the Upside Down. Leaving you to handle everything else on the surface.

It has been a hassle, the interrogation. You got put into a stuffy room with Officer Calahan, who was strangely excited at the prospect of potentially locking up a bunch of kids, for whatever reason. It won't happen, obviously, but you're not here to break his bubble. He asks you questions with an aura of sarcastic authority, giving you patronizing nods, whenever you answer. You want to punch him, not only because your friends are currently in mortal danger, and you could do so much more to help them, if he'd just let you out. There is also the sound of a ticking clock, coming from behind his back, and the suspense drives you insane.

And a spider. Fat and dangerous, it traverses the expanse of the man's shoulder, but when you blink, it's gone.

- Can I use the bathroom? - you ask, voice barely containing all the emotions you were feeling.

The Officer looks at you, startled, as you had just interrupted another one of the monologues. He blinks, as you turn your head, and blinks again, processing your words.

- Yeah - he sounds dumbfounded.

Before the man can say anything more, you bolt out of the room, to the corridor basked in warm light of the ornate chandelier. The ticking is louder here, seemingly just a smidge away from your ear, and slowly, as if not to startle the hallucination, you turn your head left. There, on a cream wall, where normally a lovely family photo of the Wheeler's would hang, you find a round face of a grandfather's clock, staring back at you. One hand comes to life, lazily sliding from one minute to the other, a rusty clank of the mechanism filling your ears. There is a sinking feeling in your stomach, as you force your eyes away from the clock.

The world spins around you, as you fall through the bathroom door, closing it behind you. Your hands shake, as you reach for the recorder, fingers fumbling around the headphones you hastily pull over your ears. One click later, and a familiar base enters your brain, the sound of the clock barely recognizable beneath the drums.

- One pill makes you larger - you mutter under your breath, leaning heavily on the sink.

You try to control your breathing, focus on the steady rise and fall of your chest, still muttering the lyrics, like a prayer. The feeling persists, however, and you begin to sway in your place. The mirror shows your disheveled reflection in an almost mocking manner. Hair is sticking to your sweaty face, there are tears framing your eyes, and you're ghastly pale, worryingly so. Unable to focus, you close your eyes, shutting your eyelids tight. trying to block out everything but the music. Specks of light dance beneath your eyelids, and you try to follow their irregular paths, anything to bring you back.

Yet, that ticking sound is persistent, almost impatient. Waiting for the song to end. And with a click of finality, it does. Your heart jumps to your chest, as silence finally engulfs you. Your right hand flies to the Cassette player, fingers immediately finding the rewind button. Your eyes stay shut, as you listen to the whirling of the tape. And the ticking, always the ticking. Finally, it stops. A breath of relief shakes you.

- Don't play it again.

Your eyes fly open, as you give a startled gasp. The bathroom is empty, only your wracked figure reflected in the mirror. But something is wrong, you can feel it at the base of your neck, where the hairs stand up on guard. It doesn't feel like the Upside Down, doesn't look like it too, and yet, you can't shake the ever present sensation of indescribable dread.

Slowly, your fingers skim the play button, the plastic ridges dig into your skin, as you press down.

Then, something catches your hand. Delicately, like it's holding a flower.

You nearly scream, thrashing in the bathroom, turning harshly towards the shower, nails digging into the porcelain edge of the sink. Empty. Nothing.

Your heart stammers out of your chest, blood rushing through your ears in a suffocating display of panic. And the clock keeps ticking.

You're terrified now, properly. Screw all feelings of curiosity from earlier, you're pretty sure you can live without knowing. And so, even more feverishly, you fumble with the recorder, finally hitting the play button so hard, you nearly break your finger. The drums start again, and as the base joins it, you fall to your knees onto the floor, breathing heavily with relief.

- God - you sigh - Why me?

- Why you, indeed...

His voice is barely audible through the music, but you still feel it crushing through your skull. Your body freezes, as you glance up from the floor. There, just centimeters from you, stands a pair of white shoes. At least you think they're white, as the image keeps flickering in and out of existence, like a glitch on a homemade videotape. Your eyes drag up, over slender legs clad in white pants, white shirt tucked into them. Then, you finally see him. An angelic face looking at you from above. Beautiful, blue eyes, sharp features and lovely lips, all surrounded by a halo of blonde waves. An angel, truly.

