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justfandomwritings · 2 years

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You'll See Why (Peter Ballard x Reader)

Pairing: Peter Ballard x Female!Reader, implied Steve x Reader (Does not really factor into the story)

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: mostly just fluff and angst that doesn't require a content warning. General content warnings consistent with Stranger Things

Summary: It couldn't be him. She refused to believe it. Eleven had to be wrong, had to have the wrong person. It wasn't that he wasn't capable of something like this; in the back of her mind, she knew he was. More, it was that she didn't want to face what it meant about herself.

Masterlist. Ko-Fi.

There was a familiar face staring blankly up at her from the page… she knew this face.

“Well, he looks evil,” Steve mused, looking at the drawing over her shoulder.

“He was 001… He was the first. They built the lab to contain him.” Eleven explained.

(Y/n) was holding up the sketch Eleven had drawn of the patient from Hawkins Lab, who Eleven knew as 001, that Nancy had discovered was Henry, that they all called Vecna.

(Y/n) knew that face.

“(Y/n)?” Dustin touched her shoulder. “(Y/n), are you okay?”

She heard her brother’s voice talking to her, and yet somehow she didn’t register it. He felt, he sounded, so far away.

It felt like an out of body experience, like her thoughts were no longer contained inside her brain, like they were swirling around her in a cloud, consuming her entire world. This was not Henry Creel, could not be Vecna. Eleven had to be wrong. She knew this face, and she knew it all too well.

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“Hi Peter, I see they let you out again. The usual?” (Y/n) smiled brightly.

Peter was her favorite regular at Benny’s, not that he was all that regular. He came in once every couple weeks or so. She assumed whenever the lab could spare him, though he always referred to it as a “reward” for good behavior. Benny’s menu was hardly “reward” worthy. It was decent. Benny was a good cook, but it was just regular diner food. She could think of four other diners in Hawkins that served the same fair, though Benny’s was certainly the closest to the ltab.

He wasn’t a particularly nice regular. He tipped very well, which she appreciated, but most regulars do or they wouldn’t be regulars anymore. Mostly, he was her favorite because he was an enigma. He worked for the Hawkins National Laboratory up the road, and he was very cagey about his work and himself.

“No coffee,” Peter amended without looking up from the papers in front of him.

(Y/n) scribbled haphazardly on the ticket and slid it across the window to put on deck for Benny. There were a couple tickets ahead of it, and that gave her extra time.

(Y/n) dragged the stool out from behind the register and plopped down directly in front of Peter, propping her elbows on the counter and looking at him expectantly.

Peter rolled his eyes but kept them trained on his work. This was (Y/n)’s usual routine any time Peter came into the diner, so he didn’t need to look up to know she was staring him down.

“Must you watch your customers so intently? I feel like a subject in the lab.”

“Only the interesting ones,” (Y/n) dismissed. “Now tell me; how’s the lab?”

Peter flipped over one of the pages mindlessly. He hadn’t processed all the words, but that clearly wasn’t going to happen if (Y/n) had anything to say about it. He kept up the appearance of reading though to hold her interrogations to a minimal. “It is in its usual state. I am nothing but a humble nurse for the children being experimented upon and tortured within its walls.”

(Y/n) rolled her eyes. It wasn’t the kind of joke she would have made, but she let it slide. “Yes, of course, but how is your work?”

“Why would you care to know?” Peter dismissed the question.

“Because I’m bored, and like my brother always says life is a curiosity voyage.”

Peter rolled his eyes, “Your brother sounds foolish.”

“Hey,” (Y/n) reached up and smacked Peter lightly on the side of the head, causing him to jolt. He stared at her in utter disbelief, as if no one had ever touched him before in his life, which she found very hard to believe. He was far too high and mighty, full of himself, not to have been bullied as a kid. “That’s my brother. Only I get to mess with him.”

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Nonresponsive and zoned out was not a good thing to be in Hawkins, Indiana in 1986.

“She’s infected with Vecna!” Dustin began to panic, “Quick someone get my headphones from the desk,” Dustin pointed to the desk behind Max, who practically threw the headphones in her rush to get them to Steve as Dustin ran to the small shelf and began digging through Mike’s cassette tapes.

“No, no,” (Y/n) shook aside the memory as quickly as she could manage. “Dustin,” she called to her brother, “Really, I’m fine!”

“Like hell you are,” behind her, Steve forced the plastic strap of the headphones around her neck. “Seriously? How hard is it to find Pat Benatar!” Steve shouted.

“Again, I’m fine,” (Y/n) rolled her eyes, wrenching the headphones off.

They couldn’t afford to waste a pair on her now. She could feel things coming to a head. Over the last 24 hours, virtually all of them had had to procure a pair of headphones and wrap them around their necks. Only Steve, Dustin, Eleven, and herself hadn’t heard the ticking of a clock at some point yet. A low drone of noise was filling the room as songs played from the necks of the other occupants.

“Really!” She insisted to the skeptical crowd of teens staring her down, “no ticking. I was just…” In addressing the room, her eyes found Eleven’s, “remembering something.”

Eleven’s eyes seemed to see right through her, and (Y/n) hesitated for a moment, wavering in whether revealing this information was a good idea or not. Everyone else in the room was staring at her, eyes darting now and again to Eleven.

It was too late to back out now. She took a breath and, watching Eleven’s face intently for her reaction, said the name.

“Peter Ballard.”

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“Hi again Peter, I’ll put the usual on for you.” (Y/n) greeted him with a wave as he came through the door.

This time, when Peter walked in, Benny’s was empty except for herself and Benny. He had his usual folder full of papers tucked under his arm, stamped with the fancy Hawkins Lab’s seal on the cover declaring it was privileged information.

“Thank you,” Peter took up his usual counter seat.

He had a way of being both extraordinarily polite and also incredibly rude at the same time. It was like he had spent his entire life being lectured on manners without actually having a single social interaction in which to use them.

“Benny!” (Y/n) called loudly over the order window, “Peter’s usual!”

Benny was somewhere in the back. With the diner being empty, Benny had ducked out to rearrange the stock while he left (Y/n) to mind the front. “Give me just a minute!” She heard her boss shout back.

“So!” (Y/n) whipped around, leaning back against the order window, “Gonna tell me how work was today?”

“Tiresome.” Peter clipped.

(Y/n) raised an eyebrow, “That’s about as descriptive as you’ve ever been. Was it coworkers or your human test subjects?” She said the last part teasingly.

Peter paused for a moment, still not looking up from his papers, but he seemed to consider her question longer than he usually would before dismissing her. “Boss.” Having answered, Peter immediately went back to flipping through pages, only adding under his breath, “Not that I would call him that, persay. He’s more like my worst nightmare.”

(Y/n) chuckled and approached, taking up her usual seat across from him. “Tell me about it. Last week, Benny didn’t let me off early on Friday even though it was my mom’s birthday, so my little brother recruited his friends to try to bake her birthday cake instead of waiting for me and almost lit my house on fire.”

The word fire seemed to catch Peter’s attention. He still didn’t give her the time of day or meet her eyes, still seemed to think that she was too beneath him for that, but his head did cock to one side. He was listening.

“What’s so nightmarish about your boss?”

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“What do you mean you ‘know’ Vecna?” Dustin demanded.

“He came into Benny’s from time to time,” (Y/n) felt like she was retreating into her skin. Eleven, Mike, Eddie, Max, the whole room. They were all watching her with dark eyes, watching her like they were watching the enemy.

Dustin was staring at her in utter shock. He didn’t notice the looks from his friends or the fear in her eyes. He was still trying to comprehend this massive piece of information.

Only Steve’s hand, resting with a firm grip on her shoulder, was keeping her grounded in the room, keeping her from bolting out the door like a frightened deer.

“And you talked to him? You knew him?” Max joined the questioning, her tone far closer to interrogation than Dustin’s disbelieving one.

(Y/n) shrugged defensively, “Lots of people from the labs came in. We were the closest restaurant. He said he was a nurse. I didn’t know he was the literal devil.”

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“Your boss sounds like a dick, no offense.”

“None taken.” Peter had talked to her. He had actually talked to her. Granted, they were complaining about their bosses, which was the oldest and most basic form of bonding in the book, but still. It was something. “He is.”

“Well,” (Y/n) hopped down from the seat she had taken on the counter while he recounted his tale of woe. “I’m gonna start cleaning up if it’s all the same to you.”

Peter waved his hand down the length of the counter and immediately reverted his eyes back to his papers that were off to the side of the plate he was presently eating off of.

(Y/n) smirked to herself as she pulled out her rag. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. She’d be damned if she wasn’t going to keep poking at him till she got the answers she wanted.

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It was Nancy who turned the whole scene into a proper interrogation. Though, perhaps given her profession, it was more of an interview. She waved the kids away from the seat in front of (Y/n) and took up a spot front and center in her vision.

“Tell us everything you know about him. Start from the beginning.”

(Y/n) took a breath and recited the facts as coldly and emotionlessly as she could manage. “His name was Peter Ballard. He came into the diner once every couple weeks. Everyone else from the lab came in groups, but he…” Her voice cracked for a moment, and she hoped everyone else in the room saw it as nothing more than the nerves it was, “He was always alone. He barely talked to me. The others said he was a nurse, and that he never talked to anyone in the lab either. He always brought files with him to read. It took months for him to even bother making eye contact with me.”

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“You never went to a proper high school?”

“No,” Peter droned. He still acted thoroughly unamused with her presence, but he had started more readily answering her questions.

(Y/n) huffed and leaned back on her stool, tilting away from him. “Well, that explains so much.”

Peter’s eyes shot up from his paper, and for the first time he met her gaze. Not exactly an angry expression, but at the least a doubtful one, colored his face as his eyebrows drew together. “How?”

“Well,” she let the legs of her stool fall back on the floor with a crash as she leaned forward towards Peter, “Sure, you didn’t have to deal with assholes on the basketball team shoving you into lockers, or girls on the cheer squad making fun of your clothes. But you also never found a group of friends with the same niche interest as you, or a guy to bond with over your mutual hatred of some bully, or a cute girl who thought you were the cutest thing since God invented puppies.”

Peter’s eyes narrowed.

“No, I’m serious,” (Y/n) immediately dismissed his expression. “Sure, there are giant swathes of humanity that are the absolute worst, but there are some humans who are really great when you give them the chance. And you,” she poked a finger into his chest, “never did. You were aware that some people sucked, but you didn’t hang around long enough to find the ones that didn’t before you decided to write all of us off as intolerable.”

Peter pursed his lips and turned back to his files. He wasn’t going to continue this line of conversation.

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“That’s really all I know, Nancy. I swear.” (Y/n) huffed.

“There has to be something though!” Nancy jumped up from her seat and began to pace, “It can’t be a coincidence that you knew him. Can it?”

“I didn’t know him,” She emphasized. “We didn’t exactly bare our souls to each other and get matching tattoos. We were friendly. He came in every couple weeks, ordered the same thing. Towards the end he started making small talk, but that was it. Small talk. He didn’t exactly spell out for me that he had dreams of becoming a mass murderer.”

“Yeah, but what are the odds that you would get wrapped up in all of this?” Jonathan pointed out. “It sounds like you’re the only person he talked to outside of the lab.”

“Pretty freakin’ high, Jonathan,” (Y/n) huffed. “If you haven’t noticed, Hawkins isn’t a metropolis. It’s a pretty small town, and weird shit keeps happening. We’re all wrapped up in it at this point.”

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(Y/n) froze, staring at Peter as he approached his usual seat at the counter. She’d clocked him instantly when he walked in, and instantly had known something was very off.

He looked more or less the same, all white outfit, holier than thou expression. His hair was in its usual blonde waves, and he seemed more or less as agitated with his own existence as he usually did.

“H-Hey Peter, Usual?” (Y/n) asked.

“Yes, please,” Peter replied.

And in that moment she realized it. That moment when he sat there, still looking up at her expectantly, waiting for her to put his order in. That moment when he didn’t look down.

No files.

(Y/n) rushed the order in to Benny and whirled back around to join Peter. There were a handful of other people in the diner, but they were all regulars who’d already gotten their food and knew their way around. She was completely unbothered with doing her rounds to their tables.

“Why no files?”

Peter raised an eyebrow, “Aren’t you the one who’s always bugging me to talk to you?”

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“He’s not here,” Dustin dropped the flashlight back to his side with a huff.

They had gone to the Creel house again, hoping to find where in the Upside Down Vecna was. Now that they had Eleven, with her powers back no less, they wanted to lure him to a place they could face off against him.

“(Y/n),” Lucas called over the bannister from the second floor. “Did Vecna ever mention anywhere else he liked to go? Or somewhere else in Hawkins he felt connected to?”

“No!” (Y/n) shouted back with a huff, “If he’s not here he must be at the lab!”

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“So?” (Y/n) smiled, “Thoughts?”

“It’s… cold.” Peter mused.

(Y/n) huffed and pulled back from where she was leaning on the counter. “That’s it? It’s cold? I thought you were going to actually help me? You know, useful feedback?”

Peter slowly pushed the mostly-full milkshake away from his plate. “I never agreed to help you. You only assumed I would when I came in.”

“Yeah! For a free milkshake!” (Y/n) threw her hands up, utterly exasperated with him, “You have to have more thoughts than ‘it’s cold’. I’m making Benny put milkshakes on the menu, and it’s my ass on the line if they aren’t good.”

“It’s sweet.” Peter added, picking up another fry and taking a bite.

“Ooooh! Thank you so much! That’s so much more helpful.” She bit back sarcastically.

Rolling her eyes, (Y/n) snatched the milkshake away, slurping through Peter’s abandoned straw. She made a face, “Oh, ok… that is sweet.”

Peter didn’t meet her eyes, but he waved his hand and made a face that very much said ‘told-you-so’.

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It didn’t look like anyone had been in the lab since Eleven closed the portal. The bodies had been cleaned up, no doubt by the military coverup team, but the broken glass in the screened in room surrounding the old portal was still strewn about the floor. Hopper’s gun Bob had left in the control room was still on the desk. There were even still spatters of blood every few feet along the walls and stains from dried up blood on the floors.

“So,” Robin murmured quietly to (Y/n), “This is what Round 2 looked like? Man I am so glad I just had the Russians.”

“It doesn’t look like he’s here either. Doesn’t even look like he’s been here at all. There’s no portal,” Will assessed, turning back to the room.

“Fuck!” Mike turned, kicking a wall. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”

He wasn’t at his old home. He wasn’t at the lab. He wasn’t at any of the places he’d opened portals that they knew about. (Y/n) was at a loss. There wasn’t anywhere else to look.

He must be hiding, hiding somewhere completely random with absolutely no connection to him. It was the logical thing to do if he didn’t want to be found, but it just didn’t make sense. Sure, Eleven said 001 was a creature completely void of any emotion, set to the singular purpose of restoring order to the world by ridding it of humanity.

But (Y/n) knew that wasn’t true. Hell, the Party should’ve known that wasn’t true. 001 had slaughtered an entire lab in an instant he was so blinded by rage, not even giving them the option to join them that he’d given Eleven. When he became Vecna and was sent to the Upside Down, the first place they knew he’d gone was home. Max had seen the disassembled pieces of the Creel house in Vecna’s inner hideout in the Upside Down. And Henry had talked to Nancy about her visit to his father, about how he’d vengefully plotted his demise.

Even the Peter (Y/n) knew was riddled with emotions, most of them negative, but still they were there. Even when he was putting on a neutral face, she always knew he detested humanity. He hated his job. He…

He’d teased her about her milkshakes, about how much she talked, about high school, about her brother. He’d…

(Y/n) bolted for the door. “Steve, get the keys! I know where he went!” She shouted.

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“So why don’t you ever sit with them?” (Y/n) asked, nodding with her chin over Peter’s shoulder to the lab coats at the table behind him.

They weren’t literally wearing lab coats, but in her mind everyone who worked in a lab was supposed to be wearing a coat. So that’s what she called them. In actuality, they were all dressed almost exactly the same as Peter.

“I mean, I know you hate them, but even you have to get lonely sometimes.”

Peter picked up another fry and put it in his mouth, avoiding her question.

“There must be someone tolerable enough to eat lunch with.”

“I eat with you.” Peter told her, “Do I need someone else?”

(Y/n) felt her cheeks turn a little bit pink, and she tried to swallow it down. “Well no, but you must have friends. Someone at the lab? Or someone from when you were a kid? I know you were homeschooled, but still. Everyone needs friends.”

Peter snorted, and (Y/n) wasn’t sure if it was at the idea of him needing someone or at the idea of having a friend. “Well, I regret to inform you that I just have you.”

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There was a portal, up against the wall of the diner, behind the counter right where she used to sit when she would talk to Peter.

“Dead on, (Y/n).” Steve patted her shoulder, joking, “He must’ve really liked the eggs.”

Grilled chicken with a side of fries and a coffee. Always the same food; didn’t matter what meal it was. (Y/n) didn’t bother to voice that though.

“It’s one of the basketball players,” Dustin pointed out.

A pair of broken, twisted out of shape, legs were sticking out from behind one of the couches the kids had dragged into Benny’s after it was deserted.

“It’s bigger…” Eleven murmured, taking a step forward towards the portal.

Mike caught her arm, pulling her back away from the portal.

(Y/n) didn’t join in, the banter or the analysis. She was staring at the portal.

It was right where she used to sit, literally right there. If Peter had been there, and she’d been in her usual spot talking to him, all she would’ve had to do was tip her stool back, like she always did, and she would’ve fallen straight into the Upside Down.

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“You’re gonna fall over if you keep doing that,” Peter pointed down to the legs of her stool.

(Y/n) rolled her eyes and continued to totter back and forth on the back legs of the stool. “Then I’ll knock my head in and get off work early, and you won’t have to put up with me. Sounds like a win for both of us.”

The front legs of the stool slammed to the ground, and (Y/n) stared wide-eyed, mouth ajar, at Peter.

Peter’s eyes had a fire to them she had never seen. There was something there, something behind his usual disinterested, annoyed expression. Something dangerous.

He had a vice-like grip on her wrist, and (Y/n) was positive that she was going to have a ringed bruise around the bone there in the morning from how tightly he held her and how hard he’d jerked her back forward. Her arm was stretched out across the width of the counter, practically touching his chest he’d jerked her so far back.

The shock in her face seemed to douse the fire in his. “Sorry,” Peter cleared his throat, dropping her wrist.

“N-No, it’s okay.” (Y/n) dismissed haphazardly. “Didn’t realize I was worrying you.”

