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usetheeauthor · 2 years ago

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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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bebx · 1 year ago

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do you guys remember these photos of Henry Creel from the deleted scene? it was supposed to be him after the massacre at Hawkins Lab, but the scene unfortunately didn’t make it to the final cut.

anyway… no one asked but I finally wrote a fic based on this particular (deleted) scene. you can read it here :)

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lovetohate001 · 2 years ago

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hii, its my first time requesting for peter-😭 but

a angst fic where orderly!reader seeing another female orderly flirting with Peter and, peter thinks its cute that reader is jealous so he flirts back. then he got confused on why reader ignores him, she only told how she felt when he finally cornered her and peter makes it up to her?? :))

also, ps. i love ur works!! <3

Brown. As In Charlie Brown?

Peter Ballard x Gender Neutral! Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

CW: angst (but jealousy?), fluff, confessions, jealousy

AN: I am alive! I haven't written for Stranger Things since last year, and I am so happy to be back. and this fic was so fun and fluffy. Bite sized and not too long! Enjoy!

“You have adjusted so well to your new position, Miss Brown.”

That was the first compliment Peter had given another co-worker in months besides you. Miss Brown this, and Miss Brown that. She was a new Orderly who had been placed on your ward after a new group of children had been brought in. Brenner had high hopes for these children and only wanted the best to handle them.

Her name was even perfect. Miss Brown. Like Charlie Brown. The smell of warm coffee at the beginning of a morning shift. Chocolate. The leaves turning for Fall. She was too perfect, and how you seethed.

“Good morning, Wilson. How are the children doing this morning. Any progress with 003?”

Wilson. You met Peter’s gaze, swooning at how kindly he looked at you. Your name wasn’t anything like Brown. It reminded you of football and shoelaces. There was nothing poetic about it, and it made your temper simmer dangerously.

“Morning,” you replied shortly, tearing your gaze away to lock on the floor. Your shoes scuffed against the linoleum, squeaking in the silence. “003 is doing well. 011 is still in conflict. But with time things should mend, we hope.”

“Well, that’s good to-”

“I have to go,” you cut him off, not sparing him a second glance as you made your way out of the hallway and to the breakroom. You needed to breathe. And your heart was in your throat, closing it up.

You shut the breakroom door behind you, sighing in relief when you saw you were alone. You made your way to the coffee machine, slow brewing something dark and bitter. Cupping the mug, you poured as much milk in as you could. If only you could wash Miss Brown away as easily as weakening your coffee.

“This is absurd,” you muttered to yourself, scoffing at how ridiculous you were being.

You had been working with Peter for a long time, and you knew him. He was kind to everyone. But before Miss Brown you had been the only other female Orderly on your ward. You hadn’t known Peter to extend his kindness to another woman before that you happened to work with every day up until now. Knowing that he was sharing his attentiveness with someone else left a pang of jealousy, and hurt, in your heart every time you saw him smiling at her.

With a sigh, you sat down on a rickety fold out chair in the corner, looking down at your sad, weak mug of coffee. This was truly a sorry sight.

“y/n?” a knock on the door.

You froze, eyes quickly flitting up to the door’s window and down again. Of course he’d come running after you, generously kind as always.

You heard the door open as you idly watched your spoon stir your coffee around.

“Are you alright? You seem off today.”

Oh, how concerned he sounded. Like he actually cared.

“I do care.”

Oh, shit you’d said that out loud, hadn’t you?

“Well, I don’t care that you happen to care,” you snapped, finally looking up at him.

He looked surprised at that. You weren’t usually like this at all. This seemed to spur him on, prodding at your thinning patience like a stick to a bear ready to leap.

“I don’t know what I did,” he started, slowly sitting down on a chair next to you. “but I would like to know what is going on.”

You stared at him. Those blue eyes staring into your green ones. Earth against water, and tumultuous with conflict as they battered against one another.

“It’s Brown,” you said simply. You took a large sip from your mug and grimaced, a frown deep in your brow.

“Brown?” he was even more perplexed now.

You got up and threw out the coffee in the basin, moving to the machine to brew another cup.

“Stop. What do you mean by Brown?” He got up and caught your wrist, stopping you from starting up the machine again to drown out his voice.

You whirled around. “B. R. O. W. N! Do I have to spell it out for you? You like Miss Brown.”

His grip on your wrist loosened and you yanked it away, turning your back on him. The grind of coffee beans filled the stunned silence. You could feel his calculating stare land on your back, a target filled with speculation and judgement, no doubt. If he thought you had gone mad, you wouldn’t doubt it.

“You’re jealous?” was what he asked once the machine had finished, a fresh shot of espresso slowly flowing into your mug.

“No.” You shoved the cap back on and moved down the station to put sugar in.

“You clearly are.” Was that the hint of amusement in his voice? Did he find this funny?

You scowled and shook your head, aggressively dumping the sugar in, not sparing the small grains that flew to the floor a second glance.

The crunch of shoes on sugar as he moved with you. This haphazardly made coffee was somewhat entertaining for him to watch. He smiled a little, charmed by how much you had seemed to lose your composure.

Just as you were about to pour milk (a significantly smaller amount this time), he stopped you. His cool hand rested gently over yours this time, pushing your hand to set the milk carton down.

“I don’t like Miss Brown, if that is what you are so ruffled about,” he said gently, his hand still there, palm down, over yours. If anyone were to come in, they’d find it a funny sight: two Orderlies, both holding the same carton of milk, one ignoring the other.

“Then who do you like?” you pulled your hand away from his in defeat. The soft clink of your mug being placed on the metal table before you turned to face him once and for all.

“You,” he said simply, a small shrug. “From how you’ve been lately, I’d say you do too. Like me, I mean, not yourself,” he laughed awkwardly and oh, the way that smile went crooked on one side made your heart flip.

“Maybe.”

You moved back a little, noticing how close he was. The soft crunch of sugar under shoes again as he moved closer to you again.

“Maybe?” that boyish smile of his never left as he leaned forward, a hand reaching up to brush your cheek.

Frozen. You were actually incapable of moving. And he was so very close to you, the soft tickle of his breath on your cheek as his lips softly pressed against yours in a closed kiss.

Your cheeks warmed as he pulled back, meeting your eyes again.

“I’ll see you after morning roll call,” he said softly, breath fanning against your lips. “Don’t be late. Brenner wants us all there at 7:30.”

Before you could say or do anything, he was gone and down the corridor. And you were left with your cooling cup of coffee and the lingering scent of spearmint and a cologne you couldn’t name.

MASTERLIST

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petersbaby · 2 years ago

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This one goes out to @jamiesdarlin >:)

Hit me - Peter Ballard x reader

Warnings: oral m receiving, rough play (slapping, forceful oral), rude/commanding language, 0 to 100 rather quickly. Idk what this is, to be honest with you, but it’s something. He def switches between evil and fluffy for the right person so that’s kinda what I did here

“The closet closest to my room, midnight. ♡”

You slide the paper under his door quickly when everyone was coming to their rooms to go to bed for the day. You come back to yours, and just wait. There was no way you could sleep at all, you couldn’t stop thinking about him.

“You can’t write notes like this.” He says, lifting it up between his fingers.

“It worked though, didn’t it?” You smile.

“You are devious. Do you do that on purpose or does that come naturally?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You say, feigning cluelessness.

“What is it that you wanted me to come here for?”

“C’mon…” you place a hand on his arm, slightly and slowly pulling him closer.

“I can’t. You know I want to touch you and you want to touch me too, but it’s something that can’t be done. You must push past these thoughts, just try to ignore them.”

“Is that what you do, hmm? Try to ignore them?” You ponder out loud, hands running up and down the front of his shirt. “You just ignore them?”

It wasn’t very bright in the room but you could tell his cheeks were blushing and his ears turning red.

“Y-yes. I try, but sometimes I fail.”

“Fail? I’m curious to know what happens when you fail.”

You feel his body stiffen and he swallows loudly, nervous. What was this? Why were you coming on so strong? There was a mutual crush but it’s never been so intense between the two of you before.

“N-nothing. Nothing happens, nothing happens and we should not discuss this.” He tries to backtrack and avoid talking about how he’d masturbate over the thought of you on many lonesome nights.

Your hand begins to fall, trailing lower and lower til it finds itself over his crotch where it squeezes firmly. He takes a sharp breath in, staring down at you with wide eyes, pupils so big there was almost no blue left.

“Hmm. Got hard real fast. You needy? You need me?”

His breath stutters.

“I want you, yes, but I can’t.”

“You’re anxious. How about I just take care of you? You don’t have to touch me if you’re too scared. I know you want to, though. You want to so bad.”

“Fuck.” He says quietly, but seriously.

He grabs your hair, pushing you down to the floor roughly. You were right, you were reading him like a book, and he didn’t like that you were starting to get a little condescending. You fall roughly to your knees, unfazed.

“Yeah? Hit me.” You smile, crazily. Already drunk on pleasure.

“You’re insane.”

He’s apprehensive. You had to be joking, but the look in your eyes said you definitely weren’t. He needs to be pushed just a little further, you think.

“Or maybe you’re still just scared. Sweet Peter, always so scared of getting in trouble with-“

Smack.

He freezes immediately afterwards, already regretting his actions. What was happening? More importantly, why did you like it?

You sit, still, in the floor, biting down on your bottom lip. You scan his body, looking down from his face. His eyes seemed to fall with yours, and they both fell to rest at the same spot.

He liked it too.

“You shouldn’t have made me be mean, you’re going to regret that, little one.”

“I like it.” You state, shrugging, looking up at him in the eyes as you start to mess with his pants. Belt first, then buttons, then zipper. He doesn’t stop you, and his length is totally freed from its confines, hanging heavy right in front of your eyes. You practically start drooling at the sight, it’s so big and so pretty. Also painfully hard.

“Do something. Now.” He threatens.

You’re shaken out of your daze by his deep voice vibrating in your ears. He sounded a little scary, his tone being one you’ve never heard from him.