You blink, and his image shifts out of existence just for a second.

- Who are you? - your voice sounds foreign in your ears, barely recognizable over the music

The man smiles a gentle smile, before kneeling down in front of you. His hands slowly creep towards yours, cradling them in a hold that is so warm and comforting, you want to melt into it without question. His eyes are so incredibly blue, it takes your breath away. And yet, despite the whirlwind of emotions, you can't stop staring into them. The man lifts your joined hands towards his lips. There isn't even a ghost of a breath, fanning your knuckles, as he places a kiss onto the bone. His image shifts again, violently, and a new feeling of slow dread creeps up your spine.

Then, a shadow passes through him, the kind facade falling into something much darker, much more sinister.

- I'm your worst nightmare - he smiles, teeth on full display, sharp and pointy.

You try to free your hands with a  yank, but he holds them close with little to no force, eyes leaving your face in favor of studying the way veins move beneath your skin.

- I have many names - he says, his voice is calm and melodic - Henry - his lips brush the outside of your left wrist - Peter - a swift kiss is placed onto the tips of your finger - One...

He lingers for a bit at the juncture between your thumb and your pointer, and you still feel no breath coming from him.

- Although, the name your friends have given me has a nice ring to it - he looks up, capturing you again with those blue eyes of his.

- Vecna - your voice comes out as a mere whisper, one you can't even hear amongst the song, slowly, but without stopping, coming to an end.

Suddenly, the man stands up, and you feel yourself being pulled up to your feet as well. It's not gentle at all, and you nearly trip, before finding your balance. Faster than you can comprehend, the man turns you around, so you're facing the mirror. You can see him fully now. He's almost a head taller than you, slender and elegant. Not at all the monster you have imagined, not the one Max told you about. He peers at your reflection, towering over you in his clean, white clothes.

- My name means very little to me now - he says again, hand coming up to tuck your hair behind, exposing your neck to him - I am very particular about the names of my victims, however - another smile has you shaking, as his wondering hands press slightly on your pulse.

You can't move, your legs feel heavy, like someone tied them down with rocks. Your heart is beating so fast, you can feel it in your throat, where his fingers drum delicately over your skin, to the beat of the song still keeping you alive.

- Chrissy - he hisses into your hair - Sounds sweet like candy, and in a way, that's how she tasted.

A shiver wrecks your body, as images of the Cheerleader's body flood your mind. Her eyes, sucked into her skull, her limbs in disarray.

- Fred - you can feel his hands on the insides of your arms, fingers dragging over your veins - Intelligent, although slightly tart, like unripe apples.

Your head starts to spin, breaths escaping you in quick puffs. They found Fred in the middle of the road, alone, abandoned, mutilated.

- Patrick - he dips his head into the crook of your shoulder, nose sliding up, towards your ear - Stern, but full of life, reminded me of walnuts.

"When logic and proportion, have fallen sloppy dead" the singer wails, and you know, your time is coming to an end. A small whimper escapes you, as slender arms encircle your frame, pushing your back into his body.

- Max - there is a spark of rage at the mention of your friends name, one, he catches in your reflection with a raised eyebrow - Strong, youthful, like mint. When I heard your name amongst thousands, I knew, you'd taste wonderful.

Your entire body starts to writhe, as the man gives your neck a long lick of his tongue, starting from your shoulder, up to the back of your ear.

- Oooh - he laughs to himself, as you watch him in the mirror, still unable to move - There is some kick to you, I can tell. Like hot peppers.

He dives down again, placing open-mouthed kisses to your feverish skin, teeth just barely scraping your pulse point.

- A name like this should be savored. This guilt you feel should be savored.

"Feed your head" the woman sings, the song swelling in your ears, so close to the end, you start to shake. As if on cue, the man slowly reaches up, his fingers tangling themselves into your hair, as he pushes them under your headphones. It takes one move, for the plastic to fall from your head, clattering to the ground.

