#Peter ballard fic

[britany1997]

Nightmares and Day-dreams

Peter Ballard x GN Reader

Note: I hope y’all enjoy this! This’ll be my last fic till May. I thought it would be fun to dip into some horror and angst for this one. (The next one will be fluffy I promise haha)

Comment to be added to my Peter/Henry Taglist

Warnings: Horror, dark themes, blood and gore, dead bodies, manipulating (reader’s innocent and a little lonely and this gets taken advantage of), psychic abilities, a tiny bit of mind control, unhappy ending

A soft knock on the door of your clinic woke you from your light slumber. You jolted, combing your fingers through your hair and wiping the drool from the corner of your mouth.

You smiled as you walked to the door. Only one person ever knocked, the same person who’d occupied your dreams a today and every night for weeks.

Since you’d started working at Hawkins lab, you hadn’t been able to get him out of your head. Sure he was attractive and all, his blue eyes alone would have anyone falling all over him. But there was something about him, something more than just his good looks.

Peter was so…sweet. He was patient with the kids, he was attentive and considerate of you and all his coworkers, God you’d rarely ever seen him without a smile on his face.

He was a genuinely good guy, sort of a rarity for you these days.

So when your day time fantasies had followed you to bed, you hadn’t been all that surprised. Peter was…the perfect man.

When he knocked again, you snapped back to reality. You realized you’d been thinking about his soft smile for much too long, once again.

You yanked the door open, only to be met with the sight of the sheepish, blond man, holding his hand against his chest and staining his all white clothes a deep red.

“Peter!” You gasped, your hands flying to cover your mouth as blood dripped down his wrist. Without Peter’s accident prone nature, you were certain you’d be out of a job.

“Hi,” he grimaced, wincing just a bit in pain.

“Oh my God Peter please get in here,” you grabbed his uninjured arm and pulled him inside.

He stumbled in behind you, more boy than man, blushing profusely.

You pulled out a chair, “sit,” you ordered before rushing to grab bandages and antiseptics.

Once you’d gathered supplies you knelt in between his legs. “Show me,” you ordered.

Reluctantly, he pulled his arm away from his chest to reveal the massive gash. It was worse than you could have imagined.

“How’d you even do this!?” You half asked and half scolded.

He cringed, “oh you know…” he trailed off but you hadn’t really been listening, too invested in stitching him up.

You sighed as you finished. “You can’t keep doing this,” you told him.

He gazed into your eyes, that sweet smile you loved so much brightening his whole face. “But then I wouldn’t get to enjoy the pleasure of your company.”

You blushed, trying to hide it as you stood to put away all of your first aid supplies.

“Don’t you have work to get back to?” you asked, flustered out of your mind.

He chuckled, “yeah I’d better get going.”

As he slipped out the door, you wondered how you managed to get anything done with him around.

You propped your head up on one hand, fighting sleep and losing as you glanced at the clock to read 10:42am. You sighed.

You couldn’t figure out what had you so tired these days. You’d been getting a full eight hours! And damn, you figured with your dreams filled with the face of your favorite blond man you would have slept a lot better.

You rubbed circles into your temples. You felt a wave of the same ‘head in a trash compactor’ feeling you did when you got no sleep at all. What was wrong with you?

Suddenly, you were roused from your thoughts by a familiar knock on your door.

Your pained face morphed into a bright smile. Peter.

When you opened the door he was standing before you, all white uniform, mug in hand.

“Good morning,” he smiled.

You returned his grin, even though your morning had been anything but good, it was much better now.

“No more injuries I hope?” You teased.

He laughed. “Not yet, but it’s still early I suppose.” He opened two creamers and poured them into the mug, stirring absentmindedly.

“Arm heeled up pretty nicely,” you noticed, coming around to touch the small mark where the giant gash had once been.

“Oh yeah,” he flexed a bit, “just needed a couple weeks and some TLC from my favorite nurse”

You giggled at his flirting, wondering what his curls would feel like if you ran your fingers through his hair.

He handed you the mug, “brought this for you.”

You gasped just a bit before taking a sip of the steaming liquid.

“Thank you so much,” you were touched.

“Don’t mention it,” he winked as he slipped out the door.

You smiled to yourself, he was so thoughtful, so considerate. You figured he must have been paying attention to you to notice you’d been so lethargic.

But…then again you hadn’t seen him this morning, not until now.

You shrugged, maybe he brought everyone coffee.

You pushed the thought out of your head, if that was the case, you didn’t want to know. You’d rather believe he thought you were special.

You took another long sip.

You startled awake at the feeling of someone nudging your arm softly. As you scrambled to collect your thoughts, still half asleep, you were met with Peter’s concerned face.

“Are you alright,” he asked.

“Yeah! Yes, I’m fine,” you babbled, blushing profusely.

“I knocked four times, I thought it would be ok to come in…” he trailed off, then frowned. “You’re really ok?”

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “Yeah um, I haven’t been sleeping well.” You told him.

But you had been sleeping well. For the past few days you’d been sleeping for ten hours instead of eight. Yet it seemed to be doing absolutely nothing, you were still exhausted. Past the point of struggling to stay awake, you were fully napping at work now.

“Oh that’s awful,” you could feel Peter’s concern, his gaze trained on your drooping eyes. “That’s how they torture people you know…lack of sleep.”

“Really?” you yawned, not processing a single word he said.

“You should get some rest,” he told you.

“What? No! I can’t sleep here,” you protested, “didn’t you need something? You must have come here for something.”

“Just a band aid,” he tugged your hand until you were standing, leading you towards the cot in your tiny clinic. “I can get it on the way out, why don’t you lie down?”

The more you mulled it over, the more that measly cot began to look like a king bed at the Ritz Carlton.

“Well…maybe I could for a little…”

He nodded, “you’re of no use to anyone if you’re tired,” he rationalized, “besides, you deserve it.”

“I deserve it,” you repeated as you climbed onto the cot.

“That’s right,” he smiled as he crept towards the door, flicking off the light switch on his way out.

You barely even noticed him leave as you drifted off.

You awoke abruptly to the sound of an alarm blaring. You stumbled off the cot. Of course something happened during the few seconds, you checked your watch, hours you’d been asleep.

You grabbed your first aid kit and rushed into the hallway, but the sight you were met with chilled you to your core.

Your hands covered your mouth as you slumped against the wall in shock. Corridors you’d walked down every day were now stained with blood. Children you’d tended to when they were sick, held when they were crying, now littered the linoleum floor.

Fear coursed through you. You slid down the wall until you were crouched in a ball, defeated, all but waiting for whatever monster had pillaged the lab to take you too. You couldn’t help but think of Peter, wondering if your perfect boy had escaped, if he was ok.

As tears began to prick your eyes, Peter crept around the corner, covered in blood yet, more serene than you’d ever seen him.

Your heart leapt in your chest. Peter had evaded the murderer, maybe there was hope for the two of you after all.

But as he stalked closer, any semblance of hope left within you shattered.

Peter wasn’t just calm, he was…pleased.

As he stepped over the corpses of discarded children, he smiled down at their youthful faces. He nudged them to the side with his feet.

You could feel your heart pounding out of your chest as you realized the blood splattered on his face wasn’t his own.

He knelt down in front of you, smiling softly and brushing your hair behind your ear. “Hello sweetheart,” he cooed.

You recoiled, his soft touch might as well have been a stab. Any fondness you’d had for him melted away.

“Ah ah,” he chided, gripping your chin and pulling you close. “Don’t shy away from me.”

If you moved to escape his touch, he gripped you harder. His head followed your movements like a snake, waiting to strike.

“Please,” your voice broke, “don’t kill me.” You begged, trading your pride for a chance at survival.

“Kill you?” Peter looked hurt, “no darling I would never kill you,” he moved to cup your face.

You squeaked.

He smiled, “I’d rather keep you.”

Peter was a deadly spider and he’d entangled you in his web. As much as you squirmed and struggled to escape, it was already much too late.

“K-keep me?” You felt a slimey feeling overtake you, “like…you want me to be your…partner?” The dream you’d had for so long had dissolved to a nightmare.

He chuckled as he stroked the back of his hand down your cheek.

The gesture made your skin crawl.

“Silly human, you’re adorable.” He pinched your cheek cruelly, “how do I say this you’re… beneath me.”

You hated that his words could hurt you.

“You’re more like a…hmm how should I say this,” his brow furrowed, “ah, you’re more like a pet to me, a bunny or a kitten or something.”

You felt like you’d been punched.

“Your mind, it’s so fun to play with,” his smile was sinister, “I could never let you go.”

Your face twisted in disgust, you couldn’t imagine a worse fate for yourself.