Under his breath, so quietly she wasn’t quite sure she heard him right, Peter whispered, “Of course you worry me.”

“What was that?” (Y/n) asked.

“Nothing, just don’t want you dead on the floor. The hassle of finding another friend is unappealing.”

“Well,” (Y/n) smiled, though not as brightly this time as she usually did, “you can’t get rid of me that easy.”

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Vecna.

A grey body, void of skin and hair and a face. Vine-like Tentacles protruding from his back, whipping back and forth in all directions as if they had a mind of their own, encircling the party, drawing them tighter and tighter into him.

She knew what Eleven told her, knew the story of how Vecna had come to be, but she just couldn’t believe it. She couldn’t see Peter under there, inside the monster.

She couldn’t see Peter batting away Eleven with a vine, without a care in the world for her scream as she went flying back into a deadened tree.

Not Peter, not her Peter.

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“I’m sorry.”

(Y/n) looked up, startled. She hadn’t heard anyone come in. She’d been too absorbed in the math homework splayed across Benny’s counter to notice anything other than the mental image she’d been constructing of going to watch all of her friends graduate knowing she was going to have to repeat senior year.

“Oh Peter, I didn’t hear you come in. Usual?”

Peter sat down in front of her, which was not in his usual seat. “No, I only… I came here to talk, to apologize, and say goodbye.”

“Wait you’re leaving?” (Y/n) dropped the pencil from her hand. “Are they moving you out of the lab? What’s going on?”

“There’s been a… development. And soon my services will no longer be required.” Peter caught the pencil (Y/n) hadn’t heard rolling across the counter and carefully balanced it back in place in front of her textbook.

“W-Well, where are you going?” She tried, and failed miserably, to hide the disappointment from her tone, “I’m sure they have phones there. I’d hate to leave you with no one to pester you every week.”

“I can’t tell you.” Peter smiled, actually smiled. (Y/n) didn’t know if it was unnerving or endearing. It was the first time she’d ever seen him smile. She got the occasional snear, once in a while a smirk if she was particularly amusing that day. But he never smiled, certainly not like this, sad, disheartened, like he was sorry he had to go. “That’s why I came. I know I scared you last time I was here. I… I showed too much of myself, and for that I’m sorry.”

“Peter, you don’t have to apologize.” (Y/n) reached out, hesitantly and took his hand. “Not for being yourself at least.”

“Oh but I do.” Peter dismissed. Turning his hand over, Peter took hers in his and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Maybe one day you’ll see why.”

And as easily as he slipped into her life, he was gone.

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“Eddie,” She whispered from their hiding place behind the rock, “whatever happens, can you promise me something?”

“What?” Eddie whispered back to her.

(Y/n) hesitated for a moment before she peeled herself away from the rocker’s side. “Hold Steve back.” Turning to Jonathan on her other side, she patted his arm. “And don’t let him and Dustin do anything stupid while I’m gone.”

(Y/n) was usually an anxious, hesitant person. She was an extrovert to the extreme, but she was also very risk averse. She was the type of girl who walked with her eyes on her own feet, and her arms brought in across her chest at all times. She didn’t exude surety or confidence ever. The three words her friends would use to describe her were skittish, excitable, and self-conscious. With Dart, Dustin had taken the lead trapping the monster in the cellar. In the Byer’s home, she had cowered behind Steve, from the demodogs and from Billy. In Starcourt, her brother had practically dragged her down to the Russian base. She had been the one driving the distraction car, all too happy to put distance between herself, Dustin, and Steve and the Mindflayer.

She was not fearless like Nancy or powerful like Eleven or a natural leader like Steve. In the face of monsters and spies and alternate dimensions, she was scared, like any normal person would be.

But this, she’d convinced herself, wasn’t a monster from an alternate dimension. A monster, maybe, but one she knew.

“(Y/n), what are you doing?” Jonathan tried to grab at her arm, but she moved faster, ducking out of the way as she came running out from behind the rock.

Vecna was baring down on Eleven, standing in front of Lucas, Mike, and Dustin with her arms wide as she tried to push him back.

“(Y/n)!” The shout came from somewhere behind her, but she didn’t look back at Steve as she heard him running after her.

“PETER!” She came to a stop under him and shouted up into the air, at the body in the center of the mass of tentacles.

His head turned, slowly, towards her. “Peter, come down here!”

“(Y/n),” he said, seemingly to himself.

She should’ve been afraid, quaking in her boots afraid. But for once, she just couldn’t seem to manage it.

Somewhere in the distance she could hear Steve shouting, shouting at her, at Vecna, at Jonathan and Eddie for holding him back.

“Peter!” She called again.

The tentacles seemed to whip back and forth through the air, splaying themselves out flat on the ground and slowly encircling where she stood, as they lowered their master to the ground.

“NO!” Dustin tried to jump, but without instruction needed Lucas and Mike grabbed him and held him back.

“Peter, you don’t have to do this.”

“Peter is dead. Your friend,” he spat the word, “saw to that.”

“I know she put you here, but I don’t think Peter’s gone.” A tentacle slithered at the back of her heels, and (Y/n) took a step closer to Peter.

“You always had such idealistic notions.” He snarled, “This is what I am. Not Peter, this.” Two of the tentacles whipped out from the circle they had formed around (Y/n), and latched onto her wrists, wrenching her down to her knees.

(Y/n) shook her head, “I don’t believe that.”

The tentacles tightened around her wrist, and she bit back a whimper in disgust as they began wrapping themselves slowly up her arms.

“Society is a scourge (Y/n). The real curse is not me; it’s humanity.” Peter began walking towards her, the tentacles around her dragging her to meet him.

“Then why haven’t you cursed me? Killed me?” (Y/n) asked, “Everyone else has heard the clock ticking, Peter. But here I am.”

The tentacles were wrapping around her chest now, gluing her arms to her sides. Peter, Vecna, did not respond. He stood directly above her now, her bound defenseless at his feet.

“If Peter was dead then you wouldn’t be listening to me right now.”

One of the tentacles wrapped itself around her throat, but she didn’t feel it constricting her at all. It was like it didn’t know what to do.

“Let them go, Peter. They’re just kids. Scared, little kids like Henry used to be.”

Steve was still shouting and struggling with Jonathan and Eddie, and in her peripheral, it seemed Eleven had joined the boys in holding back Dustin.

“I’ll stay.” She whispered loud enough for only Peter to hear. “We’re friends right? I’ll stay here, with you. But you have to let them go. Leave them alone, leave Hawkins alone.”

Peter blinked. “You wouldn’t leave your brother.”

He sounded like Peter, the dark, raspy voice of Vecna was gone. He sounded young again; he sounded whole.

“I’ll leave him to protect him. Peter, you live in this place free of people and the society you hated, and it’s still not enough. You never wanted to be alone.” The grip the tentacles had on her was loosening, and (Y/n) tried to stand. The tentacles melted away as Peter saw what she wanted to do. “I’ll stay here, with you. You won’t be alone… But you have to let them go.”

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“NO!” Dustin shoved forward and began pounding on the wall where to portal used to be. “No!”

His fingers tried digging into the wallpaper, into the wall. It had to be there; it couldn’t be gone. He could get back to her. They could save her.

The rest of the party watched in utter silence as Dustin scratched and clawed at the wall, trying to open the portal back to his sister.

No one tried to stop him, or intervene. They were all too stunned to speak, too stunned to move.

The only noise in the room was Dustin, screaming in despair at the wall, and Steve, quietly sobbing in the corner.

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Note:

Thanks for reading! If you like this, please go read my Eddie Munson fic. I'd really appreciate it! I think it's even better than this one, and it meant a lot to me writing it. I look forward to knowing what you think!

#peter ballard #peter ballard x y/n #peter ballard x reader #vecna x reader #henry creel x reader #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x reader #peter ballard x you #peter ballard fluff #peter ballard angst #peter ballard fanfiction #peter ballard fanfic #vecna fanfiction #henry creel fanfiction #stranger things x you #steve harrington x reader #st4

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honeybadgerwritings · 2 years

Text

Don’t Worry Your Pretty Little Head

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

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

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

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

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

Prompts:

8. “Suck on my fingers baby.”

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

29. “Your thighs are shaking so much.”

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

⚠️ This fic is 18+ so minors DNI ⚠️

———————

You aren’t supposed to be here.

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

Because your boss physically will not let you leave.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, wait.

“Sorry, what’d you say?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Except he does.

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

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

Goddammit.

“Stop it.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Peter…”

You fucking whimper it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jesus fucking Christ.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good fucking girl.”

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

“O-oh Peter…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Peter

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

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

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

You’re far gone – so far gone.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh- oh fuck I-I’m gonna cum…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

———

Requested by: @hbaramas

2K notes · View notes

petersprincesss · 2 years

Text

We Don’t Talk That Way

Me again, hello!

This was requested by both @effrvcfcr and @cassiopeiagalaxies-blog on my One Shots of Peter Ballard post. You can find it and make a request here, or just send me a message!

I am writing all requests, but pls give me time :)

Genre: Smut. So filthy.

Rating: Explicit as fuck. Minors DNI

Tags: praise and degradation, spanking, punishment, fingering, fem reader, pain play ig?

(I recognize that test subjects in the lab do not have hair. I did not consider this until after it was written and I have decided that I don’t care. If that bothers you, please let me know here)

(Proof reading is for dorks)

“God, I’m fucking starving,” you mumbled to yourself, standing up from your seated position in the rainbow room. Dinner wasn’t for another forty five minutes, and you were expected to spend that time enjoying yourself, or at least keeping yourself entertained.

“‘Scuse me,” you spoke as you approached Peter, your favorite orderly, standing diligently by the double doors that led into the hallway, “I’m fucking hungry, can I get a snack or something?”

“Hey, language,” Peter responded, his voice hushed, but firm.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m sorry. Anyways, food?” You snapped your fingers as you spoke, trying to speed things along.

Peter had always favored you a little more than the others. After all, you were closest in age to him out of everyone in the building. You were a few years older than most of the other test subjects in the lab, and he was considerably younger than Dr. Brenner or anyone else with authority. It helped that you were also exactly his type.

“Alright, but we’re gonna have to be careful, okay? Let’s see if the nurse has some graham crackers or something,” Peter sighed. He turned around and pushed the heavy off-white door open, allowing you to train behind him.

“Hand,” he demanded, reaching his open palm out to you.

“Seriously?” You scoffed, “I’m nineteen, give me a break.”

“Rules are rules, do you want a snack or not?”

“Fine,” you huffed, smacking your palm into his.

Peter led you down the hallway next to him. He swung your hand back and forth in stride, and for an unconscious moment, you felt as though you were holding the hand of a lover. Peter’s docile grasp felt like how you’d imagine walking home after a long day during a sunset must feel. You kept your eyesight away from his, praying he wouldn’t notice your heart rate steadily escalating just from having physical contact with him.

“You know, what I’d really like to do is feed Dr. Brenner a fucking knuckle sandwhich,” you muttered, cautiously affirming that no one else was around to hear your crude remarks.

“What did you just say?” Peter asked, stopping dead in his tracks and turning to face you.

“What? I’m just saying, the dude’s a total dickface,” you mumbled, lessening your voice even further.

“Hey, look at me,” Peter snapped, dropping your hand and grasping your chin so you were forced to face him.

His ocean blue eyes dove into yours, and your stomach dropped at the intense eye contact. A switch flipped inside you, and suddenly you felt a hunger for more than just food.

“We don’t talk that way, understand?”

“Yeah, you certainly don’t. At least not when you’re on Dr. Brenner’s leash” you mocked, jerking your chin away from his grip.

Peter inhaled deeply before snatching your wrist, dragging you down the hallway, “Come with me, we’ve got to do something about that attitude.”

“Peter, hey, relax, I was just joking,” you panicked as he approached the door to your living quarters and jerked the handle, yanking you inside behind him.

Once inside, Peter slammed the door behind you and pushed you up against it, holding you pitilessly in place with his hands on your biceps. His face drew in so close to yours that you could feel the air leaving his nose traveling down your neck, cascading onto your chest.

“Did I fucking stutter? We don’t talk that way,” Peter snarled, glaring at you from beneath his knotted eyebrows.

“I- I’m sorry,” you choked out, surprised not only to see him so furious, but to find that it aroused you.

“Are you?” Peter asked deviously.

“Yes, yes I really am!” You pleaded, the tone of your voice bordering dangerously close on lustful moaning.

“I don’t think you are. I think girls like you need to be punished in order for your behavior to change,” Peter grinned at you, expecting you to buckle beneath his expression.

“And how are you going to do that, Mr. Ballard?” You spoke defiantly, turning your nose up at him to challenge his pretentious ego.

Peter smiled at you, any trace of that comforting orderly he masqueraded as fully removed, perhaps discarded as soon as he stepped inside your corridor. He slid away from you, dragging his fingers down your arms tauntingly as he turned around and pulled out a chair tucked into the solitary desk across from your bed. He unclasped his belt as he stared into you, daring you to look away. It became a struggle not to stare as he whipped his belt away from his body and tightened his grip on the buckle and opposite end so that it formed a menacing loop.

Without breaking eye contact, Peter sat down in the chair and motioned you to him with a wave of his hand and a single word, “Come.”

You obeyed him, sauntering over to where he was seated, feeling a heartbeat form between your legs that was pleading for his attention. Once you stood before him, he reached up and snatched a fistfull of your hair, tugging your body down so you were bent over his knee. Your breath hitched as he reached back and grabbed the hem of your hospital gown and began trailing it upwards at a glacial pace.

“You know, Y/N,” Peter thought aloud, “you could be such a good test subject if you only listened.”

His words alone sent electricity up your spine, flowing through your body beneath his touch.

“I’ll listen, I promise,” you whined, your breath catching as you felt the gown slip fully over your hips, leaving you fully exposed to him.

“Save your promises, sweetheart. This is going to hurt.”

Without letting a second slip by, Peter raised his belt and smacked it down on your bare flesh, forcing an unexpected yelp to escape your lips.

“Quiet now. We wouldn’t want anyone else to know what a bad girl you’ve been, would we?” Peter quizzed. Your mind raced to find an answer, but the only thing it came up with was the stinging sensation emanating from the impact and the heat you felt growing not far beneath it.

“Fuck…” you exhaled hoarsly, your breath practically stolen from your lungs.

Peter’s hand twisted itself in your hair and yanked it backwards.

“Language,” he scolded.

“I’m s- sorry. Please,” you began to plead, unsure of what exactly you were even begging for.

“Please what, Y/N?”

Before you could even answer, Peter laid down another swing, his belt cracking as it met your skin. You let out another moan in response, far from a cry for a resolution. With each blow he delivered, your body began whorishly anticipating the next.

“Peter, I-”

He interrupted you again with another smack, clearly not interested in anything you felt the need to express to him.

“Awh, I’m sorry sweetheart. Is the belt too much for you?” He chastised. Peter’s belt dropped to the floor, his buckle clattering to the tile with a metallic clink.

Before you could begin to whimper, Peter smacked you with his bare hand, just low enough that he made a pleasant discovery.

“God… you’re soaked,” Peter remarked, examining his fingertips.

An erotic shame rose in your abdomen and crept out of your mouth with a wanton moan. You squirmed beneath his fingers grazing over your skin, but he reaffirmed his clench on your hair, governing you back under his control.

“Why are you so wet, huh?” Peter asked, his fingers circling around where you needed him most, tracing invisible drawings on your flesh.

“God, Peter, it feels so good, please,” you begged, praying he wouldn’t make you admit your desires aloud.

“Please what? Say it,” he shattered your hopes.

“Please touch me!” You demanded, squeezing your eyes closed with a rigidity that pinched tears out from beneath your lashes.

“This is what you want?” Peter asked, two of his fingers pressing gently against your opening, just shy of how badly you needed him to push.

“Yes, please!” you whined, your hips jolting back into his palm.

“You’re fucking dirtier than I thought,” Peter sighed, sliding into you. You groaned salaciously, your body’s electricity thundering under his manipulation.

Peter reached across your back for your arm, dangling near his feet. He pulled your forearm up and pinned it behind your back, halting you from wiggling away from him. Your opposite arm reached down to the tiled floor, your palm resting on the cool, smooth surface to ground you. Peter plunged in and out of you, setting a pace designed to push you over the edge that was rapidly drawing nearer.

“Thank you, Peter,” you huffed, unsure of what else to say. Gratitude seemed to be the only emotion worth expressing to him.

“What are you thanking me for, slut?” Peter mocked you tonelessly, his momentum never wavering.

“Th- thank you for punishing me,” you managed to squeak out. Your eyes rolled back in your head as if you were incapable of speaking and keeping your eyes open at the same time.

“I knew you’d like being punished,” Peter taunted you, “I can feel you tightening up on me, are you going to cum on my fingers, you whore?”

“Oh God, yes, Peter please!” You whimpered, feeling a wave rise between your legs, drawing the air out of your lungs.

Peter abruptly removed his fingers from you and smacked your exposed flesh again, denying you the release your body so feverishly craved.

“I don’t think so,” he growled. Peter yanked your hair sternly, pulling you up to a seated position on his lap.

Peter’s face lined up next to yours, his lips grazing your ear through your messy strands of hair, “You can cum when you learn to behave.”

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usetheeauthor · 2 years

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The Nightmare on Hawkins Street +18 (Request)

Dom!Vecna x Dark!Virgin!Fem!Reader

A/N: Hey this is a request I took from a friend who loves the idea of Vecna as I do so I decided to write this. I made Vecna a kind of hybrid of Peter and Vecna so that it’s still has that monsterfucking aspect along with some human properties as i do not know Vecna’s full anatomy (also i just love jaime’s face)☺️ This will be like a diary entries of an anthropologist who slowly descends into a path of darkness.The diary will be first person but after it’ll be second point of view. Also I use the words “vines” and “tentacles interchangeably. Part 2

Summary: Banished to the world that has now became “The Upside Down”, Peter/Vecna marks his first victim an anthropologist with morbid curiosity. But when she shares his same philosophy, he finds himself wanting her by his side.