You take it in your hand, licking all up and down the shaft teasingly and then kissing over the sensitive, creamy tip over and over. His hand soon finds itself back in your hair, though, a rough fistful. He uses force to push you completely down, making you take the whole thing at once. You gag a little from the surprise intrusion, whining around his cock. He pulls you off.

“And don’t tease me.”

“Okay,” you breathe, lips puffy and drool glistening on your lips.

“No. Say it. Call me what I am.”

“Oh, uh,” you blink, thinking about how vague that command was. What does he like to be called during sex? You go with the first option that came to mind.

“Okay, daddy…”

Smack.

“Master. I won’t remind you again.”

Jesus Christ. This man was even more of a deviant than you. A master kink.

“Okay, master.” You breathe.

You feel satisfied that you got it right finally and he seemed to be too, pushing you back down onto his achingly hard cock and quickly hitting the back of your throat. This time, you didn’t gag, you took it all. Wanted to be good for him.

His grip on your hair relaxed as he started to let you go on your own pace. You bobbed your head up and down, hollowing out your cheeks each time and running your tongue over his slit when you got to the top.

“Oh, god.” He panted. You silently soaked in the way he sounded, he sounded like he was drunk on something.

Maybe pleasure, maybe power, most likely both. You hear footsteps in the hall outside.

“Shh. Shut up. Be silent.” He whispered.

You obeyed, though it’s not like you could make much noise with his dick in your mouth. The footstep sounds passed, and he becomes desperate. You need to wrap this up before you get caught, you can’t afford to push it.

He takes his hand and buries it in your hair, taking control over your speed and pushing you up and down on his cock, deep throating every time the tip hit the very back of your mouth. He eventually just started primally fucking your face, chasing a release. Tears fell from the corners of your eyes and you drooled all down your chin. You take it the best you can, like a champ.

You just wanted him to cum, or more specifically, you just wanted to make him cum. You’ve wanted it so bad, thought about it so much, craved it like some kind of wild animal. The want for his seed took over you and gave you the strength you needed to give him the best blowjob he’s ever had and will ever have.

That desire came to fruition when he pushes your head all the way down once more and keeps it there as his dick twitches on above your tongue and you almost choke with the amount of cum he shoots straight down your throat. He releases you once he’s fully spent, and you swallow down every drop.

You swear that you could feel the warmth making its way down into your stomach, heating you up from the inside out. Nothing felt better than having him in you, or maybe more an extension of him. You’d feel his cock inside you one day, you assure yourself, but this was more than amazing for now.

He put himself back together, fixed his clothes, and when he looked back down at you, you were shaking and breathing heavy, mouth parted open. Still sat in the floor.

“Oh, no. No no no, that was bad.”

Guilt floods him for treating you like a toy and demeaning you when he sees your big, glassy puppy dog eyes. He grabs a clean linen from one of the shelves and hands it to you, dropping down to your level, crouching.

“Here, wipe your face off. I’m sorry. You’re just a baby, I was too rough with you.”

You clean the drool and tears from your face and giggle weakly. He was so fucking sweet.

“I liked it. I wanted it, Peter. You didn’t hurt me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Promise.” You assure him and he gives you a soft smile, nodding as if to silently say “okay.”

“Was I good?” You add, staring dumbly up at him.

“You were very good. You’re a good girl when you want to be.”

He pats you on the top of your head.

“Now get up, go to bed. Quietly.”

You slipped out of the closet door and crept back to your room with all the stealth you had, successfully not getting caught. He exits about 3 minutes after you, just in case, and goes back to his own respective room.

#peter ballard #001 #peter ballard x you #peter ballard smut #henry creel smut #henry creel x you #001 x fem!reader #001 imagine #001 smut #001 stranger things #001 x reader #peter ballard x reader

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yanderestarangel · 9 months ago

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HEADCANONS JKK | STEP!FATHER NANAMI KENTO

TW: ftm reader, praise, degradation, oc nanami (I think), manipulation, step!incest, sub!reader, dom!nanami, recorded!sex, threats, blowjob, v!sex, afab anatomy, forced feminization, use of lingerie, degradation, dark!smut, breeding, creampie, daddykink.

smut confectionery event ┆ SUNDAE ┆ forced feminization, record sex, headcanons. ˖⁺ ⊹୨ "stepfather + stepson" ୧⊹ ⁺˖

˖⁺ ⊹୨ 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓹𝓸𝓼𝓽 𝓫𝓮𝓵𝓸𝔀 𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓼 𝓭𝓪𝓻𝓴 𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓪𝓭𝓿𝓮𝓻𝓽𝓲𝓼𝓮𝓭 𝓸𝓷 𝓽𝔀. 𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓮 𝓲𝓯 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓭𝓸𝓷'𝓽 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓭𝓸𝓷'𝓽 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭 ୧⊹ ⁺˖

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ꒰ঌ ♡ ໒꒱ ⊹ ࣪ ˖⊹ ࣪ ˖ ꒰ঌ ♡ ໒꒱ ⊹ ࣪ ˖⊹ ࣪ ˖ ꒰ঌ ♡ ໒꒱ ⊹ ࣪ ˖⊹ ࣪ ˖ ꒰ঌ ♡ ໒꒱ ⊹ ࣪ ˖⊹ ࣪

𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓶𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓼 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓻𝓮𝓫𝓵𝓸𝓰𝓼 𝓪𝓻𝓮 𝔀𝓮𝓵𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓮<3

♡ 𝐒𝐅𝐖 ♡

STEP!FATHER NANAMI KENTO - Who started dating your mother because it was convenient for him to have company, he didn't really love her, but he was already forty years old and needed meaning in life. But he didn't expect that he would meet the new obsession of his life in an unconventional way... You, the son of his future wife.

STEP!FATHER NANAMI KENTO - Who was astonished by your beauty and beauty, he asked your mother everything about you ─ what college you went to, what you liked or didn't like and even more intrusive details, in this case if you had a boyfriend or girlfriend. Your mother answered some questions and he diverted her focus by saying "They were questions to try to be a good enough stepfather." You on the other hand didn't like his intrusion into your life and home... He noticed that and soon thought of a way to try to turn things around in his favor.

STEP!FATHER NANAMI KENTO - Who knew you didn't like the idea, initially your instinct said internally that there was something wrong there, but you couldn't get in the way of your mother's happiness, and he would use everything to his advantage. He started complaining to your mother that you didn't accept him as a father figure, making your mother give you an hour-long lecture talking about how his co-worker and now boyfriend was good to you and tried to be your father even if you didn't let him. Kento smirked when he saw your angry face, he knew that now you would have to let your guard down with him and finally he could act according to his initial plan.

STEP!FATHER NANAMI KENTO - Who deliberately goes shirtless and has sweatpants hanging loosely around his hips every morning in the kitchen. He smiles at you while the blonde hair falls on his face and the purple circles under his eyes and the woody perfume that leaves his skin, a happy path of hair would shyly follow to his crotch, giving an extra touch to his muscular appearance, especially the thick veins that they continued from his arms to his biceps. He would smirk at you as he would ask you if you slept well and if you were hungry ─ he would still see the reluctance in your eyes and would approach you, kissing the back of your hand lightly. "I'm not your enemy pretty boy... I just want to be the best for you, you know that right?" The blonde man's voice was husky and seductive, like a balm, as if he was bringing you into a tempting trap.

STEP!FATHER NANAMI KENTO - Who makes you feel sorry for him, manipulating you, saying that your mother didn't pay as much attention to him as she did at the beginning of the relationship and how he needed to work extra hard to make up for your household bills, saying that you were the only person who still paid for him staying in that house and putting up with your mother... ( Which was a lie, Nanami did everything he lied that your mother did, he ignored her and preferred to spend his money to buy you gifts or even buy you a car go to your college. ) he would look at you with his brown eyes eyes and place a hand on your thigh. "You'll never leave my side... Right my dear son?"

STEP!FATHER NANAMI KENTO - Who gradually manipulates you into staying on his side every time your mother fights with him. Saying that you can't sleep in his room because she doesn't want him there and asking if he can sleep on the floor in your room ── mentally he will be praying for you to accept that he stays in the room and offer your bed to him. If you do the second option, the blonde's heartbeat will accelerate to the point where you can hear the sound of his heartbeat. He couldn't sleep that night, controlling himself as much as possible not to touch you and make you his even in your sleepy state. Nonetheless Kento couldn't, he wanted you to want him equally as he wanted you.

STEP!FATHER NANAMI KENTO - Who encouraged your mother to accept the company promotion and go traveling with her bosses for days to be alone with you. He calculated exactly when she was going to leave and called the company to say that he was sick and couldn't make it, returning home to be with his sweet stepson and finally putting his final plan into practice. Make you his little toy.

STEP!FATHER NANAMI KENTO - Who waits for you to arrive from your appointment while happily cooking a meal for you; He saw you notice his effort and place an innocent kiss on his face. As he resumed preparing the dinner, his fingers trembled slightly over the stove. He couldn't help but think about how your kiss felt on his cheek, the warmth and tenderness that radiated through him. His mind raced with thoughts of you, imagining the future they could have together. He didn't just want to be your father figure, but your lover, to adore every inch of your body just for him.

STEP!FATHER NANAMI KENTO - Who listened intently to you and your day out at college, with his eyes always trying to find yours. "That's wonderful, darling," he praised, his voice velvety smooth. "You truly are such a good boy, always taking your responsibilities seriously." He came closer, running his thumb over your lower lip and feeling like it was the perfect opportunity ─ Then Nanami couldn't resist any longer. Leaning in, he captured your lips in a searing kiss, his hand sliding up your thigh beneath the table. His tongue probed your mouth eagerly, tasting the sweet essence of your youth. "I want you so badly, lad." he growled, his voice hoarse with desire. "I've wanted you since the first day I laid eyes on you."