Peter sensed your discomfort. “You’ll come around,” he decided, “but for now, you’ve had a rough day and you need your rest.”

He threw you a mocking pout as he placed a hand on your forehead.

Your eyes began to flutter closed, as much as you tried you couldn’t fight whatever Peter was doing.

“Sweet dreams,” he whispered as your world faded to black.

Taglist🖤:

@6lostgirl6 @misslavenderlady @sad-ghost-of-garbage @bloodywickedvamp @lostboys1987girl @crustyboypix @gothamslostboy @arbesa-mind @dwaynesluscioushair @anna1306

[bebx]

Relationship: Henry Creel & Eleven 

Summary:

Instead of acting in a way that caused Eleven to attack and banish him to the Upside Down, Henry reacted a little differently when Eleven walked in on him in the Rainbow Room, after the massacre at Hawkins Lab.

He didn't even say he asked her to wait.

This was based on this one deleted scene where we saw Henry crouching on the floor next to a dead kid in the Rainbow Room after the massacre and basically looking like a child when Eleven appeared to be walking into the room. If you haven't seen the photos, you can tap here to see what I'm talking about.

[cuethemulti]

ik this is probably too much to ask for but can I please have a little story of Henry and Carrie White being besties ^^? I barely see any content of their connection character wise and that makes me sad -Lammy/Carrie

You are so right so let’s change that :)

Summary: AU where Carrie and Henry had known each other in their childhood but the beginning of their true friendship wouldn’t start until they meet again in unexpecting circumstances. In this story, Carrie ends up running away after the events of the prom. (As always I ended up writing more than I thought lol) Thank u the request and hope you like it <3

God’s Plan

Carrie wanted to go home.

The small girl stood outside of the church, wrinkling the fabric of her brown plaid dress between her small fingers. (Carrie was never allowed to wear anything red; it was the color of sin, her mother always told her.)

Mass was over, and Carrie listened to Mama chatting with another woman who she had just met outside the church. She was pretty with her blonde-styled hair and pearls that looked quite expensive. Although her mother was chatting politely to her now, back at home Carrie would later get a lesson about the sin of the day: vanity.

“We always attend mass at least four days of the week,” Mama was bragging to the woman. “ It's one of the few things I will miss from this town. Of course, God will follow us wherever we go.”

“Very true, Ms. White.” The woman nods with a polite grin, showing off her pearly white teeth. She reminded Carrie of one of the dolls that she wanted to get for her birthday, but her mother preferred to get her miniature angel figurines.

“My family and I attend church whenever we can as well.” The woman turns to someone hiding behind her. With her hands on his shoulders, the woman brings up a boy to join them. “This is my son, Henry. His sister must have gone somewhere with her friends. He is the shy one.”

Henry was just as neatly dressed as his mother, but not as chirpy. He says nothing, keeping his hands in front of him.

“Oh, but solitude is a good trait to have, Mrs. Creel,” Mama nods encouragingly. “Makes kids stay out of trouble so that they can spend more time learning about the Lord. Just like my daughter.”

The mother smiled a little and looked down at Henry. “Yes, that's what we are hoping for. Aren’t we?” The boy did not reply, maintaining eye contact on the ground.

The woman’s face faltered at Henry for a second before looking up at them again with her same bright expression and comments, “What a shame that you and your daughter are moving away so soon. Perhaps these two would have gotten more time to become friends.”

Carrie’s mother pursed her lips together before putting on a tight smile. Carrie knew that no matter which boy it was, Mama wanted them all to stir far away from Carrie. “I suppose so, but everything goes according to God’s plan, Mrs. Creel, and we must abide by it.” Mama holds her cross around her neck as she assures her. “If He wants something to occur, it will happen however we least expect it.”

After both mothers gave their final goodbyes. Henry leaves with his mother, never uttering a single word.

X

Carrie opens her eyes, meeting the blue sky above her. She is walking in the middle of an empty road. Carrie rubs her eyes until she feels the blood that is still smeared on her hand. She blinks rapidly, her senses coming back to her. Carrie’s feet sting from pain as her high heels step on the hard concrete. She has been walking without any sort of direction since last night, dozing off every couple of minutes, but only had one particular dream.

Carrie has no idea why she remembered the church boy now after all these years. Perhaps it is her mind wanting to escape the reality of her life, the part of Carrie wishing to be a little girl again like her mother always wanted her to be.

A tickle in her throat makes Carrie cough. Her drenched dress is making her feel colder. Shortly after Carrie sees a pile of trash bags piled on the side of the road. They must have fallen off someone’s truck. It was like, dare she say, a work of a miracle. Carrie stops to search through the bags until she finds an old blanket. She uses it to wipe the blood off her face and hair before wrapping it around her waist. She shivers as she continues to walk.

The road is still far ahead of her. Everything is quiet. The only thing Carrie can hear is her growling stomach with one demand.

Apple pie. Last time she had told Mama she didn’t want any because it flared up her pimples. But Carrie could really go for some right now.

Carrie continues walking, her eyes closing every few seconds. Her hunger and sleepiness were weighing her down, but she somehow still has the strength to keep going. She thought she would walk forever until a few minutes later, the gray clouds moved just enough for the sun's rays to peek down and brighten her path. Carrie stops in front of the familiar sign that reads “Welcome to Hawkins.”

Carrie’s heart jumps. This was far too much of a coincidence. She somehow made it back to her childhood town without even knowing, just when she had just dreamed it. Was this perhaps a literal sign from heaven?

Carrie continues walking down the road, wondering if Hawkins still looks the same as it used to before. However, she knew better than to go out into the main streets looking like this. So instead Carrie steps out of the road and goes towards a crowd of trees, leading her into the forest.

The sound of a crow croaking echoes down the path. Not being able to take the pain in her feet anymore, Carrie takes off her high heels, tossing them aside and walks barefoot on the grass. She needs to find somewhere to rest. Her legs felt like they were going to fall off.

A few feet away in the middle of the grass is a pile of firewood. Another miracle! She thinks. Carrie quickly goes over, kneeling next to it as she puts her blanket aside. The wood hasn’t been used yet. Carrie had never made a fire before. She rubs the pieces of wood together several times, but not a single spark appears. She continues getting more aggravated with every failed attempt, wishing that her powers could have included the fire element.

“Hey! What are you doing to our wood?”

Two men surround Carrie. She jumps to her feet, quickly grabbing onto the blanket to cover her bloody dress. Carrie’s heart hammers when she notices the shotgun that one of them carried.

This isn’t a miracle, it was a trap.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t know this was yours.” Carrie’s voice quivers as she steps back.

As the men got closer, they scan her up and down with disgusted looks.

“Holy shit. What slaughterhouse did you come from?” One of them snickered.

“I'm warning you.” Her voice was quiet but losing the gentleness from before. “Leave me alone.”

“Calm down, girl.” The man holds the shotgun close to his side. “All we wanna know is how you got here.”

His friend whispers next to him, “Isn’t that the crazy bitch in the newspaper? The one who set a high school on fire?

Carrie keeps backing away and looks behind her. Seeing that there is no other way of escape, she takes a deep breath as she lets the blanket drop from her hand. Carrie swore she wouldn’t do this again, but she is growing tired of these men. They were making her stomach curl and her head buzz, just like how she felt at prom.

Carrie remembers that she also swore to herself that she would never let anyone humiliate her ever again.

Her hand was about to move when suddenly, one of the men yelled as he was lifted into the air, dropping his shotgun to the ground.

“W-what the hell?!” The other man backs away as he stares up in horror. His friend was frozen in the air with his arms stuck to his sides, struggling to scream. From the trees on their left, Carrie sees a young, blonde boy approach with his hand stretched in front of him. He sternly stares at the man in the air who gasps and wheezes, like he was being choked.

Carrie’s mind is still struggling to understand what was happening. It wasn’t until the other man got behind the boy, the gun now in his hands, his hands shaking as he pointed that Carrie finally felt the pressure on her body force her to act.

“No!”

With that, the gun‘s direction is pointed up at the sky, and with a bang, the man’s friend lands on the floor with the bullet through his chest.

The boy turns towards the remaining man. Before he could react, the man is thrown against the tree. When he attempts to run away, Carrie makes his neck simply snap, making him fall on his knees before sprawling onto the grass.

Carrie breathes heavily, still feeling adrenaline of her powers burning through her body.

The boy turned to her, looking a lot calmer than she was. “I assume you must be Carrie White?”

Carrie whips out her hand again as a warning. “Who are you?”

Henry blinks. “You really don’t remember me?”

Carrie thinks her suspicion was impossible, but she whispers, “Henry?”

The boy from her church, the one who she had just dreamed about, stood there a lot taller than before, but it was his same neatly kept blonde hair and the monotonous expression shadowing his blue eyes that confirmed it.