Word Count: 2.9k+

Warnings: mention of murder(s), morally ambiguous reader, loss of virginity, blood kink, use of tentacles (sexual), anal sex, choking, pain kink, spanking, vaginal penetration, corruption kink, spit as lube, degradation kink, doggystyle, drooling, tummy bulge, breeding kink, creampie, uses of names like “sir”, “master”, “king”, cum eating

June 16, 1983

Dear Diary,

I’ve seen him again today. Vecna. That’s what I call the monster that haunts my dreams. I’d accidentally fallen asleep from exhaustion for a split second and next thing I knew I was back in his lair. Whenever I’d close my eyes, he’d be behind them. Waiting. I’ve fought to stay awake ever since. He’s threatened to show me my “true nature” or so he puts it. Somehow knowing my true self scares me. I know I’m not like other my age. I’ve always had a fascination for things that are strange which only increased the moment I saw him.

Vecna looks pained. Like someone’s hurt him in the past. I found myself wanting to know who could have hurt monster like him. Yet from what I understood he was once man. A man who had his on motivations and his own ideals that were slowly ripped from him and banished from human society. Now he was a former shell of himself. Part man, part other worldly being seeking revenge and power. It’s like I could feel his every emotion. Like I know his story. I dare say that I sympathize with the entity.

June 20, 1983

Dear Diary,

I’d managed to close my eyes again. I don’t fear being dragged into his reality. I’ve embrace it. I’m still alive. I assume there must be some reason why he wants me alive. Maybe I could find him. Any chance I’d get to be in his world, I would commit every detail of the strange dimension, The Upside Down, to memory. I’d draw the details and displayed them on my wall. I’d stay up late nights going down a rabbit hole researching and looking into random experiments done in Hawkins hoping it’d mean I’d find him soon. I think he’s finally taken ahold of my mind. I welcome him.

June 30, 1983

Dear Diary,

Strange things are frequently happening in Hawkins. Murders, people disappearing, sightings of cryptid creatures. I know it’s him. He’s getting powerful. I could feel him getting powerful. It…excited me. I’ve never been so interested in learning about a person’s life the way I do now. To think that a human could be so powerful? Would be considered human at all since he’d been born with these gifts? I’d like to think that he could feel me, too. That he understood my devotion to him. That I’d only ran away and kept myself from sleeping because I was scared to know who I really am. But he’s shown me that gradually over time.

None of the research I’ve done in university could ever match what his existence. I want to know him now more than anything.

July 1, 1983

There it was in front of you. A gate to The Upside Down beckoning you to enter. It’s a hidden hole in a tree surrounded by a wet sac. You enter not even thinking of the consequences. This will be the first time you’ll get to see him physically so consequences be damned. You break through the slimy barrier. The cold wetness of the unidentifiable substance coating you and your scantily clad red dress.

Once you made it through, an immediate chill goes down your spine. You know he’s close. You explore the grounds, taking note of every sight. It looked just like your worlds except dark. You speculated that through this shadow world this was how he accessed his victims.

You walked through the streets searching for the street where your home lies. Not surprisingly, your home was in fact there. You walked through the doors. The atmosphere eerily still. Looking around, it’s like nothing changed. You notice a light under the door frame of your room upstairs. It grew bright. Tiptoeing up the steps, the floorboards creek underneath your bare feet. Your heart racing.

Once you’ve reached the room, you lower yourself down attempting to look under the door frame. No movement, just blinding light. You stand up, grip the knob, take a breath, and then slowly turn it. The light flickers as you walk through the room.

You notice your diary rested on your bed. You pick it up, flipping through it’s pages. It’s all of the entries you’ve written since the beginning of his mark on you. It’s practically duplicate.

Suddenly, the air shifts and you were sure you were alone anymore. Wet, heavy footsteps thumped against the floorboards. You don’t dare to turn to look. Even as the slick appendage wrapped around your neck, you remained still. You hear his rumbling growl.

“Y/N.” He says, turning you slowly to look at him. His voice, an overlay of a growling beast mix with a hint of his original innocent voice. His facial features part man, part creature. You could tell he was handsome with enticing lips and bright blue eyes. The other part of him was of this strange world. Dark, wrinkled wet skin almost reptilian and flesh in texture. He donned white clothes that had been torn and darkenedfrom what appeared to look as if he were struck by lightning. Several tentacles extended out and around him like extra limbs. Both sides of him were gorgeous and you could feel yourself weak at the knees at this discovery.

“My king.” You moaned.

He looked as if he was psychoanalyzing you in his head, trying to pick you apart. Were you here to serve him? The answer was yes. You were his to use. You spent years wanting to figure out the nuances of humanity and once you realized it, it only made you want to seek something new. Exciting. Morally corrupt. He was exactly who you needed.

“King?” He questions with a head tilt, releasing his grip from your neck.

You take this as an opportunity to show your worth to him. You fall to your knees, bowing your head and hands flat on the ground. You look up at him with admiration. “I understand. I know what you feel and how you think. For years, I’ve studied humanity. I’ve seen the things we’re all capable of. We are not perfect. We are destructive, cruel, irredeemable. That is why I give myself to you and will hang on every word you say. I want you to teach me to be in your light. To serve by your side and fulfill your every wish. I want to be perfect for you. Please claim my body as yours to use however you like.”

He takes a step closer to you, tilting your chin up with an elongated finger. “Such a needy little thing you are. Typical of you humans. Always wanting regardless of if it’s bad for you,” He pulls his cock from his confines. It’s hard and the tip leaking precum. It was large in length smooth, slimy, reptilian skin but appeared like the average male anatomy. “Go on. Show me how you’ll serve me.”

You take his harden member in your hand taking in its beauty. You’d never seen a man like him. You settled with the idea that he would be the one to take you precious flower. He was worthy of corrupting the purity you’ve tried to maintain.

You swirl your tongue around his tip, sucking hard. You earn a grunt from him. This makes you want to hear more. Lowering your mouth down to the base, you swallow around him. He looks so beautiful above you, watching you take his down your fragile throat. He couldn’t wait to rip you apart on his dick and show you how to be taken and trained properly.

A tentacle slithers between your legs. You spread them wider wanting to show your submission to him. He just under your panties. You could feel the slimy suction of the feeler caressing the inside of your thigh. It light goosebumps against your skin at its texture. You gag around him, taking him deeper and deeper.

“Mm, you’re so greedy for me. I’m sure you wouldn’t care that I’ve killed before. Your life could be in danger right now and yet you still lust for cock. You’re such a greedy, fucking whore.” He slaps a tendril-like limb against your ass hard, the wetness causing the contact to sting even more. You choke against him.

The limb between your leg teases your clothed pussy before pushing the soft cotton of your underwear to the side. He flicks your clit back and forth, the suctions on the vine catching it over and over.

Your eyes roll back. “Thank you, sir.” You mewled, stroking his cock while you moaned out and ground against the thick appendage.

He pulls you by your hair and yanks your mouth back onto him. “Did I tell you to stop? Now I’m going to rut into your throat until it’s raw.” Wrapping two tentacles around your hair like pigtails, he drives your mouth down his length over and over. You’re forced to continue to breathe through your nose. His hips moving into your mouth so rough you could feel him in your esophagus. The limb playing with your clit rubbing harder against you. It was borderline painful.

“Look at how wet you are,” He pulls himself from between your legs even with the wet texture of his skin, you can evidently see your creamy slick against the dark blue tendril. “You enjoy being treated so poorly. I can let all my frustrations on you and you’d take it.” He pulls your mouth off him by your hair. Groaning when he sees the lines of saliva connecting his cock to your tongue, break off and drip down you chin and chest.

“Yes, master. I love to be used and ruined by you.” You say with a gasp. He shoves himself down your throat once again while thrusting the vine inside you. You cry out. You hadn’t expected penetration so suddenly. He was just at the barrier if he thrusted further you’d officially be his.

“Sit.” He commands you.

You adjust yourself, shifting at the knee so that you could take him deeper. You’re mouth yanking away from his cock once more. The barrier is finally broken and you stutter out a groan. “F-fuck!”

He maneuvers in and out of your quivering pussy, groaning at its tightness. You look down between your legs watching the extender inside you. There was blood trickling down your thighs. He was fascinated by the sight, pulling himself out of you and tasting the salty, warm liquid. His eyes glimmer with a newfound interest.

He tears off your dress and panties from you in one swift tug, your body completely bare. You instinctively cover your breasts. He couldn’t help but notice how innocent you looked under him. Like a little lamb put up for the slaughter. But you had offered yourself to him. You asked for this. So how innocent were you really?

He rips your hands away. “Do not hide yourself, little one. You belong to me.” His vine coils around your neck lifting you off your feet and slamming you against the bed. You were like a rag doll in his grasp, biting your lip at the feeling of being manhandled. You’re flipped over, forced on your hands and knees. You can hear him fumbling with his clothes. You peep over your shoulder to witness his full body which also bore resemblance of that of man and creature.

“You’re so beautiful, master. I can’t wait to have you against.” You moaned, rolling your hips in anticipation.

He smacks your ass once again then entwining an extended limb around your waist and pulling you against him. He plunges himself deep into your walls, bottoming out in one swift move. You wail, gripping the sheets in front of you. He forces your face down into the mattress while your ass remained high in the air. It was angled just in the right position for him to pummel into your wetness over and over. His grunts above you mixing in with your whines.

“So fucking tight. I’ll ruin this cunt so that no other man can have you.” He growls, smacking your ass once more. You can feel the extenders slithering all over your body caressing every part of your skin and tweaking your nipples. The suctions on them lighting goosebumps against your skin. He spits at your puckered hole rubbing a thumb at the entrance then you recognize the familiar slimy, wiggling of the tentacle penetrating your anal cavity.

He thrusts in and out of it in time with his hardness driving into your pussy. You rise up on all fours again, your tongue sticking out, panting and drooling at the pressure of being filled in both holes. “Holy fuck! Yes, yes, yes. Just like that.”

He mercilessly pounds into you, pulling you closer to him so that your back was flushed against his chest. “This is your role now. You are to take everything I give you. Everything. You’ll serve as my queen. Never to question me. Do you understand?” He whispered into your ear. He sounded so fucking sexy. His voice strained from the moans he held back so that he could speak his commands explicitly.

“Yes, master. Yes, my king. I will take it all.” I throw it back against his cock and the tentacle. They stretched both holes with a mix of pain and pleasure. You want to prove to him you can handle it with ease.

“You’re such a fucking whore. You’ve come here searching for trouble. You beg for me to take you. Then you sacrifice your whole life up there just for a taste of my cock. You’re despicable.” He smacks your ass.

“I’m filthy, sir. A fucking degenerate. I want to be whatever you want me to be. I want you to mold my whole world into your liking.” He pounds harder and it’s as if he’s got even more inches of himself to give to you.

You can feel him sloshing around inside, knocking at your insides and forming a bulge at your belly. You press it causing the two of you to hiss at the action. He swivels his hips making certain that he hits every square inch of you. His length nudges at the small, fleshy button inside you repeatedly. It felt as if he’d touched that part of you from both entrances, the tentacle flicking inside you back and forth.

Your drawn out groans are now, short gasps of air. “I’m gonna fucking cum. You’re so amazing, master!”

He rubs at your clit, the suctions pulling at your clit. You were beginning to feel delirious at this point. It was all so much and you knew that you’d finally lost any sense of sanity, you once had. A wave of bliss takes over you and you can feel yourself gushing, the evidence of your arousal dripping down your inner thighs and his cock.

“Mmm,” He moans, witnessing your creamy slick and blood make a mess of your lower bodies. He pumps sloppy, long strokes into your pussy. “Would you like to be filled to the brim, hmm? Make you drip with my cum.”

“Please fuck your babies into me. I wanna be round and full and take all of it inside. I don’t want to waste a single drop,” You fucked back against him faster, ruining his pace. You were set on him cumming in you and you could feel another orgasm beginning to bubble in the pit of your stomach. “Hurt me, master. Just the way you like. I know it’s what you need to cum. I’ve studied you. All so that I know how to please you. Please hurt me.”

That was all the encouragement he needed. He knew you could take the pain. His thrusts returned to the same force that crossed the line between pain and pleasure. He bites at your shoulder, choking you simultaneously. Your air supply had been cut off; you were getting dizzy. Your orgasm was approaching soon and you crawled at the tentacle that constricted your throat. He pounds into your sweet spot once again and a cry rips from his chest and you both tremble against one another. You both arrived at the same time. You felt as if you were dying the orgasm that shook through you so powerful, your wetness shot out like a sprinkler, wetting the bed.

His cum is hot as it paints your walls white inside you. He continues his thrusts to the point of overstimulation wanting to make sure his essence remained deep inside you. Vecna lets go of your body and you immediately collapse against the mattress. Your face down and ass still in the air as you heaved for air. He stares down at your quaking core which had been coated with a mixture of your blood and juices as well as his cum that began to seep out. He takes a finger gathering it and you turned your head to the side to face him, sticking your tongue out. He runs his finger back and forth against your tongue until you clasp a finger around it and sucked.

He removes his finger, patting and rubbing you on the head. You accept the warm embrace, nuzzles your head into his hand. “I knew you’d be the perfect queen. You understand.”

“Yes, my king. I’ve always known I was meant to serve you. I don’t care if you hurt others. You do it because you want you humanity to be better and recognize its deplorability.”

“You wouldn’t turn against me if I were to ask you to carry out an important mission?”

“No, sir,” You sit up, resting your butt on the bottoms of your feet. “I will do anything you say. I meant every word.”

“Then, there is someone whom I need you to bring to me?”

“Who?”

“Bring me the girl, Eleven. Alive.”

Tag: @stygianoir

1K notes · View notes

arachine · 2 years

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

+ 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐝: multiple stranger things men

+ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: mature

+ 𝐜𝐰: explicit sexual content

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

+ part one can be found here !

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

peter “the 001 for you” ballard

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

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

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

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

extra:

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

↻ curved: unfortunately, no :(

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

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

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

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

↻ length: if i speak…

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

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

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

extra:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

extra:

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

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

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

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

jonathan “i have a degree in stalking” byers

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

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

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

extra:

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

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

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

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

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

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lovetohate001 · 2 years

Note

001 x reader where when he kills everyone the reader isnt scared👀

Until Death Do We Part

Peter Ballard (001) x Reader

CONTENT WARNING: This piece contains violence and death. don’t read any of my works until you’ve finished Season 4 Vol. 1 of Stranger Things!

“I need you to wait here. Can you do that for me?”

Peter stood in the doorway to the small storage room, his hands on your shoulders, gently pushing you back.

You nodded silently, too scared to speak. If you got caught. If Doctor Brenner knew…

“Don’t be scared, angel.” Peter put a hand under your chin and tilted your gaze up to his. “We’re going to be alright. I promise.”

And with that, the ghost of his hand on you was all he left as he closed the door behind him. The lights flickered. The halls grew silent. You strained your ears to hear something. But there was nothing that gave away what was happening outside.

You couldn’t do this. You couldn’t let him face all these people alone. And the guards…they had guns. They would hurt him.

Standing up on shaking legs, you pushed the door open and started down the hallway. 011.010.009. The rooms passed by you in a blur as you began running. A scream echoed down the hall. Someone was screaming for help. It was a man. The crack of bone came next. A strangled moan, the gurgle of blood.

Turning down the next hall, you stopped. The smell of iron hit your nose and your eyes stung. In all your years as a test subject, you had never known what a dead body would look like. But as you caught the sight of Peter at the end of the hall, blood on that pristine, white collar of his, and bodies twisted into obscene angles at his feet, you knew what he had done.

“I told you to wait for me!” Peter shouted.

You had never seen his eyes look so wild. Unruly. And maddened. You knew you should be afraid. But instead, you felt nothing. After all these years, imprisoned, and without a family or a real home, you felt free. Seeing that guard on the floor made you feel hope.

“I’m helping you,” you snapped, stepping over the dead guards and walking up to him. Your bare feet were wet with their blood. You’d have to try and get shoes for yourself later. But first-

“Behind you!”

Peter whirled around and swept a hand in front of him. The guards followed suit and slammed into the wall. You ran up beside him and focused your own strengths on them. You ripped their guns from their belts and slid them down the hall, far from reach.

Peter grabbed you and pressed your face into his chest. “I don’t want you to see this. What they made me do. What they’ve forced me to become.”

The snapping of bones. Screaming. Bodies thud thud thudding to the floor filled your ears. You squeezed your eyes shut and held on to him tighter, an anchor to the world you were so desperately trying to escape from.

He dragged you down the hall after him as the alarms blared in your ears. You weren’t afraid anymore. You were with Peter and that was all you needed. Someone to free you both from this place. And he was now your savior. At whatever cost.

MASTERLIST

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#stranger things #001 x reader #peter ballard x reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things 001 #stranger things season 4 #001 stranger things #peter ballard fanfic #peter ballard smut #peter ballard stranger things #peter ballard #001 x oc #peter ballard x you #peter ballard imagine #001 imagine #stranger things imagine

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juliettesgotagun · 2 years

Text

The Witch King.

Summary: The witch king has chosen you to join him, and tonight, you’ll answer his call.

Pairing: Demon!Jamie x Catholic!Reader

Warnings: Smut/ Fem!Reader/ PinV sex/ Oral sex f!recieving/ breeding kink/ praise kink/ Virgin!reader.

The voices never seem to quiet. It was calling you again.

You had tried everything. You had prayed and prayed and prayed, but it was no use. You had clutched onto your crucifix every night like it was your lifeline. Yet in the very early hours of each morning, came the familiar feeling of his hand on your cheek.

He had told you he was the King of Witches, and it was time for you to join him.

You had sobbed and told him no. You had said you’d rather him kill you. In fact, you begged him to, but kill you, he did not.

He continues to call you, deep into the woods is where he wants to lead you.

You had attended church everyday, and begged your priest to save you.

And save you he did, or so he claimed, but still, eyes of cerulean blue haunt you.

You had done everything you were supposed to. You had attended church every day. You had prayed. You had been perfect.

Maybe that’s why he wanted you. To corrupt a perfect, pure soul.

The more you saw him. The more you began to doubt whether God was real. What if he was all there was?

He seemed to give purpose to your bleak lifestyle. A part of you felt special to have been chosen.

Maybe your life had a deeper meaning.

Maybe you didn’t have to just submit to your husband and worship a god not brave enough to show his face to you. To answer your prayer.

Yes, Yes. You had made up your mind.

When he came for you tonight, You would answer his call.

You had sat in front of your mirror, brushing your hair ever so daintily.

Your clothes had been discarded on the floor. You needed them no longer.

You had attended church for the last time, and look the priest in the eye and lied to him.

They’ll believe anything if it’s what they wanted to hear.

You had said goodnight to your father, hugged your mother, and kissed your little brother on the head for the last time.

You picked up the crucifix on your vanity, and threw it to the ground. When you stood, preparing to go to bed, You crushed it beneath your heel.