Your eyes meet in the mirror as sudden silence engulfs the both of you. There is a victorious smirk playing around on his lips, as his right hands starts to twirl your hair around his finger. He rubs the strands, like he's sampling a fabric, bafore bringing them closer to his nose, and taking a long whiff of air.

- ...Or maybe cinnamon - me sighs, eyebrows scrunching together.

- Are you going to kill me now?

Again, images of broken bones and mutilated corpses fill your mind, you can almost imagine the wet cracking.

The man laughs, stepping away from your trembling body for just an inch, the loss of his body behind you makes you sway in place. There's this weird flickering glitch running over his figure, intensifying for a moment. He takes a long breath, you can see muscles work under any visible sliver of skin, and as he relaxes again, his form stabilizes.

That is when you realize, what you're looking at isn't real. He isn't real. This angelic, terrifying boy is just an illusion, a hallucination, meant to lull you into a false sense of security. And it almost works. Almost, because as you focus more on his eyes, they seem to become less blue, and more milky and veiny. More like a monster.

- Guilt is a fickle thing - his voice is lower, more raspy than before.

His head dips down behind you, and he plants a wet kiss to the base of you neck, teeth scraping against your skin in a way, that wrenches a whine out of your lips.

Your stomach churns with a feeling sitting too close to arousal, as his large hands begin to explore your body further.

- It never leaves, not truly. And you have so much of it. - a hand digs itself into your hip, then slides up, leasing the edge of your shirt.

- Stop.

He doesn't, fingers creeping under the fabric, squeezing the soft tissue there.

- You're supposed to protect your brother, but he keeps getting hurt on your watch. How many bones does he have to break? How many times have you failed him?

Tears spring to life in the corners of your eyes, as you try to turn away from your reflection. He's faster though, and grabs your chin, forcing you to look back to the mirror. Then, he cranes your chin to the side, forcefully, so that your face is closer to him.

- Those kids you've taken under your wing, I will devour them all, and you'll watch - he seems unmoved by your sobs, whispering the words into your wet cheek - Your father, poor father, never had the chance of seeing how much of a disappointment you really are.

His lips are soft as he kisses your tears away, tasting the saltiness with a grin. Like a chef, proud of his most delicious meal.

- I see it all, sweetness - the hand digging into your stomach climbs up, over your ribs, stopping just short of the underside of your breast.

- Please... - a choked sob escapes you, as your body tries to free itself from his iron hold.

- Shhh - he shushes you, you can't feel his breath on your lips, when he gives you a chaste kiss.

For that matter, you can't feel anything, that would suggest you're being held by a living being. There is no rise and fall to his chest, no smell, no heartbeat.

His form starts to flicker yet again, and suddenly, you feel something definitely not human sliding and swirling behind you. A constantly moving mass holds you in place and instinctively, you screw your eyes shut. You don't want to know how he looks like in reality, mind focusing back on the angelic man from before. Now, you can feel him breath, a low rumble starts in his gut everytime he inhales, like a beast ready to pounce.

- It takes - the voice coming from behind you is gruff and monstrous - A considerable amount of strength to keep this image in place.

Slowly, with every word, the man's voice comes back to the normal, melodic tone. The shifting mass on your back seizes its movements, and slowly, you allow yourself to crack an eye open.

Blue eyes, sharp cheekbones and a halo of blonde hair stare back at you in the mirror's reflection. He gives out a small chuckle, shakes his head slightly, and bends down to take another long sniff of your hair.

- There's no need for you to see my real form - he mutters into the crown of your head - After all, it's not your fear I'm after.

His hands move with unexpected speed, as the both slide upwards, under your shirt, to cup roughly at your breasts. The sound you give out is pathetic at best, as this sliver of friction sets your whole body ablaze.

- It's your guilt - he forces out through his teeth, giving your breasts another sharp squeeze.

Before you have the time to actually understand the implications behind his words, you body is being pressed forwards. The ceramic edge of the sing digs painfully into the meat of your thighs, but the feeling is swallowed completely by a slender hand worming it's way into your pants.

Your entire body rocks back and forth, as the man, Peter, Vecna, plunges two long digits into you without warning.

You feel a raw whine climb out of your throat, as you clench around his fingers, hands flailing at your sides, looking for any sort of purchase. He lets you lean on him completely, one hand massaging your breast, before abandoning it in favor of gripping your pulse.