♡ 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 ♡

STEP!FATHER NANAMI KENTO - Who soon made you submit to him with dominance and words of affection, bending you over the table and sticking his thick, veiny hand into your underwear ─ finding your clit easily and applying the necessary pressure to make you moan and whimper beautifully. "Such a good boy, submitting to your stepfather," Nanami purred, his fingers expertly stroking your clit through the fabric of your underpants. He savored the way you responded to him, your moans filling the room like music to his ears. He slipped his finger into your damp entrance, coating it with your arousal before pulling away. "Is that what you want, my prince? To be touched by me? To be owned by me?" He asked, his voice husky with lust. "Tell me, and I promise to give you everything your heart desires." With a satisfied hum, he stood up abruptly, all traces of gentleness gone. Kento had finally trapped you in his trap, and you fell like a needy bunny.

STEP!FATHER NANAMI KENTO - Who forced you to wear expensive lingerie that he bought for you. The silk and lace fabric was short and hugged your curves, practically not even covering your breasts ─ your cunt wet your panties while you saw your stepfather's hands wander to your cell phone and press the record button, starting the perverse and forbidden little show of you two. "You're so eager for me, aren't you, my pretty little boy... You're such a slut for me." He circled around you, the camera capturing every angle of your shapely body adorned in the delicate lingerie. His fingers trailed along the lace, teasingly grazing your sensitive skin. "Spread your legs wider, boy," he commanded, his voice low and commanding. "I want to see that wet pussy of yours, ready and waiting for me."

STEP!FATHER NANAMI KENTO - Who saw you obediently followed his instructions, your arousal evident through the soaked fabric of your panties, Nanami couldn't resist a chuckle. "Look at you, my dumb, pretty boy..." He mocked as he pinched one of your nipples behind the thin silk fabric of your bra, making you moan like you were in heat. "Now, keep being a good boy and suck daddy's cock, can you do it right?"

STEP!FATHER NANAMI KENTO - Who forced you to suck his cock, pulling your hair while you felt the tip of his dick massage your soft cheeks. His camera clicked steadily, capturing your submission, sealing your fate as his willing pawn. Though he had no intention of betraying you, the threat hung heavy in the air, a tool to keep you obedient and submissive. "You know what happens if you disobey, don't you?" He warned softly, thrusting into your mouth rhythmically. "Your mother will see exactly what her little boy has become." Nanami threatened between moans, as he took his dick out of your oral cavity and slammed the hard shaft into your warm and wet tongue.

STEP!FATHER NANAMI KENTO - Who dragged your panties to the side and rubbed the hot tip of his fat cock across your swollen clit, seeing the quivering mess you were. Slowly, methodically, he began to pump into you, your moans filling the room like a symphony of surrender. Each thrust drove him further into your core, claiming you as his own possession. "Such a good boy, taking it like a whore for his stepfather.... Beg for more, prince," He commanded, leaning down to kiss your neck. "Beg for my release, for the chance to carry my child, You want daddy to make you daddy too, don't you? You're going to be a beautiful father baby boy...Carrying my children around like the beautiful man you are." His fingers would find your clit, rubbing it in firm circles, intensifying your pleasure. Your moans grew louder, filling the room without caring if the neighbors would hear or not. "That's it, my sweet boy," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. "You're doing so well, taking me so obediently."

STEP!FATHER NANAMI KENTO - Who fills you to the brim with his hot, thick seed, the tip of his cock rhythmically hitting your sweet spot even as you tremble and feel completely filled by him. He takes his cock out of your sensitive hole while sticking three fingers inside, He would soon look into your eyes and smile. "You're going to be a daddy's boy and save all my seed right?" With a quick pat on your head, he turned off the camera and pocketed his phone. "Good boy," he muttered, already planning the next encounter. "Don't disappoint me." Though the threat still loomed, it was clear that Nanami found satisfaction in his domination. After all, what better way to ensnare someone than through their deepest desires? And you, dear boy, were caught in his web.

𝓭𝓪𝔂 𝓸𝓷𝓮 𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓽𝓮, 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝓾𝓷𝓭𝓪𝓮𝓼 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝔂'𝓻𝓮 𝓰𝓸𝓷𝓮....𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓮 𝓫𝓪𝓬𝓴 𝓽𝓸𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓻𝓸𝔀 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓷𝓮𝔁𝓽 𝓫𝓪𝓽𝓬𝓱 𝓸𝓯 𝓼𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓽𝓼 🍰

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ode2rin · 1 year ago

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MAKE YOU MINE .ೃ

pairing. itoshi rin x gn!reader

genre. best friends to lovers | pining | light angst to fluff

in which: rin was never ready, so he watches you go with your boyfriend, wishfully thinking it was him instead.

💭 thank you for the request @/saetorinrin (unaffectionate)!

best friends are supposed to knock some sense into you, that's what they're for.

fortunately for you, your best friend of twelve years, itoshi rin, has always been quite good at it. right now, you're hoping he'll at least be kind while doing so.

“i don't know why you keep on going back to him. he looks like a fucking bull reincarnate, and he treats you like what? yeah, like a pup he dogs around.”

that’s wishful thinking, though. none of rin's words are known for their kindness.

you've known since a tender age of ten that both itoshi brothers have a knack for colorful insults — or rather, they insist it's a form of descriptive artistry. moments like these make you wish you could smack your younger self for befriending your teal-eyed neighbors. you really should have avoided them like the plague from the very first glare they shot your way.

if you did, you wouldn't find yourself sitting on a swing in the park near both of your houses, while rin spends the past few minutes expressing his displeasure about you getting back with your ex.

but what’s done is done. growing up with them wasn't all bad, except for that messy fiasco between sae and rin that left you caught in the middle, trying to mend their broken bond.

in the end, you chose rin’s side. for what reason? that's a reminiscence best saved for another day.

right now, your priority lies in letting rin hear a piece of your mind for his way of describing your ex — or boyfriend? actually, you're not sure anymore.

“you’re being mean, rin.”

“and you’re being stupid, y/n.”

“you won’t get it.”

“won’t get what? that you’re being treated like absolute shit?”

that’s it. he pushed enough buttons now. you stood up from the swing to face the 6-foot tall man in front of you.

“you won't get it because you’ve never loved anyone before! and you sure as hell have never been fucking loved!”

rin, before this moment, was sure he's accustomed to pain.

but now, he realized he wasn't.

realizing what you've just said to your best friend, your eyes widen, and you immediately reach out to touch his arm, frustration turning into regret. you didn't mean that — god, you really didn't.

“rin, i... i didn't mean—”

“save it.”

you were right about the latter. but the former? rin wants nothing but to let you know otherwise. if only you goddamn knew. but that's just it for rin too — wishful thinking.

because you're not done loving your boyfriend, and he knows he's merely using that as an excuse. if honesty were to intervene, he wouldn't be ready to let you know.

how many years does one need to be ready to confess to their best friend of more than a decade anyway? he doesn't want to find out.

rin heard your whispered apology, and his heart sank. he watched as you lowered your gaze to the grass beneath your feet, the weight of regret palpable in the air.

“come on, it’s getting dark. let’s go home,” he suggested, voice tinged with concern.

“actually, he’s picking me up here. mom knows already.”

of course. of course, he's picking you up blocks away from your house. is that how things work now? if it were up to rin, he'd personally ask your mom to take you out on a monday evening. you know, like a respectful person would do?

yet again. if it was him. another wishful thinking.

“where the hell is he, then? i am not leaving you here,” rin stated, his frustration once again seeping through his words.

“he's just a little late —”

“or ditching you again?”

“rin, please. just leave. i don't want to start again,” you pleaded, the exhaustion evident in your voice.

“fine.”

every step rin took away from you felt like chains dragging along, pulling him back with reluctance and impending regret. but he knew he had to leave.

he didn't have a place to stay here, not in this park, and certainly not in your heart.

it had been a week since you got back together with your ex, and in that time, rin hadn't uttered a single word to you. his silence was a constant presence, weighing heavily on the air between you. in the past, you found solace in his silence, finding comfort in the unspoken understanding that existed between you. but now, it felt suffocating, as if every attempt to say his name would only add to the tension.

you didn't blame rin for giving you the silent treatment. after all, the hurtful words you had spoken had cut deep.

rin had been harsh, yes, but you knew it came from a place of concern. he was your best friend, and looking out for each other was what you do. deep down, you couldn't deny that there was some truth in what he had said about your boyfriend. there had been moments when he treated you poorly, but that was normal, right? every relationship had its ups and downs, and this was just one of them. and perhaps, in rin's eyes, you were being stupid, but when weren't you, in his opinion?

still, you should have known better. you shouldn't have said what you did. not when you know yourself that he’s been loved. even if it was hidden and unspoken, it still counted, didn't it?

but despite the silent treatment, rin never failed to walk you home. even when he was wearing his sweaty jersey after a rigorous practice, he would be there outside your classroom, waiting for you. walking behind you, not saying a word, but his presence was felt. occasionally, he would walk beside you, especially when you were about to reach the busy side of the neighborhood.

every single day of the past week, he had walked you home.

and even back then starting from the days of school, rin never lets you walk alone in the dark.

today, however, you had to tell him that you wouldn't be walking with him. you had a date with your boyfriend, and he was waiting for you outside the school.

grabbing your bag and heading towards the door, you caught a glimpse of rin's duffel bag and his back. he was waiting for you again. rushing over to him, you spoke up.