You buried yourself beneath the covers, and blew out the candles to go to sleep.

The wind from your open window howled, and your eyes shot open. You hadn’t need to look around to know he was there, you could feel his presence.

The moonlight cast a heavenly glow onto his features. Icy blue eyes sparkling as he watched you.

“I am ready, My lord.” You spoke.

This seemed to please him, a hint of a smile painted his face.

“I knew you would be.” He stalked closer to you, his hand lifting your chin to look up at him.

You drank him in. The moon seemingly forming a halo around his head, and his eyes pierced your very soul.

His blonde hair fell to his jaw, it was messy, but seemed to frame his face perfectly.

You wonder what being had graced him with such angular features. You could get lost him.

“You’ll give all of yourself to me now.” It wasn’t a question. A direction. This was how it begins.

You nodded, throwing off the covers, and standing before him, completely exposed, but any shyness in you had diminished. He was your king now. You had no reason to be shy. He owned you. You are his.

He said nothing as his eyes trailed up and down your body, tilting his head.

“Does this please you, My lord?”

A devilish smirk played at his lips. “Oh yes. Very much so.”

He brought his hand to your chest, caressing your cleavage.

You moved not.

He finally moved his hand, a large palm cupping your entire breast.

He bit his lip as he squeezed, and you discovered that you now had to bite yours.

His eyes flickered back up to yours, and he smiled once again.

“Lie down.” He ordered.

You did not hesitate, Lying back on your pathetic excuse for a bed.

He approached you in a very predatory fashion., pushing a part your legs with his hands.

He knelt in between them, a single digit lightly dragged over your slit.

Your face contorted in pleasure. He seemed to take note of this.

He tilted his head once more, before leaning down, and gently flicking your clit with his tongue.

Your back arched, and he gently pushed your hips back down into the mattress.

His arms hooked around your thighs, spreading them open as he began to lap at your clit.

You squirmed and squirmed, but he didn’t seem to mind, simply holding you in place as he continued his work.

A whine fell from your lips as he pulled away., sitting up and staring at your glistening folds. His hand returned to your slit, fingers began to circle your hole.

In a trance like state, he inserted the tip of one inside of you, immediately met by resistance from your virgin cunt.

He remained in this trance as he slowly pushed the entire digit inside of you.

You grimaced at the pain, however the pain was accompanied by pleasure, which caused your face to contort into a much different expression.

He did not move his finger, He had simply watched it disappear inside of you, and was now staring at the way it looked, buried deep inside of you.

“Please.” You whined.

His eyes slowly met yours, and for a moment, you feared you had upset him. He instead nodded slowly, and leaned back down, removing his finger from inside you. He hooked his arm back around your thighs.

His tongue circled your hole, and your thighs began to shake. You finally felt his tongue slip inside of you, causing soft whimpers to pass from your lips as the hot muscle probed inside of you.

Your eyes had squeezed shut, and he snapped at you. Your eye shot open and he pointed at his eyes, as if to say “Eyes on me.”

You squirmed, and your thighs shook as his tongue continued to move in and out of you. A blush painted your cheeks at the intense eye contact. The way he looked, tongue inside of you, eyes staring into yours, was…so incredibly hot. It made you leak even more juices.

You felt your cunt begin to pulse around his tongue, and a weird feeling crept up in your core.

Your whines began to get louder. You were confused. What was happening?

He kept eye contact with you, and the feeling in your core began to intensify., it felt like you were about to sneeze.

He slowly nodded from in between your thighs, giving you permission to do what ever was about to happen.

Your cunt squeezed his tongue tightly as you saw stars, back arching into the sky, crying out loudly. Sweat coated your forehead as juices poured out of you.

“What was- What did I-“ He shushed you, and you were completely out of breath. He licked the liquid from off his lips, standing and placing a hand on your cheek.

“Something only I can give you.”

You breathlessly nodded, and he began to remove his trousers.

“Your induction is about to be complete.” He smiled. “You’re about to be mine.”

He removed his trousers , and his hard cock sprung out of them. It was quite large, and had a thickness about the size of your wrist. It was red and angry looking, leaking an unfamiliar white liquid.

He climbed on top of you and caressed your cheek.

“Now, Darling. I’m about to put my cock inside of your virgin cunt. It’s going to hurt, but I’m going to need you take all of me, Okay, Sweetheart? It’s the only way that you can be mine. Can you do that? Can you be my good girl and do that for me?”

You nodded slowly, and he kissed your forehead.

His eyes trailed down as his hand guided his cock to your hole, inserting the tip of it inside of you, letting out a groan.

Pain stung at your lower regions, your chest heaving up and down as you bit down on your lip.

His forehead pressed against yours, and he continued to press further inside of you.

You let out a pain filled whine, and his hand caressed your cheek.

“Shhhh Shhh, Pretty girl. You’re doing so well for me.”

He continued to inch inside of you, and the more and more he pushed in, the less it began to hurt.

Until finally, after what felt like an hour, he finally bottomed out, and your cunt couldn’t help but clench around his unmoving, throbbing cock.

“That’s it, Princess. Clench around me. Such a Good girl.”

He slowly began to move inside of you, and your eyes squeezed shut. Whimpers began to fall from your lips, but as time went on, then went from being whimpers from pain, to from pleasure.

This feeling that he had awakened inside of you, was unlike any other. You were practically feral.

Soon enough, he had began to make you feel such ecstasy, you couldn’t take it, whining and thrashing around in pleasure. It felt too good, It was too much.

“It’s t-too much!” You cried.

His lips captured yours in a kiss. “It’s alright, Sweet girl. You can take it. I know you can. Be a good girl for me.”

He continued to pound inside of you. His hair messy and sweat glistening on his forehead.

Your eyes trailed down, and your lips parted in awe as you watched his cock disappear inside of you.

He let out a low chuckle when he noticed. “Do you like looking at that? Do you like seeing my cock inside of you? Well don’t worry, baby. This won’t be the last time.”

The same feeling from before crept up in your core, and you whined out.

“It’s happening again!” You cried out as your cunt began to pulse.

He nodded. “I know, baby. I know me too.”

Him too? What did he mean?

He trailed his hand down between your legs, rubbing your clit in fast circles.

Your whole body contorted and squirmed, as the pressure in your stomach increased.

“Do it, sweet girl. Cum for me.”

You cried out loudly, as your walls clamped down hard around him, juices spilling out of you and all over his cock.

“Fuck!” He exclaimed, as his trusts became sloppier and sloppier.

“Fuck, I’m gonna do it. I’m gonna claim you, baby. You’re gonna be all mine. I’m gonna fill your tummy with me, yeah?” He said, breathlessly, before pushing deep inside of you one last time, filling you completely. You cried out one last time.

Two pairs of footsteps barreled towards your door. Your parents had heard you cry out, trying their best to pry open the bedroom door.

By time they finally got it, the door swung open to reveal no one inside. The wind blowing through the room, window wide open.

Your mother knelt down, picking up the broken crucifix on the ground, crying out at the realization that came with it.

That Lucifer, himself, had their precious daughter in his clutches.

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ilovetoxicfictionalmen · 2 years

Text

Psycho Killer

pairing: peter ballard x fem!reader

summary: reader has to deal with the consequences on what she has unleashed in hawkins lab.

warnings: blood, violence, manipulation, angst, possessiveness, controlling, dark fan fiction.

notes: this is my first tumblr post and peter ballard story lol. anyways no smut however if you do like this then let me know if you want a part two (with smut of course). purposely written with no caps. this means it’s a flashback. also i don’t properly prove read ! i hope you enjoy !

you should have waited. you were told to wait. ordered to wait for him. but here you were, taking two steps forward and one step back, terrified about what was occurring. whatever plan he was executing. the alarm wailing was what caused you to break your promise. what if peter was in danger? what if he needed you? the flickering lights and sounds of screaming over the transceiver proved you wrong. he was free from harm, which horrified you.

there was a growing endless pit in your stomach from every step you took. this couldn’t be by the hands of peter. he only wanted to set the both of you free from this prison. that’s what he told you. this barbaric disastrous in hawkins laboratory couldn’t be from him. but it was pointless, being in such denial. you had to do something, help some of these innocent people get out alive from this monster you’ve unleashed. if only you knew another way. if only you never removed the soteria from his neck. he’d still be sane. what have you done?

you creeped down the cement steps, in the dark boiler room. your heart was racing, goosebumps all over your cold skin. your eyes darted across the room, searching for him. the pipe hissed out steam which caused you to gasp lightly. you stepped back and bumped into a firm figure, it was peter. you turned back as he held his finger to his soft lips and whispered for you to be quiet. you followed his order.

“follow me” he instructed. he didn’t wait for you, because he knew you’d listen. peter knelt down before a pipeline to jerk off the metal barrier. he dropped the barrier and looked towards you with soft eyes.

“now, it’s going to be a bit scary in here. but this, this will lead you out beyond the the lab fence to the woods” peter explained to you as he stared down the dark tunnel with weak eyes. you frowned, examining the sizing of the tunnel, and then you frowned to him.

“but… you’re too big” you noted, your stomach felt heavy as you waited for him to look back to you. it made you feel so much more anxious.

you would fit, just. it’d take some time to crawl out into the woods. but you didn’t want to go without him, you couldn’t go without him. this was meant to be a plan for you to escape together. there’s a slim chance you’d be able to survive, let alone escape without him.

slowly, he looked back towards you. he straightened his back and grabbed ahold of your cold hands. he felt so warm, it made you feel even weaker. his head tilted slightly as he looked for his words.

“i’m not going with you y/n” he confessed. you blinked back your tears. he leant in closer to you. “i meant what i said, when i called this place a prison. and everyone here is a prisoner, not just you. not just your brothers and sisters, but the guards too, the nurses” peter explained to you. his long fingers traced circles over the palms of your hands. you looked down to focus on his hands, it gave you comfort. “me” he finished. you looked back up to him, confused and lost. “look” he requested as he let go of your hands

peter tilted his head down to the left and held back his hair, exposing his neck. he grabbed your hand and placed it over his neck. “can you feel it?” he asked you as your finger traced over a small, firm, moveable bump in his neck. “your papa calls it soteria” he explained to you. he pushed your hand back, but still held onto it as he looked back to you. “it weakens me. it tracks me. even if there were another way out, he will find me. and if he finds me, he will find you” peter made clear.

you paused. blinking back the tears until you found your voice again. “what if i… took it away from you?” peter cocked an eyebrow to you as he waited for you to continue. his eyes were wide, and you weren’t sure if he was eager or scared for your next choice of words. “i can’t make it without you. i don’t want to make it without you. i-” you halted, unaware on if you wanted to say such nonsense.

peter squeezed your hands. “it’s okay, you can tell me” he assured you. it calmed you enough to feel ease in your throat again.

“i have feelings for you- i think that i love you. i don’t know what else this feeling could be” you admitted. he gave you a small smile as you two admired one another.

peter had lied to you. he manipulated you into setting him free. all of this disaster is your fault, and yours alone. you felt so used, so heartbroken. you loved him, you still love him. but this wasn’t peter, this was a sinister.

you should have noticed the subtle insanity in his expression once you had removed the soteria. the silence he had as he examined it. if only you paid attention to what he whispered. that evil grin would have explained everything to you.

you only thought he was protecting you, when he killed those guards. you didn’t know he wanted to hurt them. they wanted to hurt you, and him as well. you would have never seen him again, dr brenner would had banished one of you. he reassured your safety and protection when he showed you his tattoo. you two were alike, you were both unique and special. it was as if you were made for one another. it felt like it was destiny.

he cared for you, he wanted you to stay safe as he found a way out for you guys. he didn’t kiss you before he abruptly left, and at the time you had wished he had. you thought he would have. so now you weren’t sure what his true intentions are. what he had planned for you after this massacre. he was too powerful to defeat but you had hope, maybe you could convince him out of this before it was too late. maybe you could save the other children before he gets to them.

you gasped as you saw papa unconscious on the ground in a testing room. the door was ripped off the hinge. you were too frightened to see if he was still alive. as you turned, you saw an orderly with his eyes gouged out sitting against the tiled walls. you skipped a breath as you hesitated to continue on. you wished you hadn’t, but there was no turning back now. you saw the bodies of the children, all with their eyes gouged out as well. you were too late. you ran from the gruesome scenes, unaware of where to go now. but they only continued. there was blood everywhere. death was following you. the screams echoed the halls, and the blood printed on your mind.

you were on the verge of a panic attack. this was all your fault. your breathing was rough and your eyes kept squinting at every turn, fresh blood splattered everywhere. your heart was pounding to the point that you were convinced that it would snap open a part of your ribcage. you heard screams coming from the rainbow room and you weren’t sure if you had it in you to go in.

but what peter was doing was pure evil. you couldn’t stand by and allow such wickedness, knowing that you are the cause of this. a rush of adrenaline flown through you as you pushed open the doors. you stepped in to become frozen in fear.

peter stood tall with his back towards you, his hand raised into the air, his eyes had rolled to the back of his skull. there was blood splattered across his white uniform. but that wasn’t what petrified you, it was eleven’s small shaking body hanging in the air, her bones were snapped as her eyes bleed out. a soft groan was her final breathe as peter dropped her lifeless to the ground. there was dead bodies of the children everywhere. all of them had the same fatality. peter stood there, his breathing pushing his chest in and out. you shrieked at the horror, your back pressed against the doors now. peter spun around to you within a blink of the eye.

“i told you to wait” peter growled at you. he looked furious with you, for disobeying a simple order. it would have been better if you stayed in the closet. he knew how overwhelmed you’d become, how frightening this would be for you. he wanted to protect you from this.

he took a large step towards you. your hand gripped onto the door handle. he paused, an eyebrow now cocked towards you. he waited for your next move. your flight or fight mode kicked in. you bolted out of the rainbow room. peter only watched you scatter for your life. you missed his expression mixed with anger and disappointment.

you cried as you ran down the blood filled halls. tears streamed down your flustered cheeks as you couldn’t notice how breathless you were. you leaped over the body of a dead guard, but you slipped over a hidden pool of blood. you hissed as your hip crashed into the wall. you groaned as you tried to pull yourself up. you looked down the hall, your eyes widened as you saw peter striding towards you, wrath in his blue eyes. his hand swiped across the air, throwing the dead bodies in the hall to the side.

you shrieked again as you forced your injured body up. you rushed to the boiler room, it was your only chance of escape now. you scurried down the stairs and searched for the pipeline. dropping to your knees, you sprung yourself into the rusting, tight tunnel. however, firm hands gripped onto either side of your hips which caused you to cry out. you’re yanked out of the pipe and peter viciously let’s go of your frail body. you slid on the cement, adding to your pain.

“why are you trying to run from me?” peter spat out. but you were too scared to respond. your body curled up into a ball. that didn’t please peter. he scrunched his hand, which caused a force to push you towards him. he grabbed ahold of your arms roughly and glared down towards you. his looks could have killed you.

“peter… please this- this isn’t-”

“peter isn’t real sweetheart” you were cut off by peter. that evil grin was back.

“i don’t understand” you cried out, confused and scared.

his expression softened as he thought with logic instead of emotion. his grip loosened as he observed how distressed you were. he lowered you to your knees, you sunk below him. he brushed his hand through your knotted hair. you looked up to him with broken eyes, tears still dripping down your cheeks. peter squatted besides you and wiped away your tears with the back of his hand.

“a story set for another time. your brain has had too much to comprehend today i think” he gave you a small smile as he tapped your forehead. you flinched at the tap. “why do you cry for them y/n? after everything they did to you. you think you need them but you don’t. you only need me…” he spoke softly to you now, the back of his hand gently touched your heated cheek.

it sent a shiver down your spine. it was so soft but firm at the same time. it felt like it was a threat instead of a notion. his touch felt stone cold now, it was irritating you but you wouldn’t dare to pull away.

“they’re just children” you whispered. peter scoffed as a response.

“they were merely gadflies. an embarrassment of my fabrication. i gave them mercy” peter responded, emotionless.

“are you going to kill me now?” you asked as you moved your gaze to the cement ground. you had already accepted your fate, but now you weren’t sure if he was going to go through with it now.

peter frowned and forced you to look back to him. your chin was caught between his fingers. he read your eyes for what felt like hours. a chuckle left his lips, you gave him a bemused look. “sometimes i wonder how you’re so naive…” he admitted with an eased shrug of the shoulders. he continued on, “why would i commit such act? do you believe that i had deceived you of my fondness towards you?” peter questioned her.

“my feelings for you are stronger than i can express y/n”.

“do you?” peter asked again. you shook your head quickly. peter smiled to you and nodded his head. “good, are you still fond of me?” he replied.

was this a trick question? you weren’t sure how to respond. peter gritted his teeth, which motivated you to answer him. “yes” you answered honestly. he smiled once more.

“that’s very good” he answered. “however… i do not tolerate disobedience” peter brought up, you stared at him with unease.

“i’m sorry” you apologised instantly. but it’s not enough, you should know that.

“that won’t cut it” he sighed. peter stood back up to his feet and brushed his bloody hand through his blonde hair. he looked down towards you. your eyes briefly looked over his lower region. by the time you had set your sight on his eyes, he was smirking to you. “but it’s okay… we have all the time in the world now” he pointed out. “stand up y/n” he commanded.

you hissed in pain as you forced yourself to stand before him. peter placed his palm against your cheek. instantly you felt tired and dizzy. it was a struggle to keep your eyes open. you fell into his arms, he held onto your tightly, as he watched you like a hawk. through your blurred vision, you could still see that evil grin of the man that you still loved.

#stranger things season 4 #henry creel #peter ballard #001 x reader #peter ballard x you #peter ballard x reader #henry creel x reader #dark fanfiction #dark peter ballard #manipulation #controlling #stranger things #jaime campbell bower #vecna stranger things #vecna

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m0mmat0rtle · 2 years

Text

Sugar on Top (Peter Ballard x Reader)

Stranger Things 4 Spoilers!!

plot: AU where Peter escapes from the lab on his own and makes a new life for himself in the next tiny town over from Hawkins

reader works in a bakery bc I thought that would be cute

warnings: Absolutely none this is pure fluff

word count: 864

You were placing another pie into the display window when the chime over the door to the bakery rang signaling a customer walking in. You lifted your head to see someone new, someone you hadn’t seen yet in your tiny town where everyone knew practically everyone. It wasn’t Hawkins, no, you took up residence in the next tiny town over. And tiny was almost an understatement. Everyone here knew everyone and they also knew everything about everyone. Your business was as good as everyone else’s. You had a few regular customers of course, but they had all come and gone for the day. This was someone new, someone different. A stranger.