Henry nods. “I’m sure it was my mother who made the biggest impression on you that day. She tends to do that to everyone. Yours did as well, I’m sure. ” Henry talks like they were having a normal conversation that wasn’t happening next to two dead men.

Not letting her guard down, Carrie circles around him, her hand still up. “What are you doing here? And how did you . . .” her voice trails off as she struggles to sort out her jumbled-up brain. The only coherent thought that comes across is when Carrie notices blood running down Henry’s nose.

“You’re bleeding.”

For the first time, Henry smiles a little before wiping his nose. “I think I’m not the one whose bloody appearance is concerning.”

Carrie mumbles, “It’s not my blood.”

Giving a short nod, Henry looks down at her dress. “I figured. It must have been quite a party.”

Carrie narrows her eyes at him. “I’m not in the mood for jokes,” She finally drops her arm and starts walking away from him, but Henry gets in front of her. “What do you want?” She barks.

“I heard about what happened. Our towns aren’t so far away from each other.” Henry explains, paying no mind to Carrie’s glare. “I wanted to help a friend.”

“Friends? We never even talked.”

Henry shrugs. “Whatever you want to call it. Either way, we both murdered these men, and I think that makes us something. Accomplices, at best.

“I didn't need your help.” Carrie huffs. She runs her hands through her hair, feeling the anxiety and anger still knotted in her chest. It wasn’t until she got overwhelmed that she sits under a tree. “I don’t know what’s going on,” she mutters, rubbing her head. “Everything is out of control.”

Henry stands next to her as he looks around the forest. “I would say this situation got under control a lot better than it would have.“

“No, you don’t get it,” Carrie digs her fingernails in the dirt. “I’ve done terrible things, Henry. Awful things.” The sobs that Carrie had buried are now swelling in her throat. “My mother was right. I-I’m the devil. So many people are gone, all because of my sins!” She buries her head into her hands. “All because I disobeyed-“

“Hey, stop.” Henry puts his hand on her shoulder. When she doesn’t listen, he kneels in front of her, grabbing her arms and forcing Carrie to look at him.

“Stop. Crying.” Henry’s voice is firm but gentle. “It’s not going to get us anywhere. Take a deep breath.”

Carrie closes her eyes and inhales deeply before exhaling a couple of times. After a minute, Carrie feels calm enough to acknowledge the reality of who this boy was.

“You’re like me. “

“Yes.” Henry lets go of her and sit down. “I’m guessing your powers developed as a child too.”

Carrie looks at the grass. “Not until later. It just happened one day in school and. . .” She brings her knees up to her chin, not being able to say anything more without feeling the burning shame of the day when she first got her period, humiliated in front of everyone.

“My mama said I was born from sin,” she adds quietly. “That is the reason why I am like this.”

“And do you believe that?” Henry stares at Carrie.

“I don’t know . . . I don’t know what to believe in anymore,” Carrie turns over her red hands as she looks at them. She thought she had all the answers when she first got her powers, but now Carrie is just as lost as before.

“My mother used to tell me that too.” Henry picks up a small spider that is crawling on the bark of the tree. “She was a hypocrite, calling herself a Christian, yet she kept hiding away from her own sins.” Henry settles the spider on the grass. “What a surprise it was for her,” he says with a dry smile, “for a child to destroy the lie she’s been living in.”

Carrie stares at the spider crawl away as she remembers how her mother has raised her. The way she made Carrie recite the several passages worth of prayers, hitting her every time she wanted to do something that she wanted for once, and locking her inside the closet for hours until Carrie was begging for forgiveness, and it was all done in the name of being good for God only for all of it to be destroyed in a high school dance.

Suddenly, an odd feeling starts to rise from Carrie’s chest. It was something that Carrie didn’t think she would ever do again until everything that has occurred clicked together.

Carrie bursts out laughing.

Henry actually looks startled as Carrie falls to the grass and cackles loudly, making herself be heard everywhere in the forest. The tree seems to shake from the vibration.

“What’s so funny?”

Carrie’s cheeks are bright red as she tries to catch her breath. “It’s just hilarious don’t you think?” she sputters as she gets up. “How hard our mothers tried to do everything to keep us down the “good” and “holy” yet everything still went straight to hell!” Carrie’s fist hits the tree, her strength causing a large tree branch to almost fall over them, and she wheezes more laughter.

Henry watches as Carrie gets to the center of the forest, spreading her arms out dramatically. “Of course, none of it works. People like them are the devil. That’s why none of it mattered!” Breathing deeply, Carrie’s eyes lowered to the ground. “None of it mattered,” she states, quieter. “We were damned from the beginning.”

With that, Carrie slowly goes back to where Henry is. She sits down under the tree, turning away from him as she leans her head back against the tree. Carrie’s stomach aches from the intensity of her laughter. She becomes quiet again as she regains her composure, the familiar emotional numbness settling on her once more.

“You’re looking at it wrong.” Henry finally says. “This isn’t damnation, it’s redemption.” Carrie can hear him lean forward. “We both have a gift, and if we work together, we can be our own saviors. You’ve already proven it.

Carrie slightly snorts. “I don’t think there’s anything heroic about destroying my high school prom.”

“It’s a start.” She knew Henry was smiling. “We both can learn from each other. I can even learn to teach you more about how to keep your abilities more stable.”

Henry leans away when Carrie sits up and sighs through her nose. “How do I know if I can trust you?”

Henry shrugs. “You don’t. But your options are limited, and you don’t really have anything more left to lose.”

Carrie’s eyes meet Henry’s again, and she sees a childlike determination in him that Carrie finds comforting. She barely knew Henry, yet Carrie felt closer to him than anyone she’s been with. They both were the only people in the world who understood each other. Carrie needs that the most.

Henry gets up to his feet. “But we’ll have to get you cleaned up first.” He points across the forest. “There’s a lake close by here. I can bring you some clothes and from there we can find a place to stay. “

Henry offers his hand down at her. When she still hasn't moved, Henry looks away, his face falling slightly as it seems the answer was no.

Instead, Carrie says. “Only on one condition.” Henry looks at her again, slightly raising his eyebrow.

“Can we get some apple pie afterward? I’m starving.”

Henry smiles. “Sure.”

As a new sense of hope grows for her, Carrie grins and takes Henry’s hand.

Perhaps it was all part of God’s plan after all.

[mya-cookie-eater]

Imagine…

You’re your comfort characters comfort character 

C/c=comfort character 

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

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

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

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

[madelynraemunson]

🖤BATTLE OF THE BANDS x ST CAST x MOOD BOARD🎸🤘🏼❤️‍🔥

[ransprang]

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

[petersprincesss]

Security Measures

It’s been a long time since I wrote anything… but I decided IM BACK BABY!

It felt like it was time for some good old fashioned smut. I really went back to my roots with this one. I still personally prefer to refer to this character as Peter Ballard, and that’s gonna be his name in the fic. I apologize if that’s not your thing, but you don’t have to read it 🫶🏻

Genre: Porn with minimal plot

Rating: so crazy explicit lmao. Minors please leave 💞

Tags: dom!Peter, sub!female!, bdsm kinda?, edging, fingering, orgasm delay, orgasm denial, dubcon? kinda?, choking, hitting, hair pulling… all that good stuff

As always, I appreciate any and all feedback. You know I love to hear you, baby 🙏🏻

Hawkins National Laboratory was going to be the biggest story in my journalism career. Like many children in this area of Indiana, I had grown up hearing all kinds of rumors, stories and conspiracies surrounding the mythic brick building in the woods.

Being a casual column writer for the Indianapolis Recorder gave me access to plenty of information, but most of it felt so mundane compared to what I might be able to uncover in the source of all my childhood nightmares. Through my boss, I was able to secure an interview with one Dr. Martin Brenner, the supposed mastermind behind the madness. The only question now was whether or not I would learn the truth.

Parked outside of the structure, it felt no different than those creepy campfire tales my friends and I had swapped in our youth. This time, however, I knew I was going to go inside. I was going to settle fact and fiction.

I smoothed out my smart pencil skirt and clutched my notepad and two pens close to my chest (I had to have two, just in case one ran out in the middle of the interview, but I had tested them both twice before leaving the house). My modest high heels clicked against the pavement before stopping at the tall glass front door. I took one final deep breath before pulling it open.

The lobby was beyond what I was expecting. Panels of sleek, dark wood lined the walls, and a kind-eyed brunette woman sat behind a mahogany desk with a warmly lit lamp set atop it.

“How can I help you?” She spoke, folding her fingers together and resting them on her appointment book.

“I have a two o’clock with Dr. Brenner,” I replied. I could feel my knuckles turning white around my notepad.