“rin, i won’t be able to walk with you today. we’re going out. he’s waiting for me outside.”

rin simply looked at you, then nodded. he turned his back to you, but you could swear there was something he wanted to say.

that was the thing with itoshi rin. he never spoke when you needed him to.

rin was right. he had always been right. and you, well, you were just fucking stupid.

as you reminisced about the earlier screaming match with your now ex-boyfriend, tears threatened to well up in your eyes.

i’m such a fucking idiot.

you had known deep down that you had settled, but you never expected him to stoop so low. part of you wanted to say good riddance, but the truth was that time spent with a person would always leave a mark, whether you wanted it or not.

it was past 9 pm, and that prick had the audacity to drop you four blocks away from your own house. you wanted to scream at him, to demand basic human decency, to drop you off at your doorstep. but another part of you, fueled by the remnants of pride, refused to beg for the bare minimum again. so, despite your nervousness about walking alone in the dark, you slammed the car door in his face and decided to walk the rest of the way on your own.

it had only been five minutes of walking when you felt the first raindrops fall on your forehead. the realization of what was about to happen made you want to scream at whoever was watching from above. how dare they make you this unlucky?

great. just great.

the drizzle quickly escalated into a full-blown rain, showing no signs of stopping any time soon. a few blocks ahead, you spotted the park where you and rin used to hang out.

even in your darkest times, he’s still in your mind. it’s funny as it is ironic.

if only you had stayed content with loving your best friend from afar, maybe you wouldn't be feeling this hurt, right?

maybe you wouldn't have ended up looking for love in all the wrong places when the only place you truly wanted it to blossom had been right beside you all along.

exactly ten minutes before rin’s usual bedtime, his phone rang, your name shown on the screen. and for some reason, he could feel his heart leap out of his chest from how fast it was beating.

something was wrong.

without wasting a second, rin answered your call on the second ring.

“hello?” he said, anticipation heavy on his heart. he needed to hear your voice.

but anticipation was immediately replaced by seething anger and heightened worry as he heard your sniffs on the other end of the line.

“where are you?”

“rin... i know you're mad at me, but i didn't know who else to call–”

“it's raining. where the hell are you?” rin's voice grew heavy with indescribable anger, each word dripping with his overwhelming emotions.

“he dropped me off near the school, but i'm here by the park now. i–”

"stay where you are. i'm coming. don't end the call. i need to know you're safe." or else i will fucking lose it.

it’s these times that rin was glad he’s an athlete. within five minutes, he arrived at the park, his strides quick and determined. he would have reached you even faster if it weren't for the umbrella he was holding and the sound of your sniffs and sobs on the other end of the line, causing his heart to sink and his steps to falter.

he doesn't even let a goddamn mosquito come close to you, but that asshole had the audacity to make you cry? how dare he.

the rain had lessened compared to its earlier downpour, it was now more of a drizzle. but if you had been here before calling him, that meant you had been standing under the rain for almost an hour. with that realization, rin thinks your ex should watch his back from now on; he would never know when a ball might come flying straight at him — accidentally, of course.

as rin reached the park, his eyes scanned the area, searching desperately for you. and there, in one of the benches, he saw you. your head was tucked into your knees, one hand hugging them tightly while the other clutched the phone to your ear.

he swore, he fucking swore, he could feel his heart pounding in his throat at the sight of you.

ever since you entered rin's life, you taught him a lot of things. you taught him everything about how life was better when you had someone to lean on.

but most of all, everything rin knew about love, he knew from you.

and when he realized he loved you but couldn't let you know, the love he knew became intertwined with all the pain he learned.

this is hurting him. you, you were hurting him.

maybe you were right all along.

“you're right, y/n,” rin whispered into the phone, his voice barely audible as he stood a few feet away from you, the umbrella slipping from his grasp. he still had his phone pressed to his ear.

rin couldn't hear anything but the pounding of his own heartbeat and the soft pitter-patter of raindrops hitting the ground.

how many damn years does it take to work up the courage to spill your guts to your best friend of more than a decade? rin found out that sometimes, all it takes is one look at them in pain to make you throw caution to the wind. screw all the timing and planning.

“rin…” you called out, looking around to locate him.

locked in a gaze, time seemed to stand still as rin's eyes traced the contours of your face. your eyes, red-rimmed and soaked from the rain, revealed what you had endured. your drenched clothes and disheveled hair painted a picture of you running around in this rain. he couldn't help but think that you looked like a wounded soul, stripped of your own heart.

“you're right,” he repeated once more, and he was certain you could hear him, judging by the look of confusion on your face.

it wasn't a “now or never” moment for rin.

it was a now or never love another soul ever again moment. because to rin, it will always be you and him in the end. and that’s no wishful thinking, but a promise he made to himself.

there will be no after you, but just you. that was it for itoshi rin.

so he has to let you know. the hell with what happens next.

“about last week, you’re right about that. i would never get it,” he paused, taking a deep breath, “i would never get how someone could ever treat you this bad by someone who claims to love you. because i have loved you since we were kids, and i would rather die than leave you out here alone in the pouring rain.”

if this was what you called love, then maybe you taught him wrong.

rin could see how your eyes widened at what he said. and right then and there, he prepared himself for the worst.

it’s happening.

rin ended the call. he couldn't bear to hear your immediate response, fearing the rejection he had long braced himself for. with the umbrella in hand, he made his way towards you, his eyes focused on the wet ground, avoiding direct contact with your gaze.

you can reject him later. he needs to get you home first.

“come on, let’s go,” was the only thing rin said. he placed the umbrella over your head, shielding you from the rain while he stood exposed, allowing the droplets to soak him further.

you gazed up at him, seeking his eyes, “can you look at me, rin?”

and see the look of pity in your eyes? even at these moments, you’re cruel to him.

“i don’t want to.”

undeterred, you persisted, “why?”

because i’m about to lose you.

“i made peace with it a long time ago,” rin admitted, “let's just go. you're going to get sick.”

“say it again.”

your gaze held unwavering, demanding more from him. there was a longing in your eyes, a hunger for honesty. you craved his words, his confession – you need rin to speak now or else you will never know peace.

“no.”

“then i’m not going anywhere. say it agai —”

“fine! i have loved you since we were kids and i have loved you ever since i'm yet to even know what it was i was feeling for you! now, please, let’s go!”

silence enveloped the park. but rin could hear his own heart beating in rhythm with the soft pitt patts of the rain.

this was it then? twelve damn years. all those years, now dissipating like raindrops lost in the drain.

the rain continued to pour, serving as a backdrop to the delicate dance of emotions unfolding between you. each droplet seemed to echo the passage of time, washing away the years of looking at you in a lovelorn gaze.

rin knew where this was headed. he may not have watched many romance movies, but confessions like these – he had seen them before. this was yet another addition to the countless stories of shattered dreams lost to the rain.

but then as fate would have it, it will always intervene.

and so, as if a radiant sun had broken through the stormy clouds, a smile bloomed on your face, casting away the shadows of doubt in rin's mind.

“i’ve been waiting for those words my whole life, itoshi rin.”

rainbows really do appear after the pouring rain.

but only for a fleeting grace of moment in the sky.

“but i can’t, rin. not now. i’m too hurt to love you freely.”

the confession escaped your lips, heavy with the weight of past heartbreak and lingering pain. and to rin, it felt as if the rainbows had faded, leaving behind a somber reminder of the scars etched deep within.

it would be a lie not to admit that he was disheartened, but nonetheless, rin understood.

but rin was no saint; he can be selfish. he wants to be selfish for you. so there he knelt, bringing himself eye to eye with you, his hands gently cupping your cheeks.

“i’ll wait. i can wait,” it’s not a lie that the younger itoshi had a penchant for being selfish as he is selfless.

but he has waited for you for as long as he has learned to kick a ball. so what's a little more?

“are you sure?” the question escaped your lips, a plea for reassurance.

if it means it’s you and him in the end after all, then he’s nothing but definite.

rin's hands on your cheeks tightened gently, his voice a gentle murmur that danced along the edges of your heart, “take all the time you need. by the time you're done, i'll make sure to make you mine.”

the raindrops, cascading around you like tears from the heavens, seemed to pause in reverence as rin's words hung in the air.

as the rain began to subside, rin leaned closer, his forehead gently pressing against yours. your eyes closed, feeling his breath mingling with yours, you hear him softly sighed against your lips.

“i’ll treat you so good, y/n. so good. fuck, you have no idea.”

sure, you’re the first person itoshi rin has ever loved. but he can show you. better than your shitty ex ever could.

if there’s anyone who can most definitely show you what love was truly like, it will be him.

for a few precious moments, time seemed to stand still as both of you remained in that intimate embrace, rin's hands tenderly cradling your face, and your gaze locked in the depths of his teal eyes.

“let’s go home?” rin asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

“only if you’ll walk with me.”

rin's lips curled into a small, affectionate smile at your hushed response. he reached out, extending his hand toward you, a silent invitation. “i've been doing that for the past years.”

and he’ll continue to do it.

few years from now, he will make sure he’s the man you’re walking with. be that on the way home, or down the aisle.

because to itoshi rin, it will always be you and him.

note. no thoughts, just pure vibes here. just kidding! here's the first request in my milestone event, and i enjoyed writing this despite it being shitty as an outcome. thanks for reaching this far!

💭 back to: milestone event

#☁️ my ode to you #first milestone event!#writing: 001 #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi rin #itoshi rin fluff #itoshi rin x y/n #blue lock x reader #blue lock imagines #blue lock fluff #bllk x reader #bllk imagines #rin itoshi x reader #rin itoshi

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levandright · 29 days ago

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im a very introverted person who takes a long while to get close n comfortable with people, but when im really close i turn into the weirdest, and most spontaneous person ever. i generally have a hard time trusting others due to issues from the past, and don't easily forgive ppl if they did me wrong. i tend to not take care of myself properly, and forget to eat properly. my love languages are quality time and physical touch.

‎im an aries, my ideal type is someone who can match my energy and shares the same interest, opinions and values on important things. someone who's kind and respectful to everyone but not touchy with people except close friends.

‎i love love childhood friends to lovers and trouples similar to that! im on the aromantic spectrum (demiromantic) so i need to know/been friends with the person before feelings develop. i love winter, and my fav hobbies are: reading, playing games, painting and dancing!

‎enha or dream <3 and a playlist for me! (thank you in advance pooks, hope your day is well 💜)

FINDING YOUR MATCH...

MATCH FOUND! your first match is... MARK LEE

MARK'S first impression of you was that you were the shy and quiet type, but that quickly changed after knowing you for a few months. your slow transition of shy, and introverted to loud, and spontaneous was quite the surprise if you asked him. he found it quite cute how you showed your true personality as you got to know each other more though!