You looked up from the pie display and smiled as you wiped your hands on your apron. You fashioned your kindest and politest customer service smile as you moved swiftly to the counter to greet the new customer. “Hi!” you said cheerfully before your breath caught itself in your lungs. This wasn’t just someone new, this was a very pretty someone new. The stranger flashed you a smile and you could feel your heart jump into your throat. His glistening blue eyes sparkled in the soft golden daylight that flooded in from the bakery windows. That same golden hued light made his fluffy blond hair almost seem like an angelic halo. There was no doubt in your mind, this was one of the most beautiful men you had ever seen.

“Hi there.” He replied, returning your kind smile and you were pulled out of your momentary trance of observation. “Welcome to Sugar on Top.” You said the name of the bakery you ran with your family with a bit of a shaky voice, your smile persisting some how. You prayed you weren’t smiling as wide as you thought you were. A smile that wide would terrify almost anyone. But he didn’t seem terrified, he seemed kind and gentle as he grinned back at you. “Thank you.” He replied, delight dancing in those blue eyes that looked back at you. “I haven’t seen you around before.” You noted. “Are you new in town?” You asked, mentally slapping yourself. You now had to seem like a stalker, that was a much too invasive question to ask someone you literally just met. No, you hadn’t even met him, you literally didn’t even know his name. To your surprise, he chuckled lightly and his expression seemed to be even more delighted. He looked down for a moment before looking back up to meet your eyes. “I am, actually.” He said. “Is it that obvious?” He added. “Well, everyone here knows everyone.” You replied. “And I don’t know you, so I could only assume that you’re new.” “I just moved here, actually.” He replied. “Trying to escape the town where I grew up.” He added with a shrug. “I just really needed a change in scenery.”

“I’m Peter, by the way.” He introduced himself as he took a look around to see the baked goods in the bakery. You flashed him a smile as you told him your name. “That’s such a lovely name.” Peter replied before repeating your name back to you, trying it out on his own tongue. “How long have you worked here?” He asked, walking back up to the counter and you could feel the rate of your heartbeat increase just slightly. “Most of my life.” You replied. “My family owns the place.” You added with a grin, trying to make it sound like you weren’t roped into some kind of child labor scheme. He nodded. “What about you?” You asked. “Do you have a job in town?” “I do, actually.” He replied. “I just started at the library today.” “You work at the library!” You almost shouted. “I love that place! I’m always there on my days off.” He smiled brightly at your words. “I’m assuming you like to read then?” He asked and you nodded. “Absolutely. There’s nothing better than a good book if you ask me.” “I agree.” He replied. “What do you recommend?” He asked. “Well my all time favorites are definitely the classics, Peter Pan, Alice in Wonderland, The Wizard of Oz, that kind of stuff but I’ve recently been reading the Great Gatsby and-” He started laughing, but not a mocking laugh. This was more of a laugh of someone laughing at something cute their partner was doing. You smiled as you looked at him curiously. “What?” You asked and he looked at you. “I was asking about the baked goods,” He replied, gesturing to the many ones on display. “Not books, although I am pleased to know that you have good taste.” He said and you felt a blush creep up on your cheeks. “Oh.” You said softly as you allowed yourself a moment to gather your opinions back up. “The pie.” You finally said. “I make them fresh every day.” You said. “Oh well if you make them then they must be good.” He said before giving you a wink. “Which one in particular is your favorite?” He asked curiously, eyeing the selection of pies that you just set out. “The one with Sugar on Top.”

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themoonsbride · 1 year

Text

She's Mine, You Stay Away From Her .

pairing; Peter Ballard x Fem!Reader

summary; Reader is basically in Elevens spot like in the episodes leading up to 7; The Massacre at Hawkins Lab in season 4

warnings; swearing, descriptions of - Murder, insanity, hatred, being shocked, anxiety, isolation. Peter himself is considered a warning for this fic.

a/n; I've spent forever working on this agh!!! it's been taking up my time of working on other requests </3 but I got the inspiration of this fic based of an edit I saw of Peter to this song! I also just really wanted to write him to a Pierce The Veil song because they're my favorite band :) (HOPING THIS DOESNT FLOP HHJ)

word count; 5.1k

--×♥︎×--

The lingering quietness was always off putting inside of Hawkins Labrotory. It always made you feel uneasy. The fact that you were forced to live and work here everyday for most likely the rest of your life was uneasy.

But there was nothing that could be done, Martin Brenner was a dangerously powerful man who ruled over everybody that was within the walls of his facility.

And it was clear to you that he had not a single silver of an amount for care for the humans inside of his building either. If he did, he wouldn't be scientifically experimenting on children to give them different forms of physiological powers. It was inhuman to do this to undeveloped brains of practically toddlers.

And you having to watch and document it happen every single day was picking away at your sanity piece by piece. What you would do if you could've had the power the children withheld.

You would take matters into your own hands and put an end to all of this insanity that went on, put an end to the man behind the madness.

You weren't sure if you were losing your sanity, or if it was already lost. But you would do anything to break free of this hell, Martin seemed to be Satan himself when someone did something he didn't like, if they even breathed the wrong way, his wrath would come their way and would last for longer than you'd prefer to admit.

But you weren't the only one who seemed to grow this type of hatred for a place like this, no. There was another, And though you'd never been directly told you weren't the only one, you could tell. It was obvious in your eyes.

He seemed to be Brenners favorite, and also his most hated worker, And his name is Peter Ballard. A man with the facial features made of pure beauty like a God.

He isolated from others, as they were uninterested in him and often spat shit at him, infront of him and behind his back and you'd heard it all. Some of the pesky rumors that went around about that gorgeous man seemed so ridiculous a fucking 4th grader could've came up with better.

You were both just looking at eachother, the tension wasn't awkward between the two of you, she was nervous to be standing before you, you towered over her.

She probably would have started to sweat thick bullets if it weren't constantly fucking cold. Which surprisingly didn't constantly get the children sick, maybe them having humanly impossible powers strengthened their immune system to the point they don't get sick anymore.

It wouldn't suprise you if that were true, nothing was surprising anymore unless Brenner left you off with a warning and not 3 hours of you getting shocked to the point your nerves went numb and you felt like you were about to take your last fucking breathe.

"play." Eleven mumbled out and lightly tugged on the hem of your skirt. you raised a brow at her, your face felt blank, and numb, you felt numb inside too.

"play what." your voice was clear and ferm, your remember how your mother used to tell you when you were a teenager that she loved the femininity in your voice, it made you sound more professional.

The image of your mother's face in your head made you feel a certain way, a feeling that had felt lost for a long time, like it was hidden deep and burrowed inside you.

"puzzle." Eleven spoke, bringing you back to the reality you lived in today. the dreadful reality you lived in.

"okay." her small fingers wrapped around your index one, guiding you towards a small table, leaving you next to one of the chairs, you sat down feeling somewhat hesitant. You didn't understand, why now? why would Eleven now be talking to you?

Maybe it was something under the control of Peter, or Brenner, maybe either of them convinced her to talk to you, to get you to like her and use her as a weakness towards you. You didn't trust anyone anymore, the first look you took inside this building, you knew you were fucked.

Eleven sat across from you and placed a tiger children's puzzle onto the table, opening the box carefully. Everything felt off, You'd never spoken to Peter before, but you didn't need too, you already knew he hated this facility as much if not more than you did.

But you did supervise the rainbow room together, You were never a fan of the room, infact you seemed to have a weird sense of hatred for it, the way the room was displayed.

Maybe it was those muted rainbows on the wall and flooring. Or all the toys that surrounded them to make it seem like they were cared for, when in reality it was most likely to keep them distracted from the mortifying reality around them.

The somewhat nice part about that room was the children mostly placed nicely with one another, the youngest would play with wooden building blocks or solve animal puzzles. There were only around 4 of the children that were in their tweens..

It was 002 and his gang, God you fucking hated 002 and his devious little followers. All they did was bother one of the subjects, and specifically one, her name was Eleven.

She never caused trouble, because she was too afraid. She feared everybody, and she was only a little bit older than the youngest ones. She was 8 years old, the younger ones were more around 5-6.

She was especially scared of the workers, but she liked to play around with the puzzles and challenge herself to see if she could solve them, she also seemed to be observant.

She seemed to take interest in you, often you would catch her looking over at you, but you'd never thought anything of it, mainly because you couldn't care enough.

But today was different, because this time instead of the small girl just eagerly staring at you, she ended up walking her walk over towards you. You tried not to show the suprise on your face, you saw Peter watching her as if he were a hawk and she was a meek prey from the corner of your eye.

Her shaved head looked up at your eyes, You assumed she wanted to talk to you, but since she was 8, and no one cared to teach these beings anything else other than how to enhance their powers, they most likely didn't understand how to form full sentences from what you've seen and heard.

You looked around the room carefully without trying to move your head much, you started inspecting the rest of the ominously quiet room. The children were usual to minding their business.

You brought your gaze to the blonde man who kept to himself, and noticed he couldn't seem to keep his own gaze off of you.

'..Weird.'

You looked back over at Eleven and found her struggling to fit a puzzle piece to connect with another, though it was the wrong piece. You carefully took the small cardboard photo from her tiny fingers and placed it in the spot, she just stared at you, like she were embarrassed.

You weren't really sure what you were supposed to do or say now, you sort of just awkwardly smiled, it was too quiet for you to speak, your sanity didn't want you to crack somehow by simply speaking to an 8 year old.

She sort of just awkwardly looked away from you like she felt shy or wanted to speak, but obviously as noted before, she doesn't really understand how. Which is expected.

She instead just went back to figuring out how to member the tiger into a normal photo once more. You observed her movements closely, usually when she would think very critically of her next move she'd place her small index finger onto her chin or lower lip.

Every now and again she had to look up in your direction, as her way of saying "help" or "can't figure it out" and you wordlessly helped her and pieced the correct parts together. She'd finished her puzzle just as Brenner had entered the room.

"Goodmorning Children." And there she was to get quick on her feet and in her spot where she always stood in union with the rest of her "siblings."

You were meant to stand as well and did so, you watched all of them follow out behind Brenner and were fast to break the puzzle and place it back inside its box and onto the shelf where it was kept.

When you turned again, Peter was still stood in that spot next to the door, you knew he was watching you, and as much as it would've put anyone else on edge, it didn't for you. You were constantly being watched by your every move in your life now, so it seemed like nothing new.

--×♥︎×--

It was now your break, taking your time into the breakroom, it was like any other room. Only with a fridge and a counter top inside of it with a coffee machine. The coffee was rancid, tasted horrid.

The taste of the dirt water reminded you of when your father forced you into summer camp, when he first told you he had signed you up, you were extremely pissed.

"I'm am not going daddy! I do not want to go to summer camp! I'd rather be home!"

You would whine and complain to him, but there was nothing to be done, he already signed the paperwork and handed over the cash.

And when you had gone, it was more fun than you had expected. You went inside of a swamp and a creek, and went fishing, did tie die and collected rocks and small insects. You'd even found a snapping turtle once.

Remembering the times of your early teenage years and how you'd been happy made you feel a sense of grief, and also anger. With yourself and the world around you.

You pushed through the double doors of the breakroom, grabbing water from the half broken refrigerator and sat down by yourself, alone.

You were always alone, even when there were others around you, you were alone. No one seemed to take interest in you, not like you'd wanted them to anymore at this point.

Even if you could see through that perfectly physical man with those deep blue eyes, you were still alone. you always were since birth. Barely ever had many friends, always the targeted girl when it came to kids who had troubles in their own lives and had the shit audacity to take it out on you.

What you would've given to get your revenge on those little fucks at the time you were dealing with them.

What you would give to get your revenge on Brenner and all the shit he's dumped onto you and the rest of the people who were imprisoned here.

Your train of thought about you getting your pay back was interrupted by the sound of the doors opening again. You didn't want to make it noticeable that you were checking who was entering, But you weren't too shocked to see it was Peter.

You stared at the bottle of water that was held in your hands, small beads of sweat forming on the plastic and making your hands moist.

The sound of coffee pouring from the dispenser of the machine filled the room, no matter how similar you could tell you were to others, you never understood the trouble they would put themselves through of drinking the mud water that was labeled as "coffee" in this building.

what's something that was a shock to you about the man was that he'd sat across from you, he never interacted with you before and now he's suddenly across from you, you could feel him staring again.

It was like Lazer beams burning through metal. You'd felt that same feeling with Brenner multiple times before, it was an anxiety inducing feeling.

It reminded you of how he'd lecture and yell at you for the littlest of actions, like giving one of the children candy or something else that doesn't even matter.

And then when you would refuse to look at him because you didn't want to see that familiar cold glare that would send shrieks of fear throughout your entire being he'd send you to the punishment room.

Your skin began to form goosebumps at the memory of your entire body going numb and not being able to feel anything and your throat constantly hoarse and sore from that fucking collar he'd put on you like you were some dog.

Your skin felt itself getting warmer like your blood was boiling with rage from all your mistreatment and how you could do absolutely nothing about what you've gone through.

You shook your thoughts away, not wanting to physically remember what it felt like to wear that collar or feel those metal rods connect with your skin.

"Eleven seemed to take an interest in you today." His voice broke the imagery of your memories and your eyes automatically looked into his, they weren't cold like Brenners, they were light, and reminded you of clear skies during the summer that you used to take in while you'd make castles at the beach when you were a child, or would learn to ride your bike as your mother helped guide you in the spring, how you'd ride around your neighborhood as a teenager and would embrace the warm air and beautiful sky.

"Yeah, I suppose she did." Your voice was flat, but it wasn't cold, or mean, but it also didn't sound normal, but what would he know anyway? he's never even spoken to you before.

"She usually doesn't do that with the orderly." He clearly wanted to talk to you about something and it wasn't Eleven, but you weren't sure if you should just go along with it, or tell him to get on with the point already.

"She usually isn't like that with anyone." you remarked, there was a slight snark in your tone, you didn't really want to come off as snarky, but who wouldn't after all the shit that goes on in this place?

"So I've noticed" He didn't sound mad, and he still hadn't taken his eyes off you the entire time, it was a little uncomfortable how good he was at holding eye contact, but maybe that's what the point of making it so strong, was to make the other uncomfortable.

Or maybe it could've been unintentional, it was clear why it was one of the reasons your coworkers commented it on it and called him 'weird' or 'creepy.'

It didn't make you as uncomfortable as it would've others, it was normal to feel that way in Hawkins Labrotory. But when it was Peter who was making this strong of eye contact, it didn't seem that uncomfortable anymore. His eyes were so angelic and his hair seemed perfect in the horrible light, almost like there was a halo around his head.

It felt almost like you were losing yourself in him, like the way you'd lose yourself in the pages of a book, or a masterpiece of a drawing that someone would spend day and night on.

Maybe because in your eyes, he was like a masterpiece drawing, he was beautiful.

The both of you were just glaring at eachother now. It wasn't awkward, it only would've been if you told yourself it was. You learned a long time ago about how it worked that way, your mother had told you.

"That was so awkward.." You spoke quietly, walking out of the doctors office with your mother.

"It was only awkward because you had told yourself it was." She replied, walking to the car that your father was waiting in.

"What do you mean?" You looked up at her as she suddenly stopped in her movements and looked down at your 13 year old self.

"It was only awkward, because you told yourself the tension and the interaction was awkward." You were still confused.

"If you don't tell yourself when something is awkward, you won't feel so anxious or uncomfortable anymore." And then she continued back in her tracks.

you were only 13, so you still didn't understand what the hell she was talking about, and even now you didn't really understand. She'd worded it in a way were it sounded like she thought awkwardness was just an illusion of the human mind.

Sometimes your mother would be very smart with her words or explanations, and others it seemed like she just didn't care enough to hear you talk about how you felt, or she just wasn't sure how to explain something to you.

It was now that you realized that you still didn't respond, assuming that's what he was waiting for, there weren't any words that were forming out of your throat, and lunch was about to end anyways so you just stood to your feet.

"Lunch is about to end, maybe I'll see you tomorrow." You spoke quickly before exiting, he was watching you the entire time, of course.

--×♥︎×--

It was now Training of the next day, the children were lined up against the wall whilst they waited for their turn to use their powers on a ring a bulbs that was implanted in the floor infront of a metal chair.

It was currently 002's turn to attempt to light the glass bulbs, You walked up and placed the headset onto his buzzed scalp.

You felt your skin grow warm with how close in contact you were with him as a visous anger grew deeper in you for him. And for a split second, you were thinking of what it would've looked like if you killed him right then infront of everyone.

When you finished placing the wiring on his head you quickly walked away back in your spot at the corner of the room, clamping your hands behind yourself as usual.

You glanced over at Peter, and he was quick to look back over at you, but it wasn't like he darted his head over at you, it was slow and calm. Maybe that's what was off-putting about him that people didn't seem to like.

It was sort of assuring to see him be slow and calm, almost like he was tired, or maybe just burnt out, whether it was mentally or physically you didn't know, but it was sticking out to you.

He was good at masking how tense he was and how much he hated everyone here, as were you. Maybe he could see through you too and that's why he had spoken to you yesterday.

He seemed to take a liking in Eleven though, he was sitting next to her and talking to her a few days before she'd spoken to you, which is why you were curious as to whether if it were his doing or not.

Brenner had forced Eleven to go next by brainwashing her with a piece of fucking candy. A piece of candy she clearly could've cares less for, she was so obviously scared and uncomfortable. Her powers weren't as strong as the rest of her siblings.

Peter had went up and placed a headset on her stubble hair, unnecessarily fixing the front of her headset. He'd whispered something to her, why would he have done so right infront of everyone in the room? infront of Brenner? He was practically asking for the punishment room, but why would you care? it wasn't you who would be tortured later on.

It was her who had you do that stupid puzzle with her, you weren't the one who came up to her asking to solve a puzzle, she just up and decided randomly to ask you to solve one with her. after almost 2 weeks of her just eye-balling you.

--×♥︎×--

It was now a week later, and todays training was different from anything else they've done before, Peter's been interacting with Eleven more, and it's quite strange.

Regardless of all the rumors of how strange he is, this was one of things you did find weird, why has he started randomly started interacting with her? What was he telling her?

Brenner proceeded to draw 2 circles with white chalk onto the lominum floor as he spoke.

