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#peter brenner x reader
writerscafehub · 6 months
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𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑❜𝐒 𝐂𝐀𝐅𝐄 𝐎𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
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c /づ づ 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐄 all the works made by the very talented members of the writer's café server in the month of OCTOBER. we ask, and highly encourage, that you reblog them in support. ♡
ALL WORKS ARE FOR THOSE 18+ ONLY.
𖥔 indicates smut
✶ indicates dark elements
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By ☁︎☽ Cocoa ☁︎☽ @cocoamoonmalfoy @darksideofthecocoamoon
𖥔 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐇𝐈𝐌 - 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟕 | god of spring!timothee chalamet
Part seven of the crown him series
✶ 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐀 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈'𝐋𝐋 𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐃𝐀𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐑 | the beast
Imagine a twisted beauty and the beast. Reverse kidnapping: I’m in your house and I’m not leaving
𖥔 𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐃 | bard!timothee chalamet
An unlikely trio on an impossible quest pick up a stray along the way
𖥔 ✶ 𝐂𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐓 | soft!dark!king hal
Hal could sympathize with Hades, for after seeing the light of life, how could he not pin it close to his darkness
𖥔 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐄 | king hal
Hal finds that sitting for his portrait isn’t bad at all
𝐓𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐎𝐑 | prince hal
Disowned or not, the son of the king needed to be protected
By ★ Jen ★ @jen-with-a-pen
𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐃 𝐔𝐏 - 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄 | art student!frat brother!steve rogers
Steve can’t remember what happened last night, but his body sure does. Regret is the worst hangover of all - even more so when you can’t remember what you regret
✶ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐘 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐓 | bucky barnes
Being held captive and experimented on definitely wasn’t in your job description. After what seems like months in HYDRA captivity, rescue finally arrives - but what is rescue if not relief from suffering.
By 𖠰 Nat 𖠰 @the-iceni-bitch
𖥔 ✶ 𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐄'𝐒 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐘𝐇𝐄𝐌 | kinktober masterlist
Prepare yourselves for a month filled with wicked and scandalous delights, with vicious and freakish lovers for whatever type of monster you may fancy
By ❈ Beanie ❈ @shadeysprings
𖥔 ✶ 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐓 | kinktober masterlist
Four stories with captivatingly dark themes
𖥔 ✶ 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐎𝐑 𝐍𝐎 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐋 | dark!pete brenner
You work hard to entice the biggest possible client for your company, but he has his own ideas for you to make you say yes
𖥔 ✶ 𝐍𝐎 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐁𝐘𝐄𝐒 | dark!ransom drysdale
Ransom makes it known why breaking up with him is wrong.
𖥔 ✶ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐎𝐍 𝐈𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐘 | priest!lee boedecker
The new priest of your church asks you to sing for him.
𖥔 ✶ 𝐍𝐎 𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐎𝐔𝐓 | serial killer!lee boedecker
With the serial killer targeting boys, you thought you were safe. Until you weren’t.
By ❥ Courtney ❥ @chasingmidnights
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 | thirteen nights of halloween masterlist
13 Nights of Halloween and each night is going to be a different (what I'm calling) "campfire stories". Each story is going to be told by a different character ranging from Chris Evans characters to Sebastian Stan characters to Marvel Characters. Make sure to take a look at the Intro to meet the various characters! So, gather around the fire and try not to get too scared.
By ⚔︎ Suz ⚔︎ @targaryenvampireslayer
𖥔 𝐇𝐀𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 | ghost!bucky barnes
Bucky was taken from you by HYDRA a year ago. You mourn him and miss him, until you start dreaming of him… until he starts coming back to you
By ✵ Selene ✵ @fluffyprettykitty
𖥔 𝐒𝐀𝐌 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐒𝐊 | sugar daddy!sam wilson
Quick and dirty sugar daddy Sam Drabble.
By 𖤛 Roo 𖤛 @darkficsyouneveraskedfor
✶ 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐋𝐔𝐉𝐀𝐇 | yelena belova
You find a stranger at your door, a visitor you can’t make leave
✶ 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐊𝐄 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐀 𝐂𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄 | kraven the hunter
You catch the eye of a mysterious man who shares an unexpected secret with you
By ☆ Stella ☆ @a-lumos-in-the-nox
✶ 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐃
A group of friends decide to explore the haunted house on the shortcut back to campus. Ignoring the 'No Trespassing' signs. They ease drop in on a meeting between beings, mortals have never lived to tell tales about. And find out the consequences of ease dropping on the annual Hallows Eve meeting.
𖥔 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀𝐋𝐏𝐇𝐀𝐁𝐄𝐓 | druig and makkari and female!oc
The kink alphabet for the threesome
𖥔 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐍𝐎𝐖 | druig and female!oc
Reader is horny but won’t do anything about it because she is busy doing other things. But her husband who can read minds can hear her inner struggle and does something about it.