He works you steadily and greedily, pulling sounds out of you, you'd have never imagined were possible. It feels sick, your stomach tightens into a growing coil, as the rythmic pumping shakes you to your bones.

- I...please - your words come out slurred, as your vision swims around your head.

He chuckles, seemingly unaffected, and presses his thumb down on your pulsing bundle of nerves. The sudden jolt of pleasure wrenches a scream out of you, one, he swallows, forcefully craning his neck, and pressing his lips to yours.

The kiss hurts, plain and simple. His lips, despite being pillowy soft, bite into yours with force you've never experienced in your life. Then, teeth appear, raking abused flesh, tongue forcing it's way into your mouth. It's too much, the whole thing starts to feel less like a nightmare, and more like an execution.

Your lungs scream for more oxygen, the tightening in your stomach accompanied by the sharp pain in your chest. And just when you truly think, this is how you are going to die, something entirely unexpected happens.

"One pill makes you larger and one pill makes you small"

The song enters your brain like a dose of adrenaline, waking you from your stupor. Immediately, the hand toying with your insides, retracts, leaving you unfulfilled and disappointed. The emptiness carries, as his mouth detach from yours. You can't open your eyes, you refuse to do so, too overwhelmed to see.

- Remember this - the man says into your ear, his words slowly being drowned out by music - Remember this feeling, when I come for you again.

With that, you're being released, your limp body falling down onto the floor, where you're met with gentle hands of your friends cradling you.

- Jesus, we though you were a goner! - Lucas nearly screams in your face, as you try your best to focus on the kid's features.

- Yeah! You were flying under the ceiling - Dustin shoves a finger up, and your glazed eyes follow, looking at an unidentified spot above your head.

- Why didn't you tell us? - Max is gripping your shoulders so hard, you're sure it will leave a mark.

The kids, your kids, look at you with terrified faces, as you try to stand up, bones heavy, muscles trembling with unresolved tension.

- Didn't want to worry you guys...

It's a weak excuse, and right now you're not even sure if it's true. Dustin mutters something about you being an adult idiot, and in your heart you can't disagree with him.

- Just - Max slowly let's go of your arm - Keep the headphones on.

With that, the gang makes their way out of the bathroom, you following right after them. The coil in your stomach dies down, and with it, new, overbearing feeling arises in your chest.

Guilt. Crushing guilt of wanting something so wrong you can never recover from it.

And beneath the familiar drums, and the voice, and the guitar, you hear a gentle sound of a ticking clock.

[daemonsdarksister]

When he’s great with kids 😍 >>>>>

Jamie Campbell Bower everyone. On set of Stranger Things 4.

[bebx]

how I imagine a confrontation between Vecna and Michael Wheeler would go

plot twist: they share a brain cell

[svftvluv]

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.

[hart269]

*Vecna arriving to take Y/N*

Vecna : Now you are mine

Y/N : I have been waiting for you

Vecna : Wait, what, no

Y/N : Do you know much work I had to do so you would come for me

Vecna, backing away : I don't want you anymore

Y/N : Take me away, daddy

Vecna, running : Someone save me fom this human.

[henrywintersslut]

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!

[honeybadgerwritings]

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

[strawberrybyers]

something that will always intrigue me is henry/001 telling el to think of a memory that angers and saddens her to help her become more powerful. she uses this technique only to be defeated by henry/001. it is when she thinks of her mother telling her “i love you” does she become more powerful and is able to banish henry/001 to the upside down. we are later shown mike telling el that he loves her and yes, she is able to break free from the vines wrapped around her, but she does not defeat vecna like she did in the past. don’t forget that nancy, steve, and robin were also attacking vecna at the same time as el. it is clear this plan does not work as hawkins splits in half, max is in limbo between life and death, and vecna isn’t actually dead as will tells mike that he still feels his presence.

just an interesting parallel for them to include. it just makes you think about how el acts on love and not anger. if mike’s love is genuine like the love el’s mom had for her, then we should’ve had a positive outcome, right?? so now we must ask ourselves: does mike love el the way he says he does? or does el still love mike the way she thought she did?