"For today's lesson, we are going to play a game." His voice was mutated to sound kind with a plastic smile on his face. It was a relief that these children didn't understand how powerful and cruel he truly was, but it was also so fucked in the head that he would do this to any of them and act like some big teddy bear and like this was okay.

It wasn't, obviously. But it just pissed you off so much, and it only made things worse when you'd remind yourself there was nothing you could do about it. It started to feel like every passing day it felt more and more like you were living in an insane asylum.

You used to think about escaping from time to time, but now you full on fucking fantazied it. you truly were starting to go insane, who wouldn't though.

002 was beating all of his opponents, and then it was Elevens turn, and when Peter finished tying on her blindfold, he wasn't very quiet to whisper "Good Luck" in her ear.

This started to seem tedious to you, what the fuck is he telling her? what if he's attempting to brainwash her just like Brenner? Though you told yourself multiple times you could've given less of a shit about these kids, there was a part of you that felt protective over Eleven.

Almost maybe like a motherly kind of protection? Though it wouldn't matter, there's nothing you can protect her from because both of you live in danger. She just isn't aware of it.

To your suprise, Eleven beat 2, she had slammed his body against the mirror behind him, leaving it cracked, he was shaking and looked at her with fear But he'd get his revenge soon, and you were sure of it, whether or not he'd be successful in getting away with it was yet a mystery. Because he's gotten away with it before, you've seen it yourself.

You could still remember it like it were yesterday, when you had to monitor the cameras.

"You're weak, and useless. You don't deserve to have the place as papa's favorite.." His voice was hushed and filled with rage.

"I-im sorry.." Eleven was so young at the time, her lip was trembling and tears were forming in her waterline.

"I'm gonna hurt you, for having what I dont.."

"please d-don-" But before she could even beg him further to spare her, she was already being pushed around the room, into tables and on the floor.

And then they left her there, crying.

Why they were all in there? was never answered, but she shouldn't have been in there by herself with 002 in the same building as her.

But the small amount of guilt you felt for her on that day still lingers. 002 stumbled to his feet and sat with the other children.

"It looks like we have a new winner." Brenner spoke, Eleven seemed shocked and nervous at the same time, but at this point it seemed like nervous was just a normal feeling and vibe to get from her.

--×♥︎×--

You were back inside the breakroom now. Holding a bottle of water you most likely weren't going to drink. And Peter entered the room too, but this time was different.

"Miss L/n, may I speak to you, alone?" His tone sounded pleadful and curious.

"We are alone." You answered firmly, but he didn't respond he just continued to stare at you, and then that's when you glared at the camera in the corner of the room and sighed to yourself.

Standing to your feet and walking over to him, you didn't trust him or his motives regardless of seeing his feelings. it was how everyone felt about this place.

He took you inside of a small broom closet that seemed like it was never entered anymore, he closed the door behind himself and you just stood there.

He faced you and smiled lightly at you, but you were careful go examine him.

Your grandmother always told you to keep your head up and seem serious, men would take you seriously, especially if you'd show you didn't have a care for them.

And throughout your life, it mostly worked, but Peter was already here when you came here 2 years ago, so he probably would be smarter than that.

"How would you like to escape with Eleven and i?" His tone was excited but quiet.

"What?" You were in pure shock and weren't even sure if you heard him correctly, but you did your best to keep a straight face.

"I've been speaking with Eleven"

"I've noticed that." You kept your voice ferm and serious, you didn't want to agree with him, maybe if you kept this conversation with him, you'd be able to seek through his true intentions.

"And I've told her about how she deserves to escape this horrible place."

"Are you fucking insane?" You blurted out, you didn't mean too, it was just the first thing that came to mind.

Was he fucking insane? what the hell was he doing tell an 8 year old to escape the place she's lived in and only knows as good? what else has he told her?

He completely disregarded the question, which was appreciated on your end.

"I've got a plan set out for her and I, and I know you hate it here, Y/n."

"You don't know shit." So maybe he could see through you too, but this couldve still be a trap regardless, a trap to get you into trouble or become his little minion and do whatever he wants you too.

"Don't I? I've seen the way you've glared at Brenner and 002."

"You look at them the same way, It's not just them either, don't think I didn't know you couldn't keep your eyes off me either Ballard." You felt someone outraged that he would just randomly propose this to you, he didn't even know you. Maybe he didn't have too, though.

"The same goes for you, are you going to join us, or no." His voice sounded serious now, and after a few moments of just staring at him, you could sense this man was infact serious.

"..When is this happening exactly?"

"Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" You looked at him like he had actually lost his mind, and maybe he did, but whats so wrong with that?

It's not like you had your sanity in tact with you anymore either, so if he's crazy then you can be crazy together surely.

"Are you joining us, yes. or no?"

"..Yes."

Part of you was mentally cursing yourself out for agreeing, you still didn't trust him, fuck no. But at least you just got a free get out of jail ticket so.

--×♥︎×--

You felt anxious in the rainbow room, Peter was nowhere to be seen all day, and you felt hazy, your vision felt blurry and eyes sore, but from crying.

Your breathing was shaking and so where your hands, you hadn't gotten anxiety since your freshmen year of collage.

You remembered the uncontrollable fear that was tensing throughout your veins, you used to get that same feeling when Brenner would have his gaurds shock you until he felt as though you'd had enough.

When you were barely breathing and laying on the floor like an injured kitten inside of a box that no one cared for.

Eleven was at a coloring station, she checked the clock and then stood to her feet, making her way towards an orderly and leaving with him.

You soon exited the room aswell, going down into the basement where Peter had instructed you to meet him.

'I'm going to be free, I'm going to be free. I want to get revenge, I want my revenge. I want Brenner to feel the pain he caused me.' Your mind raced as you walked down those steps and soon saw Peter waiting for you.

'I want him dead.'

"Hey." You spoke, walking up to him

"Hello, Eleven will be here soon." You didn't respond after that, instead just leaned against the wall next to him, picking at your fingers.

Soon Elevens small body was heading down the stairs, you stood up straight as she looked for the both of you, bumping into Peter.

"Shh, follow me." And then the both of you were following after him as he took the both of you over to a small drain, atleast, that's what it had looked like anyways.

He was able to convince the small girl to escape through the pipes, explaining how they worked.

"They lead out into the woods, when you get out of here you need to run, do you understand me?" She seemed extremely scared and shook her head no.

"What about you.. and Miss L/n?" Her voice was shakey, like she didn't want to leave him, gosh what kind of things did they have going on? what was he telling her before?

"Well be following you shortly after you escape, I promise. we promise."

Eleven looked over at you to confirm his promise, and you simply nodded your head, and she was quick to squeeze herself into that tunnel.

The both of you rose to your normal height, and he smiled at you.

"How are we getting out of here now?" You asked him. there was boredom in your voice, but that was just natural now, when in reality your anxiety was bolting throughout you.

"I'll show you, it'll be fun." He smirked and grabbed your hand, running out of the basement with you, and once you two exited, the alarms were already blarring, they must've discovered that Eleven was gone by now.

Everything was happening so quickly your brain didn't have much time to process what was going on, but the next thing you knew, Peter was slaughtering everyone in sight.

There was blood splattered all over the walls and floors, this answered your question.

"Are you fucking insane?"

Yes. this is his way of saying yes, Part of you felt absolutely terrified of him and wanted to run away, but there was another, stronger half of you that felt raged and viewed this as the both of you getting your revenge.

You didn't freak out, or runaway, or feel scared of him, because he let you do the honors of killing 002, and you made sure it was agonizingly slow and painful.

And then off you two went, escaping, running as fast as possible, feeling relief, and free. Feeling a smile that was stretched on your lips as you ran, feeling the wind all around your bodies and fresh air in your nostrils.

You were finally free at last.

#peter ballard #peter ballard x reader #peter ballard x you #peter ballard fluff #henry creel fanfiction #henry creel x y/n #henry creel x reader #henry creel #001 fluff #001 x reader #stranger things 001 #001 #jcb roles #angstish #peter ballard angst #angst with a happy ending #beginner writer

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honeybadgerwritings · 2 years

Text

Every Step You Take

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

Requested: Hi there! First I wanted to express how in love I am with your work! I honestly think you're an amazing writer and that your works are bliss istg! ♡ I just read that you're closing your requests and I wanted to see if I could leave one, if you don't wanna answer it it's okay I understand ♡I wanted to request a Peter Ballard x fem reader (if you want the reader can be one of Brenner's kids but ofc the reader's of age) with the prompts 1, 9 in fluff, 22 and 23 in smut, 19 and 25 in angst, all from him and in the order you want!

Summary: Chaos erupts in Hawkins lab. What’s happens when your close friend Peter is the reason why?

Warnings: Heavy Mentions of Blood, Gore, Violence, Death, Manipulation, Claustrophobia, Panic Attacks, Smut, Age-Gap, Oral (Fem Receiving), Fingering, Edging If You Squint.

Please Please Please let me know if I missed anything.

A/N: The reader is 18+ in this fic. If I had to give her an actual age I would say roughly 21-22. Peter is roughly 28-29. Any sexual acts are fully consensual. This is also tagged as Dark!Peter, and while that is true, it’s mostly just regular Peter, because he himself is a walking red flag, and his character is already very dark. Just wanted to make that known.

Prompts:

1. “I want you by my side.”

9. “Just trust me alright?”

19. “I know you’re mad at me, but I’m only doing this to protect you.”

22. “So good for me, look at how much you came.”

23. “Where did this attitude come from hm?”

25. “Please don’t make this more difficult than it has to be.”

This is not yet edited, I will get to it ASAP

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⚠️ This fic is 18+ so minors DNI ⚠️

Please read the Author’s Note and Warnings above before continuing!!! Thank you!

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Chaos.

If there’s one word you could pick to describe the situation you’re currently in, that would be the word to choose.

Everything around you is in utter chaos.

Alarms are blaring, the fluorescent lights over head are flickering, screaming echoes from somewhere throughout the building, and everyone is tumbling past you. It’s all a blur of white uniforms and clicking heels as someone shoves you out of their way. They’re all more concerned for their own safety than yours, as you stand there, utterly clueless, in your hospital gown.

This doesn’t upset you though. In all honesty you’re not really worried about yourself either; If it comes down to it, you’d use your powers for protection. The only thing you’re actually worried about right now is finding him.

Finding Peter.

Peter is your….friend? Companion? You’re not really sure to be honest. All you know is that the two of you had grown close in recent months, bonding over shared experiences with loneliness. You both found solitude in each other, and he made sure you knew that you could always come to him for help, advice, or comfort.

And you did, almost every day in fact.

Being so much older than all of the kids easily made you an outcast amongst them. They didn’t disrespect you at all, in fact they’re all borderline terrified of you, but that didn’t stop the exclusion. Papa never really acknowledged you anymore, other than when he needed to run some tests, and all of the workers treated you like you were five. You were so lonely and had no one to talk to for a long time, spending most nights wandering the halls instead of being alone with your thoughts in your room.

It wasn’t until you had first bumped into him in the hall about a year ago that you even knew of his presence. He’d been so kind and gentle with you that day, helping you up from the ground and guiding you back to your room.

“How did you even manage to sneak out?” He’d asked, and you’d been forced to meekly explain that after many freak outs, Papa instructed workers to leave your door open a crack every night.

You’re insanely claustrophobic, and your room really doesn’t help. You don’t have control over the lights, so it’s almost always dark in there, and it’s such a small, confined space that it makes it hard for you to breathe.

You’d expected him to roll his eyes and scoff like every other person who’d heard the story, but he didn’t. He threw his head back with a laugh, joking that you must have caused a lot of trouble to get Papa to agree to something like that.

He wasn’t far off, but you didn’t feel like going into detail.

He’d guided you into your room, and waited for you to get situated in bed before wishing you goodnight with a wink, and leaving the door open a crack.

The whole interaction left you both flustered and confused, wondering why this absolute stranger had such an effect on you, and why he spoke to you with kindness instead of authority like everyone else did.

You began to notice his presence more often after that. He would always offer to play chess with you in the rainbow room if you seemed bored, sometimes he’d be the one to deliver lunch and dinner to your room, and on occasion he would stay and chat with you for a few minutes.

“On occasion” quickly turned into most times, and “a few minutes” turned into an hour or two. He was easy to befriend, an you both had plenty in common. He made you feel safe, and warm, and dare you say even loved. He’d promised to always be there for you and protect you, and he’d kept that promise. Any time you were threatened with a punishment or put in harms way by another child, he would stick up for you, keep you safe.

So you can’t help but feel like it’s your turn.

Gunshots ring out somewhere in the distance, and you flinch as the screaming around you becomes louder. Another person bumps your shoulder, and this time you’re knocked onto your ass. You groan, covering your head with your arms as you attempt to protect yourself from getting trampled. You’re surrounded by a stampede of incompetent assholes who’ve bossed you around your whole life, and honestly you’re starting to feel more annoyed than scared.

Finally after a few moments the screaming subsides, and you’re left alone in an empty hallway, sitting in the middle of the floor. You shake your head, beginning to pull your aching body up from the ground, until you pause. You hear footsteps coming from the hallway to your right.

You take a moment to listen, registering their movement. They’re not quick paced, scattered, or scared like everyone else. These ones are calm, collected, menacing even. And of course, they’re headed right towards you.

You barely have any time to register this observation before the person rounds the corner in front of you. You make eye contact with them and the tense feeling in your chest dissipates, your shoulders immediately relaxing with a sigh. It’s just Peter.

For a second, he has a wild, crazy look in his eyes, but then it flickers to confusion with furrowed brows, then fear. He’s tense, more tense than you’ve ever seen him. “What are you doing out here?” He sounds frantic, like he didn’t expect to see you here, in this building, that you’ve never left.

“Uhh-” you’re cut off as he lifts you up from the ground by your arm. You yelp, but not in pain, more in surprise than anything as he half escorts, half drags you down the hallway with him. “You’re supposed to be in your room.” He sounds like he’s scolding you.

“I was, until I heard gunshots and screaming. They don’t latch my door Peter, you know that-” you remember the chaos that had surrounded you moments ago, “Hey what’s going on?” He doesn’t respond, whipping his head around as if he’s looking for something, “Peter.” You try again, desperately waiting for an answer.

He only grunts in response, leaving your question unanswered once again. You quickly become fed up, as he drags you down empty hallway after empty hallway. Eventually you pull your arm from his grasp in annoyance, backing away from him. He spins to face you, attempting to snatch your arm but you step back, dodging him.

“Stop it! What the hell is the matter with you? What’s going on?”

He tries to grab your arm again, failing.

“Peter!”

“I’m trying to protect you!” He finally spits out, and your eyebrows furrow, bottom lip beginning to tremble at his tone.

“Protect me from what? Peter, please, you’re scaring me. What’s happening?” His eyes soften significantly as your face falls, and he steps closer to you, lacing his fingers through yours. His thumb delicately strokes the back of your hand and you sniffle, absolutely lost.

“I know, I know you’re scared. But I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” He glances around once again as if to make sure the coast is clear, before looking back down at you, “Just trust me alright?”

You shouldn’t have nodded as quickly as you did. You should have held out a little longer, pestered him with more questions, and refused to go with him until he provided you with the answers that you so desperately wanted. But this was Peter, he’d never given you a reason not to trust him, so how could you start now?

“Good girl.” He squeezes your hand in response before turning on his heel, and dragging you with him. You have very little time to process the affect those words have on you before you slam into his back. He’d stopped abruptly, listening for something. You can’t help but listen too, hearing many sets of footsteps heading down the hall in your direction.

“Shit.” He curses, before quickly pulling you into a room off to the right. He shuts the door behind him, leaving the two of you in almost pitch black, the only lighting coming from the small glass panel on the door. You stay completely silent as the footsteps rush past you. In all honesty they sound like guards. But why would you being hiding from the guards?

He turns to you once they pass, gripping your wrists firmly in his hands to gather your full attention. “I need you to listen to me,” he speaks in a hushed tone and you nod, “I’m going to go back out.”

Your brows feel like they’ve just been permanently furrowed in confusion, because why in the actual fuck would he want to go back out there? You feel yourself shaking your head before he can even finish his explanation.

“No…no you can’t Peter.” He releases your wrists, gently cupping your face in his hands.

“I’m going to go back out there,” he repeats slowly, “and you’re going to stay here.” You almost burst out laughing at that. You? Stay here? Absolutely not.

“No.” You shake your head, “No way- not happening. At least let me go with you, I can protect you!” You try to reason and he chuckles, like you had just said something so unbelievably adorable and he found it endearing.

“I appreciate the thought darling but I don’t need you putting yourself in harms way. I can protect myself.” You cross your arm’s defiantly, twisting your head out of his grip.

“Well if you leave, I’m sure as hell not staying-” you glance around, trying to figure out exactly where the two of you are. It looks like another bedroom, which is the last place you want to stay, and he must know that, “-in here!”

He sighs, backing away from you and towards the door. “Please don’t make this more difficult than it has to be.”

You’re staring to become angry now. Angry that he thinks he can keep you in here. Angry that he thinks that this situation is more difficult for him than it is for you. Angry that he’s not giving you any information other than the fact that you “need to trust him.”

“If you leave this room I’m coming with you, end of story. Now get out of my way.” You huff, wishing he would stop trying to boss you around. You try to push past him to get to the door but he doesn’t budge. You try again and still, nothing. With the way he’s looking at you he almost seems amused, and that pisses you off.

You extend your arm, ready to shove him to the side with your powers, but before you’re even given the chance, you’re slammed up against the wall, being held up by nothing but air. It knocks the wind out of you and you wheeze, looking up at him in shock.

What the fuck?

“Do not-” he looks irritated, the wild look in his eyes returning as he steps towards you, fingers reaching out to firmly grasp your chin, “Do not ever use your powers on me. Do you understand?” Your eyes widen and you nod frantically, regretting even thinking about it. This is not the Peter you know, and you’re afraid to set him off even further. So many questions run through your head, unable to process them all at once.

Is he just like you? How is he doing this? Is he going to hurt you? Are you going to be left here alone? What if-

He watches you carefully as you tremble under his touch, knowing that your brain must be moving a mile a minute. The last thing he wanted to do was reveal his powers to you like this, but he has no other choice. If you aren’t going to listen, he’s going to have to force you to. His hand slips from your chin to cradle your cheek, and you whimper in fear.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbles apologetically, “I’m sorry but you give me no choice. I’m not letting you out there.” He slowly steps away from you, “I need to keep you safe.” He makes his way towards the door and your eyes widen.