The young lady glanced down at her calendar before tapping twice on my name.

“You’re right on time. I’ll buzz you through the main doors. Go down the hallway and go through security. They’ll guide you from there.”

“Thank you so much,” I responded, already making my way around her desk towards a set of hospital-like doors. She pressed a button behind her desk, sending a buzzing ring throughout the lobby, followed by the click of the door’s lock. I swung it open and entered a lengthy hallway lined with sterile white tile.

Scents of various disinfectants stung my nose as I rushed down the corridor. My watch read twelve minutes before two, and I prayed whatever security measures I had to clear wouldn’t take long.

Around the hallway’s corner stood a second pair of doors with a metal detector and X-ray machine before them. A slender, blonde-haired man dressed in all white stood patiently with his hands clasped in front of his belt next to the machinery.

“Hi, I have an appointment with Dr. Brenner,” I sputtered, paying no mind to the orderly as I set my belongings on the conveyor belt into the X-ray.

“Just remove your shoes, jacket and anything in your pockets,” his gentle voice instructed me.

I followed his orders, sending each of my items into the machine before I stood tall in front of the metal detector. The spotlessly clean man mirrored my stance on the opposite side. Our eyes met for a second before he silently raised two fingers and motioned me towards him with them. I felt a sting of intimidation rush through me as he locked his eyes on me while I stepped forward. My heart skipped a beat when the metal detector beeped.

“It’s okay. Step out and try again,” he commanded, his eyes still motionless.

I did as I was told, stepping backwards and then forwards. The metallic chime rang out once more.

“Are you wearing any jewelry?” He questioned, tilting his head slightly.

“None at all…” I trailed off, touching my earlobes, fingers and neck.

“…Any I can’t see?” He spoke softly.

My eyes shot up to his, half offended by the question, “No.”

“One last time, then. Raise your hands above your head this time.”

I repeated my action, raising my hands as instructed. As predicted, the machine buzzed again.

“I’m going to have to pat you down. We’ll step into the security office for some privacy, okay?”

“Excuse me?” I spat, feeling my eyebrows raise with my temper.

“You don’t have to,” he smiled kindly, “you can always leave.”

I wished in my heart that he was joking, but I could tell he was deathly serious.

“Fine,” I spat, shaking my head in disbelief.

“You can put your shoes back on,” the orderly spoke gently. He picked up my blazer and notepad for me as I slipped my feet back into my heels impatiently.

“Let’s get this over with,” I sighed.

“Right this way,” he gestured into an open door. I walked in before him, nervously kneading my knuckles.

He set my items on a sterile steel table and turned to face me as I glanced around the office. The walls were the same bland tile, nothing on them except for a clock, which read ten minutes before two.

“Please hurry, I don’t want to be late for my meeting,” I pleaded, feeling the rising urge to tap my heels.

“You won’t be, I promise,” a cheeky smile spoke, “I’m Peter by the way.”

“Great, nice to meet you Peter. Let’s go,” I hurried him, not bothering to introduce myself to the security guard orderly that I would never see again.

“Arms out, feet shoulder-width apart,” he instructed. I obeyed yet again.

His palms clasped around the top of my right thigh and began to slowly pat inches at a time down my leg.

“You don’t have a female security guard to do this?” I huffed.

“I’m afraid not. The only women here are the nurse and the secretary,” Peter sighed. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at the response.

Once down to my ankle, he raised his hands to check left leg, but the tip of his thumb grazed me where I was most sensitive, causing my breath to hitch. I prayed he hadn’t noticed as he worked his way further down.

“Nothing yet…” he reported once down to my foot.

A lightbulb went off in my head. My IUD. I had a copper birth control device in my cervix. Could that have set off the metal detector? Surely copper couldn’t trigger it. But what else could it possibly be? I knew that I genuinely had nothing, but how could I tell Peter that without proving it?

Peter began to pat down my right arm, from shoulder to wrist, before moving to my left.

“Listen, I swear I have nothing. I’m just a journalist…” I began to bargain.

“I actually do believe you, but it’s just laboratory protocol,” Peter grinned. His eyes shone a bright blue even in the dingy fluorescent lighting, and I felt a twinge of happiness that at least he was a gentleman.

“The metal detector indicated something at waist level, so I’ll need to examine there further. Again, you may leave at any time.”

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, exhaling slowly through my nose.

“Okay. Let’s get it over with.”

“I’m just going to slide two fingers into the waist band of your skirt, okay?” Peter informed more than he asked.

“Okay,” I nodded with a deep breath.

As he had narrated, his slender index and middle fingers from each hand slipped into the top of my skirt next to my hip bones, resting atop the hem. As I exhaled, the pressure on his knuckles decreased, the warmth of them abandoning the crisp caress of my blouse.

“Just going to slide them around to the back now,” he gently described his action. As promised, those slim fingers slithered around my hips towards my spine.

With his arms around my waist, I paused to glance at his sapphire eyes, preciously surveying his work. A breath left his lips and cascaded down my chest just as he lifted his touch from my body.

“All looks well, but I’m afraid that means I still have searching to do,” Peter sighed, clasping his hands in front of his belt buckle.

“This is ridiculous,” I fumed, “look, it must have been a fluke. I promise I just want to go to my interview and then leave.”

Peter’s doe-like eyes blinked innocently as I ranted.

“I believe you, miss, I really do. Unfortunately, it’s not my decision. You may either continue, or leave the facility,” his honeyed, overly calm voice stated.

“Fine. What next?” I asked, placing my hands on my hips.

Peter cleared his throat as his eyes darted to the floor between us before responding, “I’ll need you to remove your skirt so I may assess what’s underneath.”

“Assess what’s underneath? What are you, a fucking cop?” I protested, my voice growing in volume with each syllable. Peter didn’t bat an eye.

“You’re welcome to leave at any time, but this is protocol,” he assured me, “I’ll turn away while you undress.”

I thought back to all the time I had spent dreaming about being able to interview Dr. Brenner. The countless nights of sleep I lost staring at my ceiling dreaming about what I would write and what questions I would ask. Was I really going to back out now? Could I just chalk this up to one of the things a girl has to do to fulfill a dream?

I silently nodded and Peter turned on his heels to face the door.

The parting of the zipper was the only noise in the uncomfortable silence. I shimmied my skirt off my hips, allowing it to pool around my ankles before picking it up and grasping it timidly at my waist. The cool, sterile air brushed across my bare backside, sending a wave of goosebumps up to my neck.

“Okay,” I spoke shakily.

The orderly turned back to me and immediately placed his hand on my skirt. I allowed him to take it, kneading my fingers anxiously with nothing left to protect my modesty.

Peter crouched curiously at eye-level with my panties. I felt like a common whore standing before the stranger in nothing but my undergarments and high heels. Of course, today was the day I had decided to wear garters instead of regular pantyhose, which only amplified my bashfulness.

“Could have been these,” he noted, slipping his index finger beneath one of the nude garter straps holding up my stocking, snapping one of the metallic clasps against my thigh.

I felt my heart rate increase dramatically beneath his touch. Blood rushed to my core, causing a noticeable temperature increase between my legs. The visual alone of golden blonde locks kneeling before me was enough to create a knot in my abdomen that grew harder and harder to ignore.

The orderly tsked and shook his head, “I think that’s too small of an amount of metal. It must be something else.”

My palms began to grow clammy as I debated telling him about my contraceptive. 


“Could there be something… inside you? A medical device, perhaps?” Peter asked, his eyes shooting up to mine from between my legs. I had to tell him now.

“Yes,” I spat out, feeling my stomach turn, “I have a copper birth control device.”

“I see…” he trailed off, shifting his gaze to the floor.

“That’s it. I know that’s all. I was just scared to tell you, I had this crazy idea that you would have to confirm it or something.” I blurted, vomiting my words all over him.

A silence grew between us, and Peter’s choice not to disprove my absurd theory became increasingly worrisome. Finally, he rose to his feet, returning to his polite stance with his hands held above his belt.

“I”m afraid that actually is the case,” Peter finally confessed.

My head fell back as I took a deep breath. I closed my eyes imagining what exactly this process might look like. I glanced back at the clock on the wall. I had seven minutes left.

“You better be fucking fast,” I voiced sternly, turning back to those blue eyes.

“Not a problem. Remember, you may leave at any time,” he reassured me.

I nodded as he gestured towards a padded table lined with parchment-like paper, beckoning me to lay back across it. I relaxed back against it, closing my eyes as the orderly shuffled over and stood patiently next to the table.

“Would you like to remove your undergarments, or would you prefer I work around them?” He asked cordially, as if any of this process was anything less than crass.