MARK noticed that you seemed to hide things when you first met, but when you guys finally got together and told him how you had a hard time trusting people because of your past he's understanding about it! he makes it known that whatever you tell him will be kept between you two only.

MARK worries how you don't take yourself well, he will make you promise to him that you'll start eating better, and start treating yourself better in general. makes sure he takes the time to message you on his free time, and breaks to check up on you even in his hectic schedules!

MARK will always make sure he has time for you even with all the comebacks, and promotions on his way. when you guys are out on dates, he always has his hands holding your hands. but oftentimes, you guys will be just at home laying in bed cuddling, and basking in each other's presence while watching a show or movie.

MARK loves to go out on walks with you during winter, and drink hot chocolate together <3 cuddling in your bedroom while you rewatch classic christmas movies.

MARK loves watching you when you're painting, your focused expression being so cute to his eyes. he would love to hear you talk about your favorite books, and maybe he'll give it a read too when he's interested in the story(totally not to talk about it with you) will teach you the steps of some of their songs when you ask him too. will be so so patient when you struggle with a certain step, and would break the steps down in an easier way for you to get it <3

MATCH FOUND! your second match is... PARK JONGSEONG

JAY is such a gentleman, always always has you as one of his top priorities. when he's back home, not busy with tours, promotions, and back to back comebacks he's at your apartment cooking for the both of you. SPOILS you to heaven and back (get it? chase atlantic heaven and back? sorry i'll stop-), sometimes you worry how much money he spends on you... books you've been wanting to read, painting materials you ran out of and the list goes onnnnn.

JAY asks you to teach him how to paint! he loves watching you paint, but he loves it even more if he can join you <3 he wouldn't be as good as you, but he'd do his best to try and paint you! you always praise him for trying his best, and he LOVES it. enjoys going out on picnic dates where you can both paint!

JAY would teach you how to play the guitar if you showed interest in learning it! is a good teacher. probably gets distracted when you're focused on playing the guitar with your eyebrows furrowing, and your adorable focused look. he'll randomly kiss your cheek sometimes which breaks your focus, and turn you into a huge blushing mess once you realize what he did.

your custom playlist made by yours truly <3

✮ lev notes : first matchup for my moot honeychocos <3 hope you love this oomf, had a fun time thinking of your match hehe. i will note that i will write at least 2 matches in reqs with two or more groups but the 2nd matchup will have less content than the first one. ✮ want to find your own match? apply here! curious about other matches?

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ransprang · 1 year ago

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thank you @qlassicc for supporting our kofi <3 here is the last boi!! we hope you liked all the hcs!! we love your taste in men it's so wild, you go girl

if anyone else wants personalised hcs this is our ko-fi

Stranger things - Henry creel - SFW HCs

Whenever you try to be affectionate with Henry or try to spoil him he’d be confused. He’s not used to being attended to. It feels foreign to him, but it will take him some time to get used to.

He hates all of humanity, so you don’t need to worry about him cheating or being disloyal. It’s just you and him in the Upside Down <3

Your emotional side is not a challenge for him at all. With his telepathic powers he reads your mind whenever he wants to and is easily able to tell what is wrong.

If someone hits on him or checks him out and you tell him, he will instantly use his telekinesis to torture them.

He’s totally ok with you getting heads for him, even if you just do it for fun. If you choose to be a serial killer with him you guys would be such a power couple :3

To mess with Mike and the gang you would use your cosplay skills to make yourself and Henry look like Vecna and the mindflayer for Halloween.

He is very thankful for your devotion and likes to ask you for cuddles, maybe even your sweaters. As he hates being cold, he gets so happy when you are clingy with him allowing him to simply roll up with you and forget his woes.

Growing up Henry was a sensitive boy, and was very attuned to other people’s emotions. He would notice your little mood swings and telekinesis little snacks or presents for you, if he thought you were feeling down.

Henry gets super careful when you're hugging him and fall asleep on his shoulder. He will make sure to stay extra still, he wouldn't want to wake you up knowing how much of yourself you give to him.

Henry knows he speaks in an unusual tone most of the time, but he knows for sure that one of your 100 personalities will hear him, understand him. He trusts you.

your strange girlies,

admins sar, san & sav

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sapppy-cocktail · 2 years ago

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Valentines Special

Sadie Sink x Reader

Masterlist

"Y/N!" A familiar voice calls out from behind me. I turn around to be met with Sadie jogging towards me. "Hey Sadie." I say smiling at her as she smiles brightly at me. "Did you need something?" I ask as I suddenly remember she ran to me. "Do you- Can I?" She begins to say but pauses before restarting her sentence. "I just finished my scenes for the day so I thought maybe we could hang out?" She suggests, her hands playing with the sleeves of her blue and yellow 80s jacket. I glance down at my wrist. 6:25. Earlier than usual. "Yeah, of course. Did you wanna take off your clothes?" I ask looking towards her trailer. "What?" She asks, her voice higher than usual as her widen and eyebrows knit together. My eyebrows furrow and my head tilts at her reaction. "Your clothes? You're still in your clothes from set?" I say wary, unsure if my words could cause the same reaction. She raises an eyebrow at my words but looks down and notices her clothes and her eyes widen. "Oh! Right. Yeah, of course." She says as she looks back up at me. "Come with me." She says as she reaches out for my hand and pulls me towards her trailer.

"So what do you have in mind?" I ask as I take a seat on her bed and watch her disappear into her bathroom. "Well, since it's Valentines day and we both don't have dates I thought it'd be nice to go to a restaurant. Something we could do as friends and enjoy." She says looking at me through the bathroom mirror as she holds 2 hangers with a dress on each, moving 1 in front of her before the other. I nod at the ground before her voice calling out to me makes me watch her as she walks out of the bathroom. "What do you think?" She asks as she holds the 2 hangers, one on each side. "Red or Black?" She asks as she moves them in front of her to look at them properly. "You already know what I'm gonna say." I say, a smile tugging at my lips as her eyes meet mine. "Black. Got it." She says rolling her eyes and walking to her wardrobe to hang the red back.

While Sadie changes I decide to mention the early finish today. "So you guys finished filming early today." I call out to her as I walk around her trailer. "Yeah. The Duffers said something about them needing to repeat a scene from California with Finn and Noah so I left early." She says making me nod. "So did Millie, Maya, Joe and the others finish early?" I ask as she slides the bathroom door open and grabs her makeup bag before returning to the bathroom, this time the door open. "I think so, I'm not sure." She says as she begins washing her face. "What time did you want to leave?" I ask watching as she makes a move for a face towel. I stand up and pass it to her. "Thank you. I was thinking maybe 7? Does that work?" She asks looking back at me. "Yeah. Wait. Where are we even going?" I ask as I realise I had no idea where we were going.

She turns back at me once more and and smiles before facing back to the mirror. "It's a surprise." She says making me groan. "Well obviously somewhere fancy." I say as I fall back onto the bed. I hear her laugh before speaking up. "What makes you say that?" She asks as if she doesn't know how I'm going to respond. I look at my watch. 6:45. "I guess I should go get ready." I say pouting as I walk to her door. I look back at her and she's already paused in her movement, her pink makeup sponge in her hand as she smiles at me through the mirror. I smile back before opening the door and shutting it behind me and as I begin making my way to my trailer I decide to send Millie a text. The one time I get a day off you finish early? Lucky bastard. After sending it I turn my phone off and slide it back into my pocket before opening the door to my trailer.

I look at myself once more in the mirror, looking myself up and down for anything I can improve. "Hey Siri, what's the time?" I call out to my phone that's charging on the other side of the room. "It is 6:58pm." She replies making my eyes widen as I quickly pull my phone out of the wire and shut the door, locking it after me. But then I realise I forgot the red roses I had just gotten. Quickly after unlocking my trailer, running in grabbing the roses and locking the door once more I begin speed walking to Sadie's trailer. As I walk I realise it's pretty silent. Where is everyone? I ignore it and reach her trailer. I knock on the door and as I wait for a response I look at my wrist and watch the 7 flick into 7:01. I made it, it was the end of the minute but I made it.

The sound of the door unlocking pulls me out of my thought and I smile as I see Sadie. "Hello beautiful." I say taking a step back and looking her up and down. She turns her head away as she smiles and lightly hits my arm telling me to stop. I smile and hand her the roses. Her eyes widening as she accepts it. "For me?" She asks as she looks at me, her mouth slightly agape. "Yeah, I thought it'd be nice, y'know it being Valentines day and all." I say grinning as I quote her words from before. She smiles, rolling her eyes at me as she grabs my hand and pulls me towards a car nearby. We both take a seat in the back and the driver begins making his way to whatever restaurant we're going to. I pull my phone out from my pocket and still no response from Millie. Weird

We pull into the underground parking lot of a tall building in the city and I get out of the car offering my hand to help Sadie out before she guides me to me to an elevator. I watch as she taps the second highest floor, my eyes slightly widen and I know she takes notice of this because I can see the small smirk playing on her lips. Once we arrive at the top and the elevator doors open Sadie reaches for my hand pulls me with her towards a desk with a receptionist behind it. She smile brightly greeting us and I look around. It's packed, there's no way Sadie had gotten this last minute. But then again she is a celebrity, she could've used her status, but I know she's not like that. Maybe someone cancelled last minute, couples break up all the time, someone must've booked and then broken up with their partner and cancelled their booking which made an opening.

"Booking for 2 under the name Sadie Sink" She says to the receptionist making me look at her. "Yup, got you. Perfect timing, 7:30 on the dot. Right this way." She says guiding us towards a secluded table in the corner of the restaurant which gives us quite a bit of privacy. I pull out Sadie's seat and she thanks me before sitting down. I take a seat opposite her and look out the massive window beside us. Their was a beautiful sunset to the right of us. "How did you manage to get this so last minute?" I ask as I turn my eyes to her. She shift around in her chair before speaking up. "I uh, I don't know. Luck I guess?" She says as I nod. "Must be the luckiest girl." I say as I look back out to the view. "Yeah." She whispers just loud enough for me to just hear it. I turn back to her, she's staring at her hands which are on the table. She looks upset. I furrow my eyebrows and lean over the table placing my hand over hers which makes her look up at me. "Hey, are you okay?" I ask, concern laced in my voice since I'm genuinely concerned. "You know you can talk to me about anything, right?" I say making sure she knows that I am here for her. She forces a smile and gives me a nod. "Yeah, I know, thank you." She says making my eyes narrow as I pull my hand back and look at the skyline. I feel a soft smaller hand on mine and I look at her. "I mean it. Thank you." She repeats as she smiles, genuinely this time. I nod and pick up the menu a waiter had just placed in front of us.