“No- Peter don’t you dare. Don’t you fucking dare!” You’re angry, but your voice comes out frantic and scared. You attempt to flail your limbs in an effort to escape, but to no avail.

He pauses in the doorway for a moment, contemplating letting you come with him, but that thought quickly diminishes and he shakes his head. He knows you’d be even more upset if you knew what he’s about to do. He glances at you over his shoulder, “I’ll be back, I promise.”

The door shuts behind him and you drop to the ground, hard. Your knees smack on the tile, but you pay no mind as you scramble up towards the door. You try to tug on the handle but it doesn’t budge, as expected. You don’t even try to use your powers to open it, you know it won’t work, it never does. You pound your fists on the steel door, beginning to panic.

“No… no no no Peter please! Please don’t leave me here! I-I can’t- it’s dark and- I can’t do it- please!” Thankfully he’s still there, watching you with sad eyes through the glass panel.

“I know you’re mad at me, but I’m only doing this to protect you.”

You open your mouth to beg him again, but you’re cut off by the abrupt sound of yelling and gunshots. And just like that he’s gone from your view. You cry out, slamming your fists against the door until they’re bruised and bloody.

There’s no way. There’s no way any of this is actually happening right now. You pinch yourself, attempting to will the screams and gunshots away by waking up, but you don’t. This isn’t a dream, if anything it’s a living waking nightmare and you’re trapped in it.

Literally.

You bang on the door in one last attempt to be let out, before collapsing onto the floor in a heap of panic. It’s so loud, everything is so loud and the room is so small and you can’t fucking breathe. You find yourself scrambling back into the corner by the bed, covering your ears with your hands.

It feels like the room is closing in on you inch by inch, like you’re about to get crushed between the walls while the war outside rages on.

But then it stops. It all stops.

Not your panic, god no. If only it could be that easy, but you do hold your breath as everything outside the door— no everything in the facility stills. The screams have stopped, the echoing of bullets have faded, and all that’s left the sounds of your wheezing. You want to get up and peek outside the door but your legs aren’t exactly working right now.

But the silence must be a good thing right? Surely whatever caused the disturbance is gone?

All you can do is take deep breaths and hope that someone will find you soon, someone will come to your rescue and let you out of this godforsaken room. Those hopes however, are soon crushed as your eyes trail under the door, watching as blood begins to slowly seep under the crack.

Oh god.

Everything stopped,

Because everyone is dead.

Everyone is dead and nobody is ever going to know that you’re trapped in here. You’re going to be locked in this room forever, and nobody is ever going to find you. And Peter- Oh god what if he’s dead too?

A broken sob leaves your lips as you curl in on yourself, whole body trembling. You’re spiraling completely out of control, you can feel your heart hammering in your chest, against your ribs, in your throat, in your head. You can feel it in your ears, it doesn’t matter if you cover them, it doesn’t matter how hard you clench your jaw and push your hands against your ears, you can hear it.

Your breaths are quick, sharp— never really getting enough air. Your lungs burn. You feel dizzy. Fear clings to your chest, to your teeth, to your hands. You don’t even register the loud, broken cries that leave your mouth. Surely nobody will hear them anyway, what do you care?

Your vision blurs, fluttered and unfocused. Soon enough there are tears in your eyes, in your nose, in your throat. You’re crying, terrified, pulling the collar of your gown away from your skin, trying to get enough air in.

That’s how Peter finds you. He approaches the door carefully, wincing as he sees the body pressed up against the door, and hears your desperate cries from inside. He knows you’re claustrophobic, and he hated every second that he had to leave you in there, but once again, he had no choice.

He kicks the body of the guard away in disgust, before slowly pulling open the door. Light finally shines into the room, but you don’t even notice, too focused on trying not to pass out. He spots your trembling body in the corner, curled into the fetal position as you claw at your gown, trying to breathe properly.

“Oh sweetheart…” he sighs, stepping over the trail of blood leading into the room. Any other person would likely start panicking themselves after witnessing your state, but Peter has dealt with this a couple times before.

There was one time another orderly had gotten angry with you, and locked you in your room for the night. When Peter had found you the next morning, everything had been broken and likely thrown across the room. You had sat in the middle of it all in anguish, fresh tears rolling down your cheeks.

You hadn’t gotten a lick of sleep that night. He’d held you in his arms for roughly an hour that day, gently calming you down until you passed out from pure exhaustion. Peter was so angry. So angry that he wanted to kill that orderly with his bare hands for what he’d done to you.

Who could’ve known that it would eventually happen?

He gently kneels down in front of you, staying a few feet back as to not make you feel trapped. His eyes scan over your trembling form and he feels guilt wrack through his whole body. He begins to speak softly, trying to verbally pull you from your panic until you’re calm enough to be held,

“I know, I know you’re scared baby, but I’m here. Just breath and listen to my voice, I’m right here.“

Your face twists into one of confusion when you hear a voice. At first you think you’re imagining it, but it doesn’t go away. It’s muffled and far away, but then it gets louder, closer. In fact it’s beginning to sound like-

“You’re okay sweetheart.”

You snap your head up, tear-blurred eyes searching for the culprit like a deer in headlights, until they finally rest on the figure in front of you,

“P-Peter?” You choke out. It hardly sounds like your voice at all, it’s strangled and raw and it’s forced out between rapid breaths. He tries to hide the way he winces, providing you with a small smile instead, though you can hardly see it through your tears.

“It’s me darling.”

Normally he would have to ask you if you want to be held, but this time you don’t even give him the chance to. You quickly scramble up from your spot on the ground, before hurling yourself into his arms with a broken cry. Right now you don’t even care that he’s the reason you’re so distraught, you’re just glad that he’s okay.

He’s quick to wrap his body around yours, sitting against the wall and cradling you against him. You bury your face in the junction where his neck and shoulder meet, muffling your heartbreaking sobs, “I didn’t- I couldn’t- I thought you were d-de-”

He shushes you gently, cradling the back of your head as you weep into his neck. His other hand is placed on your back, his fingers slowly gliding up and down your spine.

“I’m okay, I’m not going anywhere. I’ve got you.” He turns, placing a kiss in your hair, “I need you to take some deep breaths for me though okay? In through your nose, out through your mouth.”

You try your best to follow his instructions, struggling for the first few minutes, but he’s patient with you. He so patient with you, in fact, that he lets your tears and snot stain his shirt. Though in hindsight that’s not saying much, considering it’s already covered in blood.

You finally manage to suck in a breath, and he praises you, continuing to guide you through it until your breathing is finally back on track. Your tears haven’t quite subsided yet as you pull back from his grip to face him, hands resting around his neck.

“W-why did you leave me?” You sniffle, “You know I can’t- I hate-” you can’t even get the words out before another sob wracks through your body.

“Shhh…” He pulls you back towards him, cradling your face in his hands as he rests his forehead against yours, “I know baby, I know. I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to leave you here, but I had no other choice.” He grips your chin gently, lifting your head up so your eyes meet his, “You’re the most important thing in the world to me. I don’t know what I’d do if you got hurt.”

You sniffle, nodding your head as you attempt to understand his reasoning, still not really understanding why he left in the first place. “I-I was so scared. I didn’t know if you were hurt…I-I thought I was gonna be stuck in here.” He’s shaking his head before you can even finish, wiping the tears from your face with the pads of his thumbs. He gently grasps one of your wrists, guiding your hand to his chest, placing it over his heart,

“You feel that?” He asks, and you nod, feeling the gentle thump of his heart beating against his chest. It’s calm, collected, like he knows everything is going to be fine, “I’m alright. I promise. I would never leave you alone if I didn’t think I would be okay.”

You nod again, sniffling as he continues to hold your hand in his, examining it. He frowns, seeing how beaten and battered it is, wasting no time to grab the other one, examining that one as well. He tuts, looking up at you in pity,

“You poor thing-” he lifts your hand up to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on each knuckle, before doing the same with the other one. Your heart flutters in your chest as he does. How he manages to be so calm and soft with you in a moment like this will forever baffle you. He’s always been like this with you, when nobody else was. He’s so sweet, and kind, and gentle, and-

He’s covered in blood.

You’re pushing away from him before he can even try to stop you. Your scramble up from the floor, backing yourself against the opposite wall.

“Whose blood is that?”

He stands, hands outstretched like he’s trying not to frighten a baby deer. “Darling-”

“Peter…whose blood is that?” You ask again, a frightened edge to your tone. He doesn’t answer you.

“Is that why you- you-” your breathing picks up again as you put two and two together, “Is that why you locked me in here? Did you do all this?”

“I did what I had to…” he confesses, carefully taking a step towards you.

“What you had to?!” You let out a hysterical laugh, “I don’t understand I-” you’re trembling again, thinking about all of the screams and the bodies that had been pushing past you not even 30 minutes ago. Are they all dead? Did they all spend the last few seconds of their life fearing the man in front of you? And what about-

“Oh my god Peter, the kids…”

“The kids are fine. They’re all safe.” He’s lying through his teeth, but he has to. If he doesn’t he’s going to lose you completely. You aren’t as strong as he is, you’re softer, more fragile. He has to take that into consideration, otherwise you’ll never forgive him, “They’re all safe in the rainbow room. I made sure of it.”

“But why?” You hiccup, “Why do all this? Why kill everyone?”

He clenches his jaw, wondering if you’re really ready to know. Although, with everything else going on, he figures it’s as good of a time as any. He reaches down, slowly rolling up the sleeve of his perfectly cuffed shirt. You squint your eyes to see what he could possibly be trying to show you and- oh my god.

Your face contorts into shock and you take a step closer to him, making sure your eyes aren’t deceiving you. You furrow your brows, glancing back and forth between it and your own tattoo, lifting your arm to compare them. Sure enough, his 001 perfectly matches the shape and size of the 002 on your wrist.

He watches you carefully, gauging your reaction. “That’s… not possible.” You whisper, and his eyebrow raises in slight amusement.

“No?”

You shake your head, so unbelievably confused. Your whole world- everything you’ve ever known has come crashing down on you in the last hour and you can feel your brain malfunctioning.

“Papa said-”

“That 001 isn’t real? That I don’t exist? That you’re the original?” It almost sounds like he’s taunting you, but when you look up he just looks sad, like he’s disappointed to be telling you this. “I’ve always been here, locked away in this godforsaken place. And I’ll be the first to tell you that I’m no story, I am very much real.”

You’re at a loss for words, unsure of how to process this new information.

“I was once free you know,” you look up at him, curious as to what he means, “I had a life outside of this place, a home. But then he took me away. He took me away from all of it when I was only a child.” He spits, beginning to circle you, as if he’s the predator and you’re his prey.

“He used me, tested on me; he didn’t care how much it would hurt.” You assume he’s talking about Papa. It isn’t news to you that he’s selfish, backstabbing man. “But then, he decided one of me wasn’t enough. He tried to copy me, clone me. And just like that, you were born. And eventually, there were seventeen others, who were all treated with respect- no painful tests, no beatings, no going hungry… and I was locked away. Forced to keep my identity a secret for so many years while…all the little brats got everything they ever needed.”

You flinch at his tone, and he stops behind you. You can feel his gaze eyeing you up and down, unsure if he’s upset with you or not. You’re startled when you feel his hand slip around you, cradling the side of your face, and turning your head to look at him over your shoulder. It’s an awkward position, but the intensity in his eyes is back, and you can’t force yourself to fight him.

“Except for you,” He hums, pressing his body lightly against yours. You feel a heat rise to your cheeks, not being used to this level of closeness with him, “You know what it’s like to be isolated, excluded, unappreciated… you’re different from them. You always have been.” You feel your eyes slowly slipping closed, not from exhaustion, more so letting yourself relax into him as he speaks, taking in every word.

“You’re so special, and much more powerful than the rest of them. Almost as powerful as me, you just haven’t realized it yet.” You don’t really believe it, but it feels nice to hear. It feels nice to finally have someone notice and appreciate you after all this time.

“I did this so I can be free again… so we can be free.” Your eyes peel open once more, confusion written all over your face. You? Free? That’s something you’ve never really known.

“Me?” You whisper timidly and he nods. You frown, spinning to face him, “You mean… we’re leaving?”

He nods again, a soft knowing smile resting on his face. Of course leaving would be scary for you. You’ve lived your entire life here, and now you’re being asked to leave it all behind for him. “I want you by my side.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, processing all of this. You’d never seen the outside world before, and frankly you’ve never given it much thought at all. But with Peter it couldn’t be so bad right?

“I-I don’t know if-”

He steps even closer, pressing his body completely against yours, and you’re cut off by your own surprised gasp as you look up at him. He smirks, seemingly knowing the affect he has on you.

“Oh but there’s so many things you’re missing out on sweetheart. So many things you’d never be allowed to experience here.” You gulp, widening eyes never leaving his as you chew on your bottom lip. Curiosity finally gets the better of you and you gather the courage to ask,

“Like what?”

His gaze flickers between your eyes and your lips as he leans down, gently cupping your cheek in his hand, “Like this,” he mumbles, before pressing his soft lips against yours. You can’t help but squeak in surprise as he kisses you, not really knowing what’s happening. He chuckles against your lips, wrapping his other hand around your waist, “Just follow my lead.”

You try you best to keep up, slowly beginning to get the hang of it. You’re loving the feeling of his lips on yours, never wanting it to end. You clench your fists a few times, not really knowing what to do with them, and he takes notice, gently guiding them up and around his neck.

His lips are soft and pillowy against your own, and a warm fuzzy feeling grows in your chest as he tugs you impossibly closer to him. He gently bites down on your bottom lip, soothing it with his tongue before pulling away, resting his forehead against yours while the two of you catch your breath.

It isn’t until the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed that you notice he’s moved the two of you backwards, and you fall onto the mattress.

He slowly crawls on top of you, placing kisses all over your face, your lips, cheeks, forehead, nose… and you’re a giggling mess underneath him. He slowly makes his way down your neck and to your collarbone, tugging on the collar of your gown to gain access.

“Mmm feels- feels so good Peter.” You don’t even think to stop the moans and whimpers that escape your lips while he gently suckles and bites your skin.

“Such pretty noises baby… and they’re all for me? What a sweet little thing you are.” He hums against your skin. Your eyes roll back, hips bucking up involuntarily at his words, and he cooes at you, “You like that hm? You like when I praise you? Such a good girl aren’t you?” You nod frantically, a whine leaving your lips. You don’t really know why you like it, or why you’re reacting like this, but you do know that you don’t want it to stop. You don’t want any of this to stop, no matter where it goes.

His hands slide down your body as he marks up the delicate skin of your neck, groping, feeling every inch of your gorgeous body. His fingertips finally reach the hem of your gown and he lifts his lips from your skin, examining the already fucked-out look on your face.

“Do you want me to take this off of you sweetheart?” He asks, gently tugging on the article of clothing. You look up at him, eyes blown out as you try to come up with a response, “What happens if you do?” You ask timidly.

He smirks, leaning down to peck a kiss against your cheek, “Well, then I’ll get to make you feel good.”

You squint at him, “But you’re already making me feel good?” You say, unsure if you meant for it to be a question or not. He chuckles at your naivety, touching his forehead to yours and pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose, “Mmm but I can make you feel so much better than this. Is that what you want baby?”

You don’t even waste a second, nodding your head frantically, wanting nothing more than for him to give you pleasure. However he’s grabbing your chin lightly before anything else,

“Ah ah ah, let’s use our words. Wanna make sure this is actually what you want.”

And how could it not be? Sure, this is all brand new to you; it’s nerve-wracking and scary even… but it feels so good. There’s an intense pressure building between your legs, and you’d give anything for Peter to make it go away, to make it feel better.

After giving it maybe two seconds of thought, you’re nodding your head again as your lips part, “I-I want this. I want it Peter, promise.” He considers asking if you’re sure, but with the way your lips are pouted, and your eyes are so wide and blown out, he can tell you’re running out of patience.

“Okay sweetheart, okay.” He obliges, slowly lifting the hem of the gown up, helping you slide it up your body and over your head, disposing of it somewhere on the floor. His eyes rake up and down every inch of your exposed skin, taking you in. He practically drools at the sight of your breasts, reaching up to gently fondle them in his hands.

“Oh baby,” he watches as you preen underneath his touches, “You’re perfect. So fucking perfect for me.”

You can’t even imagine how you must look to him right now. Laid underneath him in nothing but a pair of panties, chest heaving, eyes blown wide, and your mind so foggy and blissful as he begins to tug on your nipples. Your hips buck up yet again as he does so, and you react with a whine. You need him so bad, you need to feel him touching you all over.

He chuckles darkly, dipping down to place a kiss to the valley between your breasts, “I’ve got you baby.” One of his hands slowly trails down your tummy, making its way to the hem of your underwear. It startles you with how fast he dips his hand underneath the fabric, swiping two of his fingers through your folds. Your whole body jolts and you gasp in surprise. He slips his hand back out, observing the excessive amount of slick that coats his fingers.

“Mmm look at how wet you are darling, you’ve soaked through your panties entirely. What a messy little thing you are.” He places his fingers between his lips, moaning around them as he cleans his slick coated digits. You can’t help but watch, completely mesmerized by how dirty all of this is. He was right, this is something you’d never in a thousand years be able to experience if you were to stay here. Papa would have be so enraged…but you don’t have care about him. You don’t have to listen to Papa anymore.

He dips down between your legs again, both hands gently tugging your white panties down your legs. You almost feel embarrassed at the way he has to peel the cloth away from your soaked cunt, but he moans at the sight, instantly calming your anxieties.

He watches in awe as your messy cunt pulses, drooling from your tight little hole. He looks up at you, blowing cool air right onto your clit, watching in amusement as your pussy twitches and you whine. You look down at his position, feeling confusion feign through you once again, “What are you doing?” You squeak out, watching his eyes raise to meet yours again, amusement filling them.

“I’m going to make you feel good baby. But first-” He sits up just a little bit to gather your attention, “Hands above your head.” You squint at him, wondering why he could be asking such a thing of you right now. “You heard me darling, go on and put your hands above your head.”

You oblige, lifting them up and over your head, resting them against the pillow. He smiles, placing a delicate kiss you to inner thigh, and your hips buck again in pure desperation. “Good girl, now keep them there for me.”

You don’t have enough time to respond and ask why, before his mouth is on you, devouring your sweet little cunt. The sensation feels so foreign to you, yet is has you writhing around like a crazy person as he eats you out. You whimper and whine as he swipes his tongue from your hole up to your clit.