“I’m in a hurry, just do what you have to do,” I instructed, closing my eyes and clasping my hands above my stomach.

His fingertips wasted no time snaking under my panties and pushing them aside. I exhaled slowly as his warm touch glided over my pussy.

“Breathe for me,” he guided. On my next inhale, he slipped a finger inside me.

Something between a pornographic moan and a wince escaped me, and I found myself biting my lip to prevent more from following it.

“You’re doing such a good job,” that silvery voice cooed.

A twinge of shame crawled from my stomach to my chest as I realized that I was already dripping wet from the interaction. Something about his maintained innocence -everything from his crisp white uniform to his “this is strictly protocol” attitude”- ignited a craving I didn’t know I had. Whatever it was, I knew it was going to make me miss my interview.

“Okay, I think I feel the string,” Peter remarked, shifting his body to give his arm a better angle.

I felt his finger begin to slide out of me when I jolted my eyes open and gripped his wrist assertively.

“Are you sure?” Was all I could managed to spit out.

I lessened my grasp on his wrist and relaxed slightly, “I mean. Are you positive? You don’t need more time?”

“I’m fairly certain, I mean…” he trailed off, clearly missing the memo.

“Peter,” I finally spoke his name, “I think you need to check more thoroughly.”

“Are you sure? You’re going to miss your interview…” those blue eyes batted at me, and suddenly I wasn’t the one feeling so bashful.

“Fuck my interview,” I moaned, guiding his middle finger up to join his index inside me.

“Oh my,” Peter’s voice dropped an octave and those precious blue eyes shifted infernal.

“Please?” I urged, shifting to allow him better access.

“I don’t know,” he falsely contemplated, sinking two fingers into my pussy as he spoke, “are you going to be good for me?”

I choked on a moan rising in my throat before closing my eyes and nodding rapidly. Peter clicked his tongue, uncertain of my answer. I squeezed my eyes tightly and allowed my chest to relax. The grim, florescent light suddenly felt warmer as his slender fingers thrust into me.

“Jesus,” he remarked, slowing his pace, “tightening up on me already, hmm?”

I whined a vague response, bucking my hips against him. Wordlessly, Peter grabbed my leg nearest to him and swung kit over his head so it rested atop his shoulder and stepped forward, forcing my back to arch to accommodate him. Whimpers flowed freely from me as he quickened his pace, and I couldn’t help but open my eyes to look down and take in the sight of his fingers sinking into me.

With his free hand, he reached up and snatched a fistful of hair at the crown of my head and jerked forward, “That’s right, watch my fingers fuck you.”

Whimpers fell into wanton moans, and Peter switched to using his middle and ring finger, curling devilishly where I needed him most.

“Shit, Peter, I’m going to c-“

Before I could even speak the words, the orderly removed his touch entirely from my pussy and released his grip on my hair. My leg slid off of his shoulder, hung carelessly off the edge of the table. Dumbfounded, my misty eyes searched for his. Peter stood motionless, watching me with no readable expression on his face.

Once I had managed to find my breath a little, he spoke, “Are you done?”

“What? No, I was about to and you-“

The back of Peter’s hand landed a heavy smack across my cheek as he leaned in close to whisper, “Are you done being a needy bitch?”

Holding my stinging cheek, I gazed up at him in erotic trepidation.

“Y-yes,” I whispered, not even convincing myself of my answer.

“Good,” he praised, creeping his hand back to my pussy, “let’s continue.”

My panties were pushed to the side once more, and my body lurched forward onto Peter’s fingers as they writhed back into me. He leaned over me, placing his free hand at the base of my neck and whispered in my ear, “I knew you were fucking dirty the second you walked around that corner.”

I felt myself grip him tighter as he accused me, enthralled with his whorish perception of me.

“Fuck, I’m so glad you had to search me, Peter,” I panted, squirming beneath him as his grip on my neck grew stronger.

A sinister chuckle crept from his throat, “I know, baby. Almost like it was meant to be, hmm?”

His question would have felt more ominous if the orgasm that I was fighting against wasn’t growing stronger by the second. I writhed beneath him harshly, now with the intention of staving myself off until Peter was ready. I spread my legs further for him, wrapping my right calf around his waist to give him direct access. My toes curled against the inside of my shoes as I struggled to pull him closer to me.

“Please, Peter, I can’t hold it back much longer,” I squealed, my vision blurring as I starred up at the bleak white ceiling tiles.

“What’s that? Are you begging me to let you cum?” Peter mocked, slowing his pace ever so slightly.

I nodded intently, feeling my chin brush against his knuckles.

“Almost. I know you can hold out just a little longer. Can you do that for me?” He positioned his face just inches from mine, tilting his chin up so he still looked down upon me. Appearing pathetic no longer mattered to me, I just wanted him to grant me release.

“Yes,” I told a half-truth. If he quickened his pace in the slightest, there would be no more waiting.

The stern grip on my throat vanished, his hand now working its way to the collar of my blouse. Without breaking eye contact, Peter effortlessly undid two of my buttons, leaving my sternum and the center of my bra exposed. Nimble fingers pushed the cup of my bra to the side, leaving half of my chest fully exposed. He traced around my nipple slowly at first, sending a shockwave sensation through my abdomen. As my pleasure peaked higher and higher, Peter’s lips swapped with his fingers, sucking teasingly at my flesh.

“Christ, I can’t- I have to-“ I stuttered between breaths.

“Go ahead. Let me hear you cum,” Peter permitted.

My leg’s grip on his waist doubled, and in my senseless passion, my hands clawed at his shoulders and across his back, finally releasing myself upon him. A stream of curses and lustful whimpers echoed through the overly-hygienic office, mixing flawlessly with Peter’s determined grunts as he pushed himself. Peter lifted his head from my chest as my climax began to fade, a bead of sweat falling from his furrowed brow to my sternum. His sapphire eyes bore into mine as the two of us panted back and forth.

“Taste yourself,” Peter commanded, sliding his fingers out of me and up to my tongue. I obliged, pleased at how his scent mingled with my taste. Pearly white teeth smiled approvingly at how eager I was to fill his request.

“I have a confession to make,” the orderly informed, bracing his weight on his palm, now resting next to my head.

“Yes?” I replied, slipping his fingers out of my mouth and holding them delicately between my own.

“I always set off the metal detector when pretty girls come through.”

[jcbbby]

for prompts: 🕷️ You won't have to be afraid ever again

🎉JCBBBY'S 500 FOLLOWER PARTY🎉

thank you for being here and for celebrating with me!!! your other prompt is coming up next as well :) - "You won't have to be afraid ever again." warnings: none! genre: fluff note: Henry and reader are both young adults, like 18 and 20 years old. -

You could still hear the alarms echoing, but growing more faint, as you and Henry both ran through the woods. The sirens mixed with the sound of leaves and sticks crunching under your feet, and your heavy breathing, trying to stay fast. The last hour or so was merely a blur, your mind unable to comprehend everything that had just happened. Henry had told you just this morning of his plan to escape and how he hoped you come with him. Now you trailed behind him in the outside world for the first time since you were a young child, desperately trying to out run the remaining guards, at least the ones Henry hadn't attacked in his fight for the two of you to escape.

He had been the first and only child at the lab, until you arrived. He was a couple years older than you, but the two of you quickly developed a friendship as the only kids there. And then came the others. Most looked down on the two of you, for some reason. Perhaps because you were both rather shy around them, but it seemed to come off as aloof and standoffish to them. But you didn't care what they thought, because at least you had Henry. And now, all you had was Henry. Henry and your hospital gown.

"Here, get down!" Henry scream-whispered, ducking into a bush, pulling you by the arm in with him.

You both panted heavily, scanning the area through the branches. You heard the booming voices of the guards. He brought his finger up to his lips, signaling to be very quiet. The sound of crunching leaves under feet grew closer. You put your hand over your nose and mouth, trying to muffle the sound of your irregular breathing.

"Show yourselves!" You heard one shout.

"Don't draw this out for yourselves." Another said.

A pair of guards walked by you, catching a glimpse of them through the leaves. You clung to Henry, your breath caught in your chest. You were terrified of being found, as you knew the punishment would be monumental. You had seen Henry received such awful punishments for much less than this. He held you tight, gently caressing your shoulder with his thumb to soothe you. You both watched intently as the guards swarmed, before muttering to each other that the area was clear. Their footsteps and chatter retreated, and you both let out the breaths you were holding in relief.

"I've never been more scared in my life." You ran a hand over your face, feeling tears that you hadn't even realized were falling.

Henry pulled you into him, wrapping his arms around you. "Hey...you won't ever have to be afraid ever again." He released you, keeping an arm on your shoulder. "It's just us now, no guards, no punishments, no papa. We did it, we're free." He smiled.