"So I said no and just walked away." "No you didn't!" Sadie says laughing. "I literally did, because like what did he think he was gonna do, expel me? He doesn't even have the authority to do that." I say as she continues laughing. "And nothing happened?" She asks as she attempts to stop her laughter but failing miserably. "No, well. The principle came after me but I literally just lied to her because what's she gonna do, ask for proof?" I say making her laugh even louder. "How do you get away with so much?" She asks as she tries to poke bean on her plate with her fork but misses because of how much she was shaking with laughter. I smile before I feel a vibration in my pocket. I excuse myself to go to the bathroom. I pull my phone out and notice the Caller ID. "Hey Millie, took you long enough to respond. Anyways, did you want to come to my trailer to watch some movies with me later tonight?" I ask not allowing her to say anything. "What? Yeah, sure. But what are you saying I had a half-day I literally just got off set." She says making me pull my phone from my ear to read the time. 8:12pm.

"Oh, what the hell. Sadie said you guys finished early?" I say confused as to why she finished later. "What? It was only her who finished early, said she had an appointment at like 7:30, said she couldn't cancel." She says as her words slow down and she pauses before gasping. "Wait, is she with you?" She asks "Yeah." "Oh my God, are you guys doing something for Valentines day? WOW, just leave work." She says faking annoyance. "Hey, my character is not needed today, I was off work." I reply back but she ignores my comment and backtracks to earlier in the conversation. "What are you guys doing?" She asks and I respond by sending her my location and she gasps, loudly this time. "No you're not!" She says not believing me. "What, what is it?" I ask curious to know why she reacted like that.

"You can't get a booking there for months and you'd still get a bad spot, and especially Valentines day, thats fully booked for the next like 3 years and there's only a few spots left for 4 years from now. It's literally one of the most expensive and luxurious restaurants here." She says making me raise my eyebrows. "Are you serious? She was telling me she got it last minute." I say and Millie laughs. "Noo, she's lying to you hon. She must've bought it from someone else." She says making me think back to when we entered. "It was under her name though." I say confused. "She must've booked that years ago then." She says and I stand there silently before remembering Sadie's waiting for me. "Oh shit! I gotta go, bye Millie I'll see you in an hour or so." I say waiting for her response. "Bye Y/N." She says before I end the call look at the mirror and fix my look.

I walk out and notice our table is empty and I look around notice Sadie leaning on a wall by the elevator waiting patiently, she glances at her wrist before looking up and noticing me. Her face lights up as she meets me halfway. "I thought you ditched me for a second." She says jokingly but by the way her eyes lit up earlier I knew she was lying. "Yeah, sorry Millie called me." I say and she nods before tapping the elevator button. "What are we doing now?" I ask as we walk into the elevator. I watch as she taps the button for the highest floor this time. She smiles at me and looks back at the door and when it opens I realise we're on the roof. She smiles and pulls me towards the edge and we look at the view. "I saw how you were eyeing the view so I requested if we could go to the roof they said yes." She says making me smile before I speak up.

"Maybe I should have my date here." I say as I turn to Sadie and her smile falters. "Date?" She questions. "Yeah, me and my movies." I say and she lets out a breath. I look out to the city and it makes Millies words ring through my head. "You didn't finish early did you?" I ask making her furrow her eyebrows. "What?" She asks. "Today, you didn't finish early, you told the Matt and Ross that you had an appointment." I say and she winces. "Millie?" She asks and I nod. "Yeah, I booked this earlier." She says and Millies words repeat once more. "A few years ago?" I ask and she avoids eye contact nodding once more. "Yeah." She says defeatedly and I nod at her response, taking in her words. "So why'd you take me?" I ask and at first she doesn't reply, she just continues to look to the city glowing around us. The moon shines on us and after a few seconds she looks at me, her eyes glistening. "Why do you think?" She asks, her voice was soft, almost fragile, as if she would break any second.

"Are you serious?" I ask and she scoffs and turns around. "Wait! Sadie." I say grabbing her arm and turning her towards me. "You actually, like me? Like, like like me?" I ask and she rolls her eyes. "Yes Y/N, I like you. Why is that so hard to believe?" She says pulling her arm out mine but doesn't make a move to leave. She sniffs and thats when I take notice of the tears that streamed down her face. "Sadie" "Don't, please." She pleads as she takes a step back. "I like you Sadie." I say and slowly take a step towards her. Sadie looks at the ground as she responds. "But not like that." She says assuming my words as she tries to wipe the tears away. "No, I, I like you like that." I say and for the first time since she confessed she looks me in my eyes. "This better not be some sick joke." She says and I notice the redness in her eyes. "I'm not, I swear. Why is that so hard to believe that I like you?" I say copying her words from earlier and she looks everywhere but me. "Sadie. Please, look at me." I say as I put one of my hands on her face wiping the tear streaming down her face. She turns her face towards me. "God, you're too pretty to cry." I say as my other hand rises to hold her. Her face now sitting in my fingers. My eyes flicker down to her lips and I slowly move closer, mine hovering over hers. "Can I kiss you?" I whisper and she nods.

A/N: I LITERALLY DIDNT KNOW HOW TO END IT GUYS 😭💀 It’s ass, but like yeah. That took hours.

#max mayfield x reader #max mayfield #sadie sink x reader #max mayfield imagine #maxine mayfield #stranger things #stranger things 4 #sadie sink #robin buckley x reader #billy hargove x reader #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x reader #001 x reader #001 stranger things #eleven x reader #nancy wheeler x reader #peter ballard x reader #sadie sink imagine #max mayfield x you

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edb954 · 2 years ago

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Imagine you being Will’s and Jonathan’s Sister:

and Vecna/Henry/001 takes a liking towards you..:

SOMEBODY PLEASE WRITE THIS!

Also your Jonathan’s twin!

#henry creel x reader #stranger things #001 #001 x reader #henry creel #peter ballard #peter ballard x reader #stranger things season 4 #yandere peter ballard #001 smut #yandere #possessive #jonathan byers #will byers #dark romance #Byers reader #story ideas #imagine ideas #write this please

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oreosmama · 1 year ago

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In the Black Widow’s Nest (Henry Creel x Reader) 🕷️Chapter 2🕷️

*GIF not mine*

Summary:

Prince Henry of the Creel Dynasty is finally in search of a wife, and in the spirit of courtship, King Victor has invited young royalty from all neighboring kingdoms to vie for his hand. But with so much royalty introduces the need for many more maids in the castle than usual.

Enter: You.

You’re nothing but a servant in his home, an intruder in his prized library, and an utter nuisance in his mind. But then you survive his attack, and in an unexpected way nonetheless. That makes you… interesting.

You’ve caught his eye—congratulations! Now, you must deal with the consequences of loving a heartless prince in a world where far worse things lurk in the castle than dirty garderobes.

Chapter 1

A/N: yay, another chapter! and not a million bajillion months later, either, aren’t u guys lucky? I worked hard on this one! Let me know what you think, and I hope you enjoy!

Word count: 4809

The maids of the castle did not have an organized way of awakening. The first one to rise from her cot never rang a bell, nor did she make a sound as she bumbled about the room. The others simply roused at her activity and moved to follow her lead. A soft ray of warmth would peek through window curtains, illuminating the rumpled sheets and the scuffling shoes as the ladies donned their uniforms: white pinafores over black smocks, black sleeves down to the wrists with white cuffs, white bows, black slippers.

A light chatter had begun after one maid, a new recruit hired for the season, had asked another for assistance in tying the pinafore’s bow at her back. By the time the bow was finished, the rest of the room had followed suit. Conversations erupted, and some of the more experienced women had taken to helping the newcomers with their garments. When one began to brush her own hair, so did another. When one adjusted the strap on her own shoe, so did another.

They moved as one body and looked as one body, as was expected of them. None dared to lose their opportunity to work with the castle's wages and living, especially during such a season.

The prince of the Creel Dynasty was finally searching for a wife.

The kingdom had long awaited this announcement from the handsome young heir. In preparation for the many balls, galas, and other festivities promised by this news, the castle staff had welcomed a myriad of new members, all of whom had to be trained before the kingdom could host any visiting royalty.

The maids, therefore, had the strictest schedules and regimens. The nature of their duties made it most plausible to come in contact with a royal, and such required a level of propriety unobserved by them in their previous homes.

But a new fear had struck the collective consciousness of the trainees.

One that made the threat of interacting with royals all the more potent.

You rose from your cot at the tap of the girl beside you. A fierce spasming fired along your spine, where your new wounds must have reopened from the movement.

Briefly, you considered lying back down, letting your headache swallow you whole. Considered Miss Miriam, in a devilish state, screaming at you, dismissing you, dragging you out of the castle. Crawling back home with no money, nothing to show for your promises of dragging them out of the village and whisking them away to a life of less hell. You consider coming out of the castle like you came in. Still nothing. Having nothing.

But a pretty sight struck you—Miss Miriam, with her crop, coming up behind you, and you, twisting and grabbing her by her gray hair, shoving her face into a used chamber pot.

Then swatting the old harpy with her own weapon.

A smile split your face, causing the bruise on your cheek to throb.

One day.

But until that day, you were stuck here under the shameless eyes of your own fellow maids. The show Miss Miriam had put on for the others was one that must be burned into the backs of their eyelids, because the maids did one of two things.

They watched you, or they blinked.

You folded in on yourself, turning away and grasping your uniform tucked neatly beneath your bed. When you rose back up and reached for the hem of your nightdress, you hesitated.