He loves how noisy you are as he makes out with your soaked cunt. Your moans fill the air as you take everything that’s he’s giving you, and the twisted part inside of him is so grateful that he’s the only one that can hear you. He can’t even stand the thought of someone else hearing you like this, some other guard pleasuring you between your legs as you writhe desperately.

No, these pretty noises and your body are his. All his, and nobody else’s. His tongue laps at your clit before flicking it through your folds, and looking up at you through his lashes. He dips his tongue down to your weepy hole, circling it around the entrance to taste you, and your back arches, grinding down into his face.

“Oh- Oh god Peter! Mmm feels good, feels so good oh fuck!”

That’s right, he thinks, moan my name while I take what’s mine. He knows just how good he’s making you feel, and he’ll continue to make you feel this good over and over again after you leave this place. He’ll have you weak at the knees with every gentle touch, ready to let him use you however he pleases. You’ll be his perfect little pet, needing him all the time, craving to be touched by him, tasted by him, filled by him-

But you’re not ready for that just yet. As much as he wants to see you writhe and moan like a perfect little slut while you take every inch of his cock, he doesn’t want to rush you into anything. This is all about you and your pleasure right now, not his. Though he does find it very pleasurable to be buried face first in your sweet little cunt.

You mewl as he swirls his tongue around your clit while gently suckling on it. Your hole continues to flutter and soak the sheets below you, so he can’t help it when he finds himself slowly rimming it with one of his fingers. He begins to push it inside of you, slowly pressing it in inch by inch, slowly lapping at your clit as he watches your whole body tense up, a broken cry escaping you.

“P-Peter!”

You’re so tight around his finger, and when he finally pushes it knuckle deep he cooes as your whole body trembles in ecstasy. You feel a coil in your lower tummy tightening dangerously, as you feel a high of sorts approaching. Your toes are beginning to curl and— oh god his mouth feels so good on you, sucking and devouring your clit like it’s his last meal.

The way he’s stretching you out on his finger feels otherworldly. If you’d have only known that this level of ecstasy was possible, you would have begged Peter for this a long time ago. And considering how much he’s enjoying this, you can’t help but wonder if he’s wanted this for a while as well.

You’re grinding your hips down to meet his tongue as high pitched whines and moans leave your lips. He can tell you’re getting close, and a wicked thought crosses his mind. He slowly curls his finger upward inside of you, and you cry out so loudly that your body snaps forward, and your hands are gripping his hair. You’re so close, chasing the high as you grip his hair between your trembling fingers.

But then it stops, and you’re pushed back down against the mattress by an unseen force.

“No!” You cry, tears instantly filling your eyes as all of the pleasure is ripped away from you, pulling you back from the edge you were teetering on, “No no no Peter- please!”

He hums waiting a moment to speak as he listens to your begging and whining. He knows how close you were to cumming, but you broke his rule and moved your hands.

“What did I tell you before I started?” He asks patiently, crawling back up your body, hovering over the top of you to see your face. You huff out shaky breaths as you try your best to think past your cloudy mind.

“I-I…I don’t- I can’t-” you stutter out, bottom lip wobbling as a few tears leak from your eyes, feeling everything becoming just a little too much for you.

“Shhh,” he shushes gently, wiping the tears from your face. His thumb moves to caress your temple and you hiccup, “Yes you can. Deep breath for me, c’mon.” You oblige, following his instructions as your chest rises and falls slowly, “You can do it sweetheart, what did I tell you before I started?”

“You-you said…” you press your eyes shut, trying to remember his exact words before he started eating you out so blissfully, “You said… to keep my hands up.”

He smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “My smart girl.” He mumbles, and your skin flushes a deep red at the praise.

“And do you know why I stopped?“ He continues, eyeing you carefully.

“Because I didn’t keep my hands up.” You grumble, he lets it slide for now, knowing you’re still a bit worked up.

“That’s right,” he strokes some of your hair from your face, “You didn’t listen, so I had to stop.”

The pout on your face only grows and you find yourself talking back to him, “But that’s not fair! It-it felt so good and I couldn’t help it! That was so mean and-” you’re cut off as he grips your chin, firmly squeezing your cheeks between his fingers.

“Hey,” he chides, “Where did this attitude come from hm?“

You don’t respond, you can’t really respond with the way he’s holding your face, but he can see in your eyes how your mood immediately shifts, melting for him once again.

“I thought you wanted to be a good girl for me? Cause you’re not being very good right now.” You whimper in response, nodding your head under his grip to show him that you wanna be good again, wanna be perfect for him.

“Yeah? You gonna be good again? Gonna stop giving me attitude?” He releases his grip on your face to let you speak, and you do, pleas falling from your mouth as you tell him just how good you’ll be.

“Think you can keep your hands up here this time baby?” He asks politely, tapping your wrists that rest above your head. You pause for a moment, before shaking your head, wanting to be honest with him.

“I-I don’t think I can…I wanna be good! Honest!” You rush out, “I just- I don’t think I can keep them here.” You pause, chewing on your lip as you try to think of how to ask the next part. Peter watches you closely, feeling like he already knows what you’re about to say, “Can you um- can you maybe help me?”

And god what kind of monster would he be if he didn’t oblige to you. The way you stare up at him through wide bleary eyes, the way you nervously chew on your trembling bottom lip, and the way you asked so sweetly…he can never say no to you.

“Since you asked so politely, yes sweetheart I can do that for you.” You sigh in relief as you feel him slowly climbing back down your body, situating himself between your legs once more. You feel a pressure against your wrists as they are pinned down above your head, and you whimper out a small, “Thank you.”

“Of course darling,” and with that his lips are attached to you again, tongue swirling around your clit mercilessly.

“A-Ah!” You cry out, unable to stop the way your legs are trembling around his head. The relief is so good, he’d left your poor cunt unattended and desperate for the last few minutes, and he intended to make up for it in every way possible.

His slips his finger back inside of you and you squirm underneath him, bucking your hips to fuck yourself on his digit. His finger continues to pump in and out of you as he devours your poor little cunt. Tears prick at your eyes from how fucking good it feels.

You unintentionally try to move your hands every few moments, only to be reminded of the weighted pressure against them, as Peter keeps them constrained with his powers. The feeling of being pinned down beneath him as he pleasures you only makes everything more intense, and you can feel that familiar pressure building up once more.

Fear creeps in at the thought of him repeating what happened last time you felt that pressure building, and you begin to mindlessly beg, “Mmmm please don’t stop- god don’t stop Peter. I-I’ll be good, I promise I’ll be good just please don’t stop.” You cry out, chasing your high again as you buck against his tongue.

And god he wouldn’t dream of it, in fact, he suckles on your clit even harder, slowly pushing another finger into your hole, desperately wanting you to come undone on his tongue.

The stretch around his fingers is what finally pushes you over the edge, and your back arches high as your orgasm tears through you like a white hot heat. You cry and your eyes roll back into your head as intense waves of pleasure shoot through your body. You’re rocking your hips desperately against his tongue, just riding it out.

He hums around your clit as you clench and pulse around his fingers, continuing to thrust them deep in your cunt as you ride out the high. He doesn’t stop until your back finally meets the mattress again, and your a panting sweating mess.

“God just look at you,” He slowly pulls his fingers from your hole, admiring the aftermath of your ruined pussy, “So good for me, look at how much you came.”

You whimper in response, letting his praise infiltrate your floaty, fucked out mind. You feel the weight let up on your wrists, but you keep them there, absentmindedly fearing his wrath. It isn’t until they’re lifted from their position, and gentle kisses are placed along your wrists that you open your eyes, meeting his fiery blue ones.

“There she is.” He smiles down at you, stroking your cheek. You smile back at him, still feeling floaty and euphoric.

“Hi…” you whisper, and he chuckles, admiring how cute you are like this.

“Hi.” He responds, utterly amused, “How was that?”

You hum in delight, nodding your head. “I don’t think I could ever get enough of that.” A smirk creeps onto his face at your answer, as he studies your naked body beneath him.

He’s done it, he’s finally done it. He’s going to leave this living hell, and he’s going to do it with you exactly where he wants you. Wrapped around his finger, and well, eventually his cock. And god he can’t wait for the day he’ll finally get to ruin and defile you.

“Peter?” You ask timidly, cutting off his thoughts. He hums in response, “Thank you.” You genuinely mean that, and he knows it.

“You’re welcome darling.”

Oh yeah, you’re his now, and he’s never letting you go.

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petersprincesss · 2 years

Text

You’re in Trouble Now

Hi again!

This was requested by @marniscoffee on my one-shots of Peter Ballard post. You can find it and make a request here.

I will be responding to all requests and should have them up sometime this week, I will tag you in yours!

I thought someone else requested this exact number and genre as well, so if that was you and I have forgotten to tag you, please forgive me, I couldn’t find it anywhere!

OKAY!

Genre: smut

Rating: R? ig? Explicit? It’s smut, okay?

Tags: dom/sub, dom Peter Ballard, choking, edging, orgasm denial/delay, general kinky shit idk

Smut Below the Cut!

“Is this a game to you, Y/N?” Dr. Brenner quizzed you, bringing his eyes down to your level, your noses less than an inch from touching.

You were seated in a metal chair inside one of the children’s training rooms being scolded by Dr. Brenner for not following his endlessly strict protocol. A single tear slipped from your eye and cascaded down your cheek, your bottom lip curling into an unsettled frown.

“No, sir,” you winced. You were sorry, but only that you had been caught. You didn’t understand why he was so uptight about every miniscule detail.

You heard a click, followed by the creak of the door opening behind you. Peter stepped through the entrance and to the side, careful not to interrupt your interrogation. Your cheeks grew hot as you thought about the idea of him watching you be punished. Your eyes drifted over your shoulder in attempts to find his, but Dr. Brenner grabbed your chin and restricted you to looking only at him.

“I don’t want to hear about anything like this happening ever again, do you understand me?” He spat.

“Yes sir,” you replied submissively.

“Good,” he remarked, letting go of your chin and rising to his full height, “I’ve asked Peter to keep a close eye on you for the time being. We can’t handle any little slip ups, so I want you to rely on his discipline to keep you in check. I advise that you do whatever he recommends without question.”

The air in your lungs was practically sucked out of you. Dr. Brenner had to have known how you pined for Peter. He had to have seen the way you looked into Peter’s cerulean eyes, the way your irises flickered whenever Peter entered a room, or how your chest heaved by merely being close to him. Dr. Brenner had to have known that this was the perfect punishment for you specifically.

“I will, sir,” you promised. Your heartbeat began to crowd the inside of your chest as if it was going to expel itself from behind your ribs.

Dr. Brenner opened the door to exit, remarking to Peter as he passed, “I leave her in your hands now.”

With that, the two of you were now alone. You were finally able to turn around to look at your new overseer, and his apathetic stare did not provide any comfort. Something about his hardened, domineering stance caused your stomach to flutter, your body quivering from more than just your pathetic sobs.

“What did you do?” Peter asked, his tone detached and distant.

“I just- I gave one of the kids-” you began, but your breath hitched under your tears, your dismay of your interaction with your boss weighing too heavily over you.

“Spit it out,” Peter ordered, stepping behind the seat you were perched on, placing his hands on either side of the back of the chair.

“I gave number four a piece of candy,” you sniveled, wiping a tear from your cheek with the sleeve of your cardigan.

“I see. And why don’t we do that?”

“Because only Dr. Brenner is allowed to reward the children.”

“That’s right. You know better,” Peter commended you with a patronizing tone.

“I just felt bad for him because he-” you started to speak, but you were cut off by Peter snatching a fistfull of your hair and yanking it backwards. You closed your eyes in shock, knowing that as soon as you opened them, his sapphire irises would be boring into yours.

“You know the rules. We obey them no matter what.”

“Yes sir,” you responded instinctively.

Peter let out a scoff from behind you and released your hair, allowing your head to bow back forward.

“You know,” he spoke, gliding effortlessly around in front of you, his hands clasped behind his back, “I kind of like hearing you call me sir.”

Your gaze shot up to meet him as he circled to a stop. He was not the sweet and caring orderly you had been working with all this time any longer. He was now your possessor, and the heat growing between your legs confirmed that you wanted nothing more. You craved nothing more than for him to do exactly as he pleased with you.

“That’s how I want you to refer to me from now on. No matter where we are, no matter who can hear you, that’s who I am to you now. Understood?”

“Yes sir.”

“Good. Are you going to be good for me while you’re under my command?” Peter inquired. Although he spoke so matter-of-factly, you felt that he was genuinely asking you, and you knew your response would determine how he would treat you whenever the two of you engaged with one another.

“Yes, sir, I am,” you responded. You felt as though “yes sir” and “no sir” were beginning to make up your entire vocabulary. Under Peter’s control, you didn’t care. You didn’t need any other words.

“That’s my girl. Do you know what good girls get?”

Your fingers kneaded together anxiously, your mind racing with possibilities, lustful desires of what you wanted to get for being Peter’s good girl.

“No sir. Please tell me what good girls get.”

Peter chuckled arrogantly, “I don’t want to tell you. I want to show you. Stand up.”

You obeyed him without question, rising to your feet. The crown of your head lined up perfectly beneath his nose. Turning your face up to him, you felt his heated breath ease down your cheeks.

Peter didn’t waste a costly second putting his palms on your shoulders, guiding you around the chair and backwards against the door he entered from moments earlier. Holding you there firmly, Peter bit his bottom lip, surveying his prized possession. You felt your ribcage expand and compress at a rate that nearly caused concern, but your mind couldn’t stray from the filthy appetite you had worked up.

“If you’re going to be a good girl,” Peter whispered, his lips grazing against your earlobe, “you’re going to have to be very quiet.”

You stifled a moan, biting into your lip with such a force you nearly drew blood. Your eyes rolled back into your head as you nodded, the back of your skull rubbing against the dull, off-white door behind you.

Peter’s hand left your shoulder and trailed down to your knees, his fingertips slowly pulling up the hem of your white skirt. His palm rested flat atop your thigh before it snaked upward, pushing your uniform up and exposing you. He was ready to hook his fingers around your undergarments when he discovered that you weren’t wearing any.

“Y/N?” He said, his touch suddenly frozen. Your stomach dropped, knowing he had discovered your risqué secret.

“Y-yes?” You responded, squeezing your eyes shut tight, an erotic shame piling inside you.

“Are you not wearing any panties?”

“No, sir.”

Peter flashed a naughty grin at you. He knew you wanted to play his game, but he was surprised to discover that you might have been dirtier than he was.

“Such a little slut,” he breathed, struggling to contain his excitement.

Peter brought one hand up to your neck and applied pressure just firmly enough on either side of your neck that your heartbeat thumped in your brain. With his free hand, he reached down and slid his zipper open, removing himself from his pleated white trousers. You smiled at him feverishly, too aroused to play his game of cat and mouse. His hold on your neck shifted as he brought his thumb up to meet your bottom lip, pulling it down slightly.

“Are you ready for me, Y/N?”

“Yes, sir. Please,” you begged.

“Good,” he declared. His hand moved from himself to the back of your thigh, raising it upward so that your skirt rose over your hip bones and allowed him access to your center.

Peter dove into you swiftly, bottoming out on his first thrust. Your spine arched back and your mouth fell agape, ready to release an agonizingly pleasured moan, but you remembered Peter’s demand that you stay silent. You swallowed your expression, releasing a wave of goosebumps down your arms to your fingertips. Peter was larger than you had expected, and your body nearly buckled under his form. Your palm grasped onto his shoulder desperately, your nails digging into his skin.

“Fuck, Y/N” Peter grunted, fighting to keep his composure. Hearing your name leave his lips in such a trance nearly sent you over the edge, and he hadn’t even been inside you for a full minute yet. Your foot lifted, heightening you to resting on the tips of your toes. Peter’s clutch on your opposite leg tensed, pulling you further up onto him. He pushed into you with such intensity, never permitting either of you to question exactly where his priorities lay.

Feeling your tireless efforts to keep yourself open for him, Peter released his grip on your neck and tugged your still-standing leg upwards so that you were now wholly supported by his strength and the pressure of the door pushing against your back. Your ankles crossed behind his back, your heels prodding him like a horse, sheepishly demanding that he keep his pace.

Although not outwardly moaning, your heavy breaths were far from quiet, and the gentle gaps between them provided just enough silence for Peter to hear a pair of footsteps approaching on the opposite side of the door. Peter clasped his hand over your mouth, hurriedly muffling your aching breaths and dropping your leg back to the floor.

“Not a fucking peep, you understand me?” Peter directed. A vein in his forehead made itself visible between his once compassionate brows.

You nodded in response, your eyes widening before rolling back into your head, feverishly flickering your vision. The footsteps grew and receded briskly. The passer-by may not have heard your sensual groans, but it would be hard for anyone to ignore the rattling of the door that Peter hastily pounded you into. Once he was certain the presence was gone, Peter released your lips and you gulped for air salaciously. His mouth dove for your neck, nibbling skillfully at your pulse. With his mouth in such close proximity to your ear, his greedy huffs ringing through your brain.

“Sir, I’m going to-”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Peter threatened before biting into your neck.

“Y- yes, si-”

“You better fucking ask for permission before you do.”

You could feel Peter straining inside you. The mere mention of you reaching climax only edged him further to his own.

“Please, sir, please! I need to cum.”

“I know you do, baby. Cum with me. Now.”

Peter’s empty hand clamped around your ribcage before skimming up your chest, kneading your rounded flesh. Between the building pressure in your abdomen, his eager consumption of your pulse and the iron tight grasp on your chest, you slipped briskly over the edge without question.

“God, fucking-” you seethed between your teeth, your chest convexing up towards the ceiling.

Peter made no attempts to conceal his satisfaction, primal, guttural moans flowing from him without hesitation.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N” he panted as he slowed, his hips jerking at random, uncontrolled intervals.

You reached up and tenderly cupped his face in your hand, your fingertips traveling up towards his sweat-drenched forehead. His climax reaching an end, Peter planted a dainty kiss on the tip of your nose. Nothing mattered in this moment except for the blonde orderly before you, still caressing your tired figure.

“You know, you should piss off Dr. Brenner more often,” he smirked. You couldn’t help but smile back, drunk on his effortless eroticism.

“I just might have to now.”

#peter ballard #peter ballard x reader #peter ballard x y/n #peter ballard x you #peter ballard smut #001 #001 x you #001 x reader #001 x y/n #001 smut #henry creel #henry creel x reader #henry creel x you #vecna #stranger things #jamie bower #jamie campbell bower #fics #my work

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