You smiled back to him. "Free..." You repeated.

He nodded. "Now, we're going to need to stay hidden here for a bit, at least until it's dark. Then I know where we can go, alright?"

You nodded, settling on to the ground to wait for nightfall. The two of you sat mostly in silence, keeping an ear out for any sign of lab staff coming for you. Once the sun had finally set, he lead you from the bush out into the woods. You weren't sure how long you walked, but it felt like a lifetime, between the darkness and the fear of someone waiting to grab you and drag you back.

Luckily, no one did. You began to see the yellow light of street lamps glowing from beyond the trees. You exited the woods out on to a quiet street. Henry looked around carefully before taking your hand, and quickly leading you down the road. He brought you upon a large, dark house. The windows were boarded up, and the lawn horribly overgrown. He stopped just in front of it, taking in a deep breath as he stared.

"What is it?" You asked, looking between him and the house.

"Nothing...just...I used to live here. This was my house before..." He trailed off. "Anyway, we can stay here tonight. Come on."

He started up the walkway towards the front door. In the moonlight, you could see the beautiful stained glass window, an image of a rose, on the door. Henry reached for the door handle, jostling it around when it wouldn't open. He let out a huff of frustration, looking around. His eyes landed on a large rock just to the right of the steps. Picking it up, he immediately hurled it directly at the rose, shattering a large hole in the center. He reached his arm carefully through the opening, unlocking and opening the door to allow the both of you inside and closing it behind you.

"I can't see anything." You said, feeling the wall to make sure you didn't trip before your eyes could adjust.

"Yeah, I don't think there's been electricity or running water here in years, unfortunately... but I just figured we could just stay here tonight. Tomorrow we'll keep moving."

"It's cold in here." You said in the darkness, shivering in just your hospital gown.

"Everything should still be in here...my parents' old room might have some clothes to change into. Probably would be best to blend in. Here-" He took your hand, helping to guide you to the stairs, and laid it on the banister.

Once upstairs, he brought you to a large bedroom. There was a large bed against the wall, along with a couple dressers and a vanity mirror that you could see as the light from the moon and the street shone in. Henry went over to a dresser, prying open long since used drawers, and rummaged through them for a moment. Pulling out a blouse, and then a pair of pants. He handed them to you, and then went to the other dresser, retrieving a new button up and some dark slacks.

"Uh...oh, um, sorry." Henry noticed you standing there, not knowing where to change. "I'll just uh...here.." He turned around, placing the button up in front of his face.

You took your turns averting your eyes and letting the other change. Henry took both of your old clothes, stuffing them back into the drawers, just in case. He then went over to the bed and reached for the cover. As he brought it back to reveal the sheets and pillows, a cloud of dust erupted from the duvet. He coughed as he waved it away.

"Luckily it was just the top." He said, patting the covers underneath, nothing coming off of them, having been perfectly preserved by the tightly made bed.

He threw the duvet to the end of the mattress, discarding it. The both of you climbed in to the bed, settling in close to each other. You turned to face him, the moonlight hitting his face, illuminating the spatter of blood from the climax of your escape.

"Are you sure we'll be safe here? And after we leave?"

Henry smiled, reaching to gently stroke your cheek. "I promise. Our lives begin now, alright? We're finally free."

[usetheeauthor]

Love, Papa 2

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

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

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

word count: 5.3k+

series masterlist

Chapter 2: Dumb Bunny

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, please.” You whimper.

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

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

“More!” Papa yells.

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

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

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

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

“Yes, Papa.” They say in unison.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

————————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—————

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

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

“Why?” Was all he said.

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

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

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

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

“Belle?”

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

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

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

“I’m sorry.” She whispers.

“Why?”

“Because you’re here.”

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

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

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

Eleven blinks in surprise. “Really?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s going on?” He asks.

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

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

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

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

“Are you always this stoic?” You mutter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’d like to see you try.”

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

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

One studies your face for an answer.

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

“One.” He says.

“Your real name.”

“That’s my real name.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“It’s the only name I could recall.”

“What about your life before this?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“For what?”

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

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

“T-there were o-others?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hello, Belle.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—————

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

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

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

“Why are you staring at me like this?”

“Like how?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

————

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

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

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

“Sorry, papa.”

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

“Yes!” One and Eleven say in unison.

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

You smile brightly and nod. “Y-yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why do you have that?”

“Why do you care?” He counters.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not now, dear. I—-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Score: 1 for the ‘dumb bunny’.

[angelst4re]

hey bae can you do some more of the fic recommendations like you did for jace? preferably for peter/ henry 🫶💕 love you

of course i can!! i have so many henry/peter/001 fics from ao3 saved on a google doc... and i am more than happy to share them with everyone! <3

୨୧ Peter Ballard/Henry Creel /001/Vecna fic recs ୨୧ (and they all include smut...)

(I should also mention that the majority of these are fem/afab reader, because (as we've discovered) there aren't many male reader fics <3)

ANYTHING by my beloved Peggy, she has written the best fanfictions I have ever read. But a few of my favourites are the Peter p*rn collection which is just a bunch of one shots :) "You & Me" and "Oh, Ashes..." which is a burnt!henry fic (and it's the best thing i have ever read!)

"Henry Creel hot one shots" - if you couldn't tell these are just one shots, and one of them includes doctor!Henry ;)

"Peter Ballard brain rot" - another one that's just one shots :) my favourite parts are chapter 9, 12 and 13!

"Delicate" - tattooed henry creel. do i have to say more??

"My Tempest" - this includes henry in both human and vecna form :)

"Strange First Times" - this one's pretty wild, you're taken the lab and henry breeds you... tw for non-con/dub-con

"Sweetheart" - i don't know how to describe this one other than perfect (and also praise kink <3)

"Dreaming of an angel" - (chapter 1 is a fem!reader and chapter two is a male!reader version!) basically just worshipping henry :)

"What goes on behind closed doors" - ...the tags...

Let me know if you'd like more!! :)

[romanscoming]

“..IT WAS ALL AN ILLUSION..”

-----

TAGLIST | REQUEST | WATTPAD - JOIN TAGLIST

-----

MASTERLIST. 1

PETER BALLARD X BLACK!LAB-RAT!READER (003/007?) x STEVE HARRINGTION

POWERS

TELEPATHY - the power to sense the thoughts of people.

PATHOKINESIS - the power to sense and manipulate the emotions of others.

MIMIC - able to copy the knowledge, skills, and power of every individual.

_________ KIDS GO MISSING 9x OUTTA 10..., right?

Y/N L/N WENT MISSING IN THE LATE 70's, but was pronounced dead after years of not finding her, BUT what if I tell you... SHES ALIVE

HIDDEN GIRL-KEPT IN A LAB, to work of these master powers she all of upsettingly have?

FALLING INLOVE WITH THE ENEMY.., who secretly can't let her go, and wants her for his own like some American house wife.. not to mention this "Frenemy" she's just learning she has after she watches her 'sister' kill him.. OR NOT?

OR IS IT.. the only person who truly knew her being "dead" and away from her for a long time which is making her crave attention from others boyfriends.., but as she gets closer little things changes day by day, until it feels like someone is watching her.. and that someone being which?

_________

I HAVE 511 FOLLOWERS THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH. I'VE BEEN BUSY WITH MY BDAY AND STUFF, I BEEN MOVING AROUND A LOT AND GOING PLACES, BUT ILL TRY AND BE ON HERE MORE. ILL TRY AND GO TO EVERY REQUEST TODAY, SOME EASY ONE I CAN DO QUICKLY, I HAVE TO CHECK MY GOOGLE-DRVE TO SEE IF I HAVE MORE TAGLIST @'S YK, BUT THANK YOU FOR UR PATIENTS, IM RLLY TRYING TO FINISH MY GARETH/EDDIE/READER SMUT, WHICH IS GOING TO BE HELLA LONG BUT I KNOW YOU GUYS ARE GOING TO ENJOY IT, BUT WOULD YOU GUYS LIKE ME TO DO ANOTHER STRANGER THINGS P.LINKS?

ANY MISTAKES/MISSPELLS TELL ME.

[bebx]

Relationships: Henry Creel & Eleven, Henry Creel & Martin Brenner, Henry Creel & Doctor Sam Owens

Summary:

It was certainly not the first time Doctor Brenner — Papa — abused him. Doesn't make the damage any less severe than the previous time it happened though.

Henry was trying to survive at the Lab. Sometimes he started to wonder if death might be better than life as a wounded prisoner. Not that he had a choice, anyway.

Takes place during Henry’s time as an orderly at Hawkins Lab.