The gazes were so heavy you could drown. Even now, you could feel the oozing blood sticking to the thick fabric. However prominent the bruise on your face was nothing compared to artwork that mangled your back; something was peeling, another splitting, and much was bleeding. It was all one collective wound, one scab healing so slowly that any movement you made renewed the process.

You did everything quickly and quietly. You tore off your dress, peeling off fresh skin with it, and stretched the other one over your head, thankful the black smock wouldn’t stain so evidently. The gasps didn’t slow you down. You tugged on your shoes and straightened your sleeves. You whisked your hair out of your face as you worked, tightening and adjusting and grimacing your way through it.

Tears burned at the corners of your eyes, but you didn’t let them fall. You were surprised you had any left after last night—your own tongue sat as dry as a rock in your mouth. How could there be more?

But they sprang forth when you pulled the pinafore over your sleeves and realized you couldn’t tie the bow yourself. Not as tightly as it should be. Your own body wouldn’t let you do such a thing to your wound.

You needed help. Would any of them be willing to even speak to you? To be seen associating with the first pariah of the group?

You couldn’t imagine yourself doing it. Self-preservation was at an all-time high after your public whipping. Would anyone even believe that you hadn’t wanted any of this? That you hadn’t been a crown-hunting girl begging for trouble? That something bordering on preternatural had invaded your mind and drowned out your senses, and all you could do was cling onto another human as you grappled for reality—who gave a damn if the man just happened to be Prince Henry, the one person women in all the known kingdoms were trying to obtain?

No.

No one would believe you.

Dear God, you sounded deranged. One step away from fleeing into the woods waving sticks and crying demon at every creature you crossed.

The church bells, of all things, being the sounds you’d heard when your own life was slipping away before your eyes. You may as well hang yourself right now, if the king couldn’t decree it any faster.

You dropped the two fabric strings of the pinafore with a muffled snivel, cupping your bruised cheek and letting your eyes fall closed.

Three months. Just three months to shed the new label and secure yourself a permanent position in the castle. Real servants’ lodgings, proper pay, daily meals. You could live the rest of your life not acknowledged by another soul if you could just stay here, safe and content and unheeded.

What more could a person want out of life?

A gentle touch at your shoulder blade drew your attention, and you flinched away before it got any closer to your injuries. You spun around and bumped into your cot, eyeing the other maid warily. Her gaze was kind and bordered on innocent, vibrant blue barely peeking out from behind a wall of curly brown hair. She looked about your age, and at first glance, you would never notice the proud, acute way she held herself.

Like she always knew what she was doing, and yet always knew too much.

And when she offered her hands like a sign of peace, you did not try to back away again. Far be it from you to reject the first kindness you had experienced since you had arrived here.

“I can tie your bow, if you like?”

That same accent, unrefined when compared to what usually bounced off the gilded walls, and you surmise that she must have come from another small village like yours. Unlike you, however, she seemed to have less fear when navigating through unfamiliarities like castles and cruel maids.

Why else would she bother offering the one persona non grata a helping hand?

You pause at her offer, gnawing on your lip as though you had other options to consider. Perhaps there was some ill intent to her aid, but even if there was, you couldn’t figure out what and why and why bother.

“Yes…” you swallowed. “Please.”

She smiled gently and gestured for you to turn around. When her hands tied the bow, it was all light fingers and quiet conversations.

Her name was Nancy, and you learned she had come from the village next to yours. When she couldn’t get a job working for a seamstress, she wound up as something of a governess in the kingdom’s walls, traversing back and forth between her home and those of higher standings nearer to the castle. She was good at watching children, but the castle was offering far more than royalty’s butlers and vicars could afford.

And she was also very sorry for you. What happened yesterday was hard to watch.

You asked her to tighten the bow, dismissing her small hum of concern, and swallowed the bile that rose when the pinafore dug securely into the gashes of your back.

You both knew she had been fixing to leave it loose, letting you decide if the risk of an untidy uniform was worth the comfort.

It wasn’t.

The other maids, it seemed, had grown uninterested the second your wounds were covered for what would be the remainder of the day, and returned to normal conversation. Few glances were thrown your way since Nancy had tied your bow, and you noticed yet another phenomenon.

Caught up in a sea of black and white, the only difference between you and Nancy, between any one maid and another, was her hair. Brunette and blond hair intermixed with black and ginger, all blended seamlessly when plaited or swept up into a bun.

Yours hung loose and knotted down your back, and without a word, Nancy began to wisp the tendrils into a braid. You wanted to stop her, but you couldn’t. Your own arms could barely raise as high as your heart, and your hands shook the second they entered your vision, lifted to stop Nancy’s at your nape.

“There,” she murmured, dismissing your thanks, “now you really blend in. By tonight, the others won’t even remember which bed you’re in.”

“Should I be concerned they know that now?”

She laughed softly. “I suppose not, although I have overheard a few girls bitter about you being with a royal.”

You blanched. “What? That’s what they’re focused on?”

Maybe… maybe you should have guessed some of them might focus on that fact. But look where it got you, and you hadn’t even been trying.

Properly flogged, and now in the sights of one Miss Miriam.

Nancy shrugs. “Just a few. Most have been scared for you. But,” she pauses, pursing her lips, “you must understand that we’re… thankful, in a cruel way.”

Of course. You could understand that.

It terrified you, angered you to no end, but you understood it. Someone had to be a lesson for the others. A demonstration. The new maids needed a spectacle to understand where the power lied—that power did not lie solely within royalty. There were pockets of it left scattered throughout the castle, and cruel-enough servants snatched it up whenever possible, and lorded it over whoever would listen.

But… you wanted to cry at the unfairness of it all. You never thought it would be you.

The collective consciousness reigned over the servants once more, and they began to line up. You spotted a girl, younger-looking than most, step away from the door, and guessed she must have heard footsteps. Nancy nodded at you before joining a line, and you followed.

Like clockwork, the door slammed open, and Miss Miriam entered with a silencing swoosh of her black smock. When her second-in-command entered, goosebumps ran down your spine.

You could still feel yourself struggling in her arms, sobs wracking their way through you as she steadied your form for another lashing. Your heartbeat began thundering in your back, right underneath the bow of the pinafore.

“Ladies, today is a day of utmost importance.” With small, black eyes narrowed and surveying each and every young girl before her, Miss Miriam furrowed her brow and frowned, wrinkles tracing the expressions with ease. Her face pinched together so tightly it resembled a sun-dried grape. “The royal family will be welcoming four promising princesses today, and it will be your duty to clean every inch of the castle they will roam upon before they arrive. Am I understood?”

“Yes, Miss Miriam.”

“We will work as one. We will bow as one. We do everything as one, today and all days, ladies. Efficiently, and quietly.” Her eyes fell on you. “No one will cause trouble today. Understood?”

You gulped. The maids chimed together once more, and you could only mouth along with them.

“Yes, Miss Miriam.”

Her gaze left yours, and the tightening of your throat eased.

“Moira will delegate assignments. Those tidying halls will follow me.”

The hallways, all gilded columns and glistening marble, flared victoriously in the morning sun. Most aspects of the castle seemed to emphasize the Creel Monarchy’s pride, their devout sense of self-satisfaction the principal aspect of every painting, vase, and snuffed sconce.

A portrait of the long deceased King James, great-great-great-great grandfather to Prince Henry—though, you pondered calling the number of greats preceding his name into question (and the word great itself)—sneered down at you, seeming perpetually pleased to be two hundred years in the ground and still lording himself over every subject that roamed his halls.

Disdain for all others must have been passed down the family line religiously.

You dragged your eyes down and away, busying yourself instead with dusting the marbleized snoot of Julius Caesar. The crystalline windows of the castle acted like a magnifying glass against you as you worked, adding a heat to the already aching skin of your back. You were a cockroach wandering too close to a flame, and any second now you could burn up from the inside out, crushed with a crunch rather than a squelch.

Using the back of your hand, you wiped the sweat from your brow, eyes wandering dangerously to the maid who worked beside you.

Nancy, owning the more bearable appearance between the two of you, had been sent out to deliver and replace new bed sheets along with thirty other girls. But the girl beside you, taller and owning a mess of dirty blonde hair swept into an apathetic bun, had somewhat of the same spirit of Nancy. A small glimmer of rebellion shone in her eyes each time Miss Miriam wandered far enough down the glittering hallway so as to only be seen by squinting.

Then, with a wry twitch of her freckled face, she’d rasp five blasphemies she’d decided described the witch in that moment.

Musty shrew appeared to be a favorite.

The girl glanced up from where she had been polishing a rickety wooden chair and flashed you a smile, glancing each way before rising from her knees and approaching. She reached out and plopped the brush she had been using on the table holding the marble statue head, and plugged a finger into each of its ears.

“I don’t suppose Jesus here will strike me down for my profanity, will he?”

You looked down. Chiseled above its wrinkled forehead was a laurel crown, and you couldn’t recall a Bible passage describing Jesus’ sabbatical in Rome. You blinked at her.

“I’m pretty sure that’s Julius Caesar.”

The blonde glances at the statue again, gray eyes darting over it before she shrugs. “Same difference. If there is a sculpture of Jesus somewhere in this castle, I have no doubt he’s going to receive the same mouthful of feathers you’re forcing on poor Caesar here.”

“Only if Miss Miriam deems it so.” You nodded your head in the skeletal maid’s direction. “Her words are as good as gospel, after all.”

“And yet, each time she speaks, I feel like I’m taking orders from Satan.”

You let out a ghost of a laugh, biting your tongue when your wounds contract and throb.

Her face splits into a smile, and she lets out a short laugh too. Something flits along her face, though, and you get the sense you didn’t hide your pain well enough. The subject is easily danced around; the maid releases her grip on the statue and instead grasps her skirt, lowering into a teasing curtsy. “The name is Robin, milady.” Her eyelashes flutter rapidly and she waggles her fingers in the air, perfectly, in your opinion, mimicking the interactions between royalty that you’ve seen thus far. Haughty, majestic, and filled with intentions barely skin-deep.