[ria-coolgirl]

Awesome work 🤩 @britany1997

Nightmares and Day-dreams

Peter Ballard x GN Reader

Note: I hope y’all enjoy this! This’ll be my last fic till May. I thought it would be fun to dip into some horror and angst for this one. (The next one will be fluffy I promise haha)

Comment to be added to my Peter/Henry Taglist

Warnings: Horror, dark themes, blood and gore, dead bodies, manipulating (reader’s innocent and a little lonely and this gets taken advantage of), psychic abilities, a tiny bit of mind control, unhappy ending

A soft knock on the door of your clinic woke you from your light slumber. You jolted, combing your fingers through your hair and wiping the drool from the corner of your mouth.

You smiled as you walked to the door. Only one person ever knocked, the same person who’d occupied your dreams a today and every night for weeks.

Since you’d started working at Hawkins lab, you hadn’t been able to get him out of your head. Sure he was attractive and all, his blue eyes alone would have anyone falling all over him. But there was something about him, something more than just his good looks.

Peter was so…sweet. He was patient with the kids, he was attentive and considerate of you and all his coworkers, God you’d rarely ever seen him without a smile on his face.

He was a genuinely good guy, sort of a rarity for you these days.

So when your day time fantasies had followed you to bed, you hadn’t been all that surprised. Peter was…the perfect man.

When he knocked again, you snapped back to reality. You realized you’d been thinking about his soft smile for much too long, once again.

You yanked the door open, only to be met with the sight of the sheepish, blond man, holding his hand against his chest and staining his all white clothes a deep red.

“Peter!” You gasped, your hands flying to cover your mouth as blood dripped down his wrist. Without Peter’s accident prone nature, you were certain you’d be out of a job.

“Hi,” he grimaced, wincing just a bit in pain.

“Oh my God Peter please get in here,” you grabbed his uninjured arm and pulled him inside.

He stumbled in behind you, more boy than man, blushing profusely.

You pulled out a chair, “sit,” you ordered before rushing to grab bandages and antiseptics.

Once you’d gathered supplies you knelt in between his legs. “Show me,” you ordered.

Reluctantly, he pulled his arm away from his chest to reveal the massive gash. It was worse than you could have imagined.

“How’d you even do this!?” You half asked and half scolded.

He cringed, “oh you know…” he trailed off but you hadn’t really been listening, too invested in stitching him up.

You sighed as you finished. “You can’t keep doing this,” you told him.

He gazed into your eyes, that sweet smile you loved so much brightening his whole face. “But then I wouldn’t get to enjoy the pleasure of your company.”

You blushed, trying to hide it as you stood to put away all of your first aid supplies.

“Don’t you have work to get back to?” you asked, flustered out of your mind.

He chuckled, “yeah I’d better get going.”

As he slipped out the door, you wondered how you managed to get anything done with him around.

You propped your head up on one hand, fighting sleep and losing as you glanced at the clock to read 10:42am. You sighed.

You couldn’t figure out what had you so tired these days. You’d been getting a full eight hours! And damn, you figured with your dreams filled with the face of your favorite blond man you would have slept a lot better.

You rubbed circles into your temples. You felt a wave of the same ‘head in a trash compactor’ feeling you did when you got no sleep at all. What was wrong with you?

Suddenly, you were roused from your thoughts by a familiar knock on your door.

Your pained face morphed into a bright smile. Peter.

When you opened the door he was standing before you, all white uniform, mug in hand.

“Good morning,” he smiled.

You returned his grin, even though your morning had been anything but good, it was much better now.

“No more injuries I hope?” You teased.

He laughed. “Not yet, but it’s still early I suppose.” He opened two creamers and poured them into the mug, stirring absentmindedly.

“Arm heeled up pretty nicely,” you noticed, coming around to touch the small mark where the giant gash had once been.

“Oh yeah,” he flexed a bit, “just needed a couple weeks and some TLC from my favorite nurse”

You giggled at his flirting, wondering what his curls would feel like if you ran your fingers through his hair.

He handed you the mug, “brought this for you.”

You gasped just a bit before taking a sip of the steaming liquid.

“Thank you so much,” you were touched.

“Don’t mention it,” he winked as he slipped out the door.

You smiled to yourself, he was so thoughtful, so considerate. You figured he must have been paying attention to you to notice you’d been so lethargic.

But…then again you hadn’t seen him this morning, not until now.

You shrugged, maybe he brought everyone coffee.

You pushed the thought out of your head, if that was the case, you didn’t want to know. You’d rather believe he thought you were special.

You took another long sip.

You startled awake at the feeling of someone nudging your arm softly. As you scrambled to collect your thoughts, still half asleep, you were met with Peter’s concerned face.

“Are you alright,” he asked.

“Yeah! Yes, I’m fine,” you babbled, blushing profusely.

“I knocked four times, I thought it would be ok to come in…” he trailed off, then frowned. “You’re really ok?”

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “Yeah um, I haven’t been sleeping well.” You told him.

But you had been sleeping well. For the past few days you’d been sleeping for ten hours instead of eight. Yet it seemed to be doing absolutely nothing, you were still exhausted. Past the point of struggling to stay awake, you were fully napping at work now.

“Oh that’s awful,” you could feel Peter’s concern, his gaze trained on your drooping eyes. “That’s how they torture people you know…lack of sleep.”

“Really?” you yawned, not processing a single word he said.

“You should get some rest,” he told you.

“What? No! I can’t sleep here,” you protested, “didn’t you need something? You must have come here for something.”

“Just a band aid,” he tugged your hand until you were standing, leading you towards the cot in your tiny clinic. “I can get it on the way out, why don’t you lie down?”

The more you mulled it over, the more that measly cot began to look like a king bed at the Ritz Carlton.

“Well…maybe I could for a little…”

He nodded, “you’re of no use to anyone if you’re tired,” he rationalized, “besides, you deserve it.”

“I deserve it,” you repeated as you climbed onto the cot.

“That’s right,” he smiled as he crept towards the door, flicking off the light switch on his way out.

You barely even noticed him leave as you drifted off.

You awoke abruptly to the sound of an alarm blaring. You stumbled off the cot. Of course something happened during the few seconds, you checked your watch, hours you’d been asleep.

You grabbed your first aid kit and rushed into the hallway, but the sight you were met with chilled you to your core.

Your hands covered your mouth as you slumped against the wall in shock. Corridors you’d walked down every day were now stained with blood. Children you’d tended to when they were sick, held when they were crying, now littered the linoleum floor.

Fear coursed through you. You slid down the wall until you were crouched in a ball, defeated, all but waiting for whatever monster had pillaged the lab to take you too. You couldn’t help but think of Peter, wondering if your perfect boy had escaped, if he was ok.

As tears began to prick your eyes, Peter crept around the corner, covered in blood yet, more serene than you’d ever seen him.

Your heart leapt in your chest. Peter had evaded the murderer, maybe there was hope for the two of you after all.

But as he stalked closer, any semblance of hope left within you shattered.

Peter wasn’t just calm, he was…pleased.

As he stepped over the corpses of discarded children, he smiled down at their youthful faces. He nudged them to the side with his feet.

You could feel your heart pounding out of your chest as you realized the blood splattered on his face wasn’t his own.

He knelt down in front of you, smiling softly and brushing your hair behind your ear. “Hello sweetheart,” he cooed.

You recoiled, his soft touch might as well have been a stab. Any fondness you’d had for him melted away.

“Ah ah,” he chided, gripping your chin and pulling you close. “Don’t shy away from me.”

If you moved to escape his touch, he gripped you harder. His head followed your movements like a snake, waiting to strike.

“Please,” your voice broke, “don’t kill me.” You begged, trading your pride for a chance at survival.

“Kill you?” Peter looked hurt, “no darling I would never kill you,” he moved to cup your face.

You squeaked.

He smiled, “I’d rather keep you.”

Peter was a deadly spider and he’d entangled you in his web. As much as you squirmed and struggled to escape, it was already much too late.

“K-keep me?” You felt a slimey feeling overtake you, “like…you want me to be your…partner?” The dream you’d had for so long had dissolved to a nightmare.

He chuckled as he stroked the back of his hand down your cheek.

The gesture made your skin crawl.

“Silly human, you’re adorable.” He pinched your cheek cruelly, “how do I say this you’re… beneath me.”

You hated that his words could hurt you.

“You’re more like a…hmm how should I say this,” his brow furrowed, “ah, you’re more like a pet to me, a bunny or a kitten or something.”

You felt like you’d been punched.

“Your mind, it’s so fun to play with,” his smile was sinister, “I could never let you go.”

Your face twisted in disgust, you couldn’t imagine a worse fate for yourself.

Peter sensed your discomfort. “You’ll come around,” he decided, “but for now, you’ve had a rough day and you need your rest.”

He threw you a mocking pout as he placed a hand on your forehead.

Your eyes began to flutter closed, as much as you tried you couldn’t fight whatever Peter was doing.

“Sweet dreams,” he whispered as your world faded to black.

Taglist🖤:

@6lostgirl6 @misslavenderlady @sad-ghost-of-garbage @bloodywickedvamp @lostboys1987girl @crustyboypix @gothamslostboy @arbesa-mind @dwaynesluscioushair @anna1306

[creelarke]

Creelarke where, instead of the massacre, Henry escaped the Lab with Eleven that day.

he and Eleven needed to find some place to hide, a shelter. and Henry knew it’s been more than a decade since he and Scott were separated. maybe Scott already moved out of Hawkins, and even if Scott still lived here, they were both adults now; Henry didn’t know if Scott would still recognize or even remember him. but he didn’t know any other place to go.

so he and Eleven went to Scott’s house (obviously, Eleven didn’t know Scott, she was just following Henry.)

“is this your friend’s house?” Eleven asked, because Henry had been standing in front of Scott’s house — too afraid to knock — for several minutes now.

the house still looked the same, same color and everything. it was almost too overwhelming for Henry, being here again (the place where he and Scott shared so many memories together) when he thought he would rot at that place, the Lab.

is this your friend’s house? Eleven’s question was simple, and yet Henry never seemed to find his voice.

but in the end he gathered up his courage, saying “I hope so,” before eventually — eventually — Henry knocked.

what if it’s someone else opening the door? what if it’s Scott’s wife opening the door?

Henry didn’t know why the latter scared him more than any other possibilities his mind came up with. he didn’t know if Scott was married, if he was in a relationship with anyone. and he didn’t know why the thoughts of Scott being in love with someone else felt like a knife to the heart. it wasn’t like he and Scott were ever a thing. they were just children.

but Henry’s heart was beating faster and faster as seconds went by (he was sure Eleven could hear it).

it’s only been less than half a minute, but it felt to Henry like forever, before the door opened.

Scott had changed so much. Henry could barely recognize him. but those eyes, they were the same. Henry recognized Scott’s eyes anywhere.

Scott looked… shocked, to see a grown man and a child standing on his front porch. but Scott’s eyes were glued to Henry.

and Henry had no idea if Scott knew who he was, if Scott recognized or remembered him.

but after a moment of silence, Scott’s mouth started moving, the name Henry thought he’d never hear from Scott’s mouth again. —

“Henry? is that you?”

[live-laugh-lesbian80083]

Stranger Things Fic Library

Main Fic Library

*-smut ⭐-favorite

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

001/Henry Creel/Peter Ballard/Vecna

Happy Birthday

Argyle

Basement Couch*

Argyle as your boyfriend - headcannons

Headcannons

sneaking out

Homesick

Billy Hargrove

⭐ Movie Night

⭐ Just The Two Of Us

Just To Ourselves

Eddie Munson

fan behavior*

Blurb by

Prized Possession

⭐ The Throne

Etherial

Anything For You, Sweetheart

⭐ The Little Black Cat

⭐ The Whore of Babylon*

Sweet

Gareth Emerson

Early Morning Radio

Teddy Bear

Jonathan Byers

Back To The Old House

Steve Harrington

⭐ Sleepy Steve

⭐ Halloween

To Be Alone Together

Loser Lover

[jennay]

lonely

Request: Maybe brenner said something to the nurse or she saw something that made her upset. Peter comforts reader.

Word Count: 1100ish

A/N: Let me know your thoughts 💜

Master List

When you first arrived at the lab, you were excited to make friends and bond with people you'd be around daily for the following year. Still, bonding only happened with one person, and even then, you couldn't tell if you were only friends because of your situation or if you could leave the lab and still get along in the outside world.

Feeling lonely wasn't typical for you, but you felt it nearly every day for the last month. You missed your parents, your siblings, and your friends. You missed socializing with more than five people a day.

You weren't allowed to be around the children anymore; last time, you got an insight into how they were being punished, and not only did you completely lose your mind, but you're massive meltdown proved to Dr. Martin Brenner that you weren't cut out for that side of things even though your job title was nursing.

You weren't supposed to take breaks whenever you wanted but needed to find Peter. He was the only person who would be excited with you, and though he never showed many expressions, you knew he would at least give you one of his crooked smiles and a pat on the back. Human connection wasn't a regular thing here; your body craved affection today.

Opening the breakroom door, Peter is leaning against the counter and stirring sugar into his coffee. His eyebrow raises when you enter; he's attempting to dissect why you're smiling at him and in such a good mood when nothing exciting is happening.

"Hello?" He chuckles. "You're chipper this morning." Peter drinks his coffee, waiting for you to tell him your reasons.

"Tomorrow is the day!" You playfully shimmy up to his side, rubbing your shoulder against his. "I finally get to leave!" Your bright smile nearly shatters the glass windows, and you don't plan to let anything ruin your day.

Smirking, he sets his coffee on the counter and loosely wraps his arm around your shoulder. "I'm happy for you." He lies. "But I'll miss you." He clears his throat to get rid of any emotions in his voice.

"What was that?" You childishly nuzzle your face toward the crook of his neck. "Can you say that a little bit louder? I don't think I heard you correctly." You taunt.

He drops his arm from around you and steps back from you, his eyes deadening when you ask him to repeat himself. He didn't want to admit he was having difficulty with you leaving. He knew, more than likely, he would die here and never see you again.

"Fine." You stick your tongue out at him. "I'll miss you too, though." Your hand rests on his should, and you give him a light squeeze. You didn't expect him to be upset you were leaving.

The breakroom door opens, showing Brenner standing with files in his hand. He glances up, seeing your hand resting on Peter's bicep. You quickly drop your arm to your side and look everywhere but him. "I need you in my office." he points at you, and before words come out of your mouth, he has left, closing the door loudly behind him.

You dramatically shiver and rub your hands down your arms. "My heart drops every time I see that man."

Peter couldn't imagine how you might feel if you saw who he used to be before Martin made it impossible for him to use his powers. Would you think he was a monster?

"I guess I should go."

Peter nods, "I'll find you later and help you pack. I'm glad one of us is getting out of here." He opens the door for you giving you one last smirk before you leave. "Don't sign anything you haven't read. Read everything." He warns you.

You stop in your tracks, "I don't know that I read the entire contract when I signed it." You look around the hallways, suddenly feeling nervous. "I tried to, but he rushed me, and I needed the job. You don't think I signed something I shouldn't have, do you?"

He shrugs, "Only one way to find out."

You dreaded the walk to Brenner's office; it wasn't where you often found yourself. You stop in front of his door and lightly knock. It takes him no more than ten seconds to fling the door open. He waves you in as he walks back to his desk; he drops your file on his desk. "You're scheduled to leave tomorrow."

You sit down in the empty chair across his desk. "Yes, sir."

"I'm afraid I can't allow that." His lips press together, and he pretends to be sorry, but deep down inside, he doesn't give a shit about your feelings. "We lost our nurse in D2, and I need you to take her place. I'm sure you know per the contract that I can change your release dates if something like this occurs."

You feel like he punched you in the stomach. Your mouth drops, and you feel your eyes sting but refuse to let him see you cry. You will not cry in front of the monster himself. "Oh," You swallow hard. "How long will you need me?" You bite the inside of your cheeks and tap your foot against the concrete floor. You needed to get the hell out of there.

"Until we find a replacement, and with how things are going, that could be a few weeks or months. It's hard to say." He leans back in his chair, "Now go on. I'm sure you have plenty of work to do."

Lazily you slide out of the chair with slumped shoulders and tear-filled eyes. You walk out the door. You jog down the hallway until you reach your room. When you enter, you see Peter sitting on your bed.

His eyes are soft while observing you, "Shit," He mutters; things didn't go how either of you expected. "Come sit." He pats the side of your bed, and you do as you're told.

"I thought I was going home." You snivel. "Now, I don't know when I'll see anyone." You lean your back against the wall and look up at the ceiling to blink your tears away, but the moment Peter wraps his arm around you and drags you to his chest, your tears are no longer hidden, and you let it all out.

He rubs your arm, attempting to soothe you. He figured something like this would happen; Martin Brenner didn't let anyone leave. The only way out was death.

"I'm so sorry." His cheek lays on the top of your head. "Get it all out." He coos. "When we go back out there, no more crying; you can't let him know he's winning." Peter gives you one last tight squeeze before pulling away from you. He runs his thumbs under your eyes and wipes the puddles from your skin. He brings his lips to your forehead and gently kisses your soft skin; he quietly speaks. "I'll get you out of here one way or another.”