You do the same.

She lets your name roll off her tongue a few times, letting it thud against the crisp white walls in her hoarse tone before saying decidedly, “Very fitting.”

Before long, Miss Miriam decides the hallway is clean enough and herds all the maids, the vast majority of them being newcomers like you, out and away into the next wing.

A chill wracks through you when the word “residential” gets passed down the line of one hundred girls, followed by “prince” and “bedroom” and “handsome.” You scan the white, stone columns as you pass, watching them curve into elegant archways shadowed through the frosted windows. This wing is covered in significantly less dust, and a faint scent of roses and pines floats in the air.

You try to flood out the memories, thinking vigorously about the red carpet before you, the soft slap of two hundred clogs, small shuffles and whispers. Everything around you you swallow up whole, eyes wide as though it will help you take in everything and think about nothing. But you cannot avoid it for long; not when you pass by the entrance to the royal throne room, in all its scintillating enormity, golden thrones set with silk, inlaid with gemstones, all wide open spaces.

And hovering above all four was a single, large oil portrait of the living Creel sovereigns.

King Victor, with his light blue eyes caving underneath the lustrous crown, crisp white beard neatly trimmed. His hand hovered over his wife’s shoulder, smile thin and pale.

Queen Virginia, known for her devout faith and kindness, her amber hair falling in ringlets down to her sides. She sat prim and proper on a ruby-cushioned chair, hands folded prettily, eyes dim.

Princess Alice, the spitting image of her mother, bar her father’s eyes and the last twenty years. Second only to her brother in terms of popularity in the kingdom and out, something distinctly complacent set her brows in such a way you knew instantly why she was desirable to royals and dodged by anyone below them.

And then him.

A part of you hadn’t believed Miss Miriam when she’d called him so.

Your Highness.

But as you looked at him now, standing taller than the rest of his blood, proud and ramrod straight, broad shoulders held back by an invisible force, you knew the portraitist had gotten something wrong.

The hair was right; the golden crown of tousled waves, parted neatly and befitting him far more than any scrap of the earth. The lips, pink and pronounced, and the softness of his brow, and, of course, his posture. All perfect.

But it wasn’t Prince Henry. Not quite.

The eyes. Slate blue and cold, cold, cold. How could the artist have not seen that?

Instead, they were warm and too dark a blue. Almost navy, and gentle, and so soft he almost looked like he was frozen in a smile.

No, no. That wasn’t the Prince Henry you had seen.

Where was the darkness? The cruelty? The evil that shadowed every inch of him?

This was some sterilized version of the crown prince, some unattainable, unreliable, utterly purified visage of him being displayed to the kingdoms in pastime.

He radiated divinity, in and out of the portrait. But without that quality of his that effused danger so potently, you could not help but feel the kingdoms were being sold a lie.

The nervous hiss of your name and a strong grip rattling at your wrist spared you from Prince Henry’s trance once more.

Too much power, he had. Too much… something.

“I get it,” Robin whispered, eyes flitting back and forth as the herd marched on, “completely, I understand. But, you cannot just stand and stare at royalty all day. That’s kind of how you…” she gnawed at the inside of her cheek, “you know, got into your situation in the first place. I’d hate to think what Miss Mule would do if she caught you with a Creel of all people.”

You hesitate to tell her that it was, in fact, a Creel that had gotten you in this position. But if Miss Miriam had decided to hide that information from others, you could only guess there was some merit to hiding that you’d thrown your arms around a prince that was already in high demand.

You had wound up committing one of the worst possible treasons with the worst possible man. You supposed it was quite like learning to swim a day prior and diving into a deep lake the very next day—you’d hit rock-bottom, and you’d only just begun.

To think you shouldn’t already be swinging by your neck right now, face blue and tongue swollen, had the head maid hoarded some minute amount of mercy for you.

That, or she’d known your actions had no great impact upon the integrity of the prince’s pursuits—whether it be accidental or otherwise, Miss Miriam viewed yesterday’s nightmare as a tragic attempt to escape your fate, some sick wishing turned to action wherein you wooed the prince and thus he would marry you.

Of all people. You.

You could retch at the thought.

You’d been raised proper, your parents teaching you well about respect, understanding who deserved it and who did not. They had also taught you that people could be born deserving respect, that it was some inherent betterness of their circumstances that, in turn, warranted curtsies and bowed heads.

Which, in your humble opinion, seemed utter tosh, but so be it. For now, you had a head on your shoulders, feasted somewhat regularly, and slept in warmth. Your clothing had not been sewn by your own hands, and your family was receiving enough coins to not worry about your wellbeing.

No matter that they probably should.

Far be it from you to look gift horses in their mouths, but you felt yourself afforded a nice level of circumspection after your back had been torn to ribbons for a mishap over which you had no control.

You didn’t want to marry the prince. You didn’t want to touch him, and you didn’t want to think about him. And, ignoring all the memories of his larger hands, his blue gaze, his golden strands, and how he may haunt you for years to come, you were quite certain you never wanted to see Prince Henry ever again.

Your back twinged in agreement.

The multitude of fluttering pinafores ahead of you slowed their swishing. Clomping clogs eased into a gentle tapping and finally stopped, and the movements were imparted upon the rest of the maids. A smaller form bumped into your back, and you flinched away, spinning and biting back a cry.

A maid a few years younger than you gaped her mouth, innocence and fear mingling in her expression as brown curls fell over her brow. She seemed so much smaller than the others, more unwitting. Your eyes fell to her hand, a clenched fist in the creases of your skirt, as it hesitatingly fell away.

More distanced shuffling disseminated down the corridor, and you watched the assorted heads of hair in front of you split and separate, clinging to either wall, leaving a wide breadth of distance for someone to pass through. Sunlight filtered between the silent shadows of maids and formed a golden glow of a path.

You followed the others and split off to one side, opposite a window, and grasped blindly for Robin’s hand when she didn’t move to follow. A gentle tug at the fabric of your backside conveyed that the other, younger maid had restored her grip.

From your position, the sun blinded you heavily, and you squinted as a yellow shine overtook everything you saw. White spots splattered your vision when you blinked, but you looked past the maids anyway, curiosity jostling its way down the two lines.

“Your Highness.”

So far ahead, you couldn’t see and only heard Miss Miriam and her staunch and clear-cut announcement. That same loyal tone, somewhat saccharine, frayed your nerves in a second.

The prince?

Curtsies flowed like a wave through the maids, and when you bent low, head bowed, Robin and the young maid followed on either side of you, just as gawky. Nobody rose, and, per Miss Miriam’s orders, nobody would rise until the royalty had passed.

But… dear God, wasn’t it an awful affair that you could tell who it was without even looking? That you could feel a quiet sizzle over the rows of women and girls alike, heard the soft, prideful gait of his finely polished boots.

Back in your village, you’d hated how slowly people could walk. How they’d force you to flounder behind them as they puttered, how they could wander one way and then the other, each footstep a guess. Like they had all the time in the world.

You never would have guessed that a fast pace could be just as troubling. Like he couldn’t stand to be in the same corridor with so many servants, Prince Henry was a brisk wind over the ruby carpets. Even so, you could feel the rise and fall of elation, soft gasps partnered with perfectly timed peeks.

He was a sight to behold—that much had been imprinted on your mind. But he couldn’t possibly be as rumpled as he’d been in the depths of the frosty library, hair thoroughly rakish, white tunic clinging to his golden skin. No; royals held a certain standard of propriety, even as they indulged in the most hedonistic of lifestyles. He must be sheathed in some proper velvet tailcoat, and his face must be severe and sharp, slicing along everything he saw.

Breathtaking in an entirely different way, you were sure.

No, you didn’t look. You couldn’t. You can’t.

Not even as his footsteps approach.

You focus your gaze on your swinging braids, watching them refuse to settle against some unknown breeze. A strain forms in your knuckles with how hard you grip your skirt, and your spine throbs with each heartbeat against the tightened back of your uniform.

Prince Henry slows.

The atmosphere tightens around your little grouping of maids, sun soaking into your black clothing so heavily you can barely breathe.

We must be in front of a door, some corner he needs to turn to. Something.

Some disturbed pulsing blossoms in your gut when he stops just before you, black boots just inches away. Lithe fingers laden with metal rings hover in your vision.

Prince Henry’s too close all over again.

You want to cry out; you want to say nothing and everything. You want to sink into the furthest recesses of your home miles away just as much as you want to stand at the top of a hill and hold your arms out, waiting for it all.

Your heart is racing—wild, damned little thing. An insufferable hypocrite after all the ways it had condemned him yesterday for what had happened.

Fingertips, gentle and soft as a single breath, rise and brush over your flaming cheekbone.

A tingle of pain jolts through the bruise so suddenly you flinch away, followed by an indifferent grunt that hangs in the air.

No pity in the sound. No remorse. Barely a hint of acknowledgment.

You want to cradle your cheek and press, hard, at the bridge of your nose, will those wobbling tears to stop. His hand hovers again, twitches near, and, when you lean some scant distance away, falls back to his side.

Within that same second, the boots that hadn’t even turned toward you stalk away. Still fast and proud, no more slows and stops. No more grunts.

But, without a doubt, it was Prince Henry. You’d peeked as the other maids had peeked.

You’d done all that they had done, yet you knew that single touch had doomed you.

That must have been his game. A nice bit of teasing for the maid who'd embraced him; let her be thoroughly beaten down to her station. It was some cruel recognition of what happened to you, some silent sanctioning of a proper punishment.

Servant does a bad thing; servant gets punished by her peer.

Royal approves. No blood on his hands.

You were right, of course. That portrait was missing Prince Henry’s most vital characteristic: Wickedness.

When the maids rise from their curtsies, trembling thighs and huffed breaths, all eyes fall on you. A range of emotions bombard you before you can rub your cheek.

Wonder.

Awe.

Envy.

And—you can only assume from the thundering footsteps—Miss Miriam’s unparalleled rage.

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