𖥔 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 | druig and makkari and female!oc
Makkari has a surprise field trip for Juni and Druig. They don’t know where they are going. It is her turn to pick where they meet up this time.
By ☄︎ Ellie ☄︎ @mrsmischief209
𖥔 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 |
Introduction to Kinktober
𖥔 𝐒𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃 | billy russo
Inspired by the song ‘Slow Hand’ by the Pointer Sisters
✶𖥔 𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓'𝐒 𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓 | softdark!frank castle
Inspired by the song ‘Breath’ by Breaking Benjamin
By ☪︎ Gina ☪︎ @slvttyfied
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒 - 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄 | chef!ari levinson
Cause baby I can build a castle out of all the bricks they threw at me and every day is like a battle but every night with us is like a dream
By ✯ Vic ✯ @sunflowersteves
𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 - 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐁𝐉 | carmen berzatto
Carmen knew you were a bit inexperienced, so what better way than to show you how?
By ⚘ Akane ⚘ @haravath0t
𖥔 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐅𝐔𝐋 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 | college au!alhaitham
College AU headcanon
By ⎈ Navy ⎈ @navybrat817
𖥔 ✶𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄 | various SS and CE characters
One shots and ficlets for the month of October
𖥔 𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐕𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐄 | bucky barnes
You want Bucky in your mouth. Simple as that.
By ✍︎ Em ✍︎ @writing-for-marvel
𖥔 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 | mob!bucky barnes
Newlyweds Mob!Bucky and wife!reader explore Europe and each other during their honeymoon.
By ❀ Ali ❀ @flordeamatista
𖥔 ✶ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | various SS and CE characters
Kinktober inspired by tarot cards and their auras
𖥔 𝐒𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 | lee boedecker
A tale of your wicked deeds.
𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐅𝐎𝐖𝐋𝐄𝐑 𝐆𝐈𝐅𝐒𝐄𝐓
By 𐀔 Alex 𐀔 @thecutestlittlebunbunfairy
𖥔 𝐁𝐔𝐍 𝐁𝐔𝐍'𝐒 𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐎𝐏𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 | masterlist
Spooky season stories heavily inspired by Hozier’s album, ‘Eat Your Young’
𖥔 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 | rockstar!sam/steve/bucky
When your friends invite you to a rock show and the drummer invites you back to his hotel room, you might get more than you bargained for yet…
By ✬ Astro ✬ @astrorogers
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑 | wanda maximoff
The Scarlet Witch has arrived which means her familiar must finally reunite with her.
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐍 | wanda maxinoff
Wanda teaches kitten about Halloween
𖥔 𝐒𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐀 𝐀𝐒𝐊 | mistress!wanda maximoff
Mistress!Wanda x sub!kitten reader smut
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jamilelucato · 2 years
Text
blue - 001
show: Stranger Things [SPOILERS FOR SEASON 4]
pairing: female reader x peter ballard
summary: growing up in the lab with Dr Brenner for a father wasn't easy, but you had a friend that made things a bit tolerable.
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It wasn’t easy being the daughter of Dr Martin Brenner, but you did your best to please him. He was a very systematic man, who wished to control everything and everyone as he saw fit, and you had no problem following orders, except that it was clear your father was setting you up for failure. He never made a secret that he did not like that you were born a female, not a male, and you guessed that was the reason behind all of his impossible requests he kept on making, always wanting more of your brain than it could ever learn.
That was the reason why you grew old in his lab in Hawkins— he expected you to follow him around like a loyal dog, and you were generally making notes on the things you saw in there.
It was no surprise to you when he asked for your presence to see something that had arrived at the lab. “A new subject,” he had called the boy, not as if dad was king and, the boy, his commoner, but as if the boy was a school subject, as it was what your father envisioned the boy to be to you.
“Come on in, daughter,” he said, getting up from where he was sitting. “This is number one.”
You walked in slowly, scared. You were barely ten, but smarter than most teens, but at that moment, you felt like a little dear, scared for his life. You stared at the boy sitting in front of where your father was and you were shocked to find a calm boy. You expected to see someone as scared as you, or even more, but no. Number 001, as your father called him, was serene, and he stared back at you like he could see your very soul.
“Number one, this is my daughter, [y/n] Brenner,” your father made the room so you could sit in the chair he once sat in. “Get familiar with her, as she is to be your future doctor, once she graduates.”
The boy stared back at your father. His head movement was weird as if he was used to having some hair to move when looking up, but there was no hair on top of his head, just his buzzcut.
“I’ll let you two get to know each other, as I’m sure my daughter can enlighten you about who I am,” was the last thing your father said before leaving and locking the door behind.
You gulped, forcing yourself to stop facing the door and look back at the boy.
He looked your age, maybe just a bit older. 
“My name is not one,” he said, breaking the silence with a rasping voice.
“I’m sorry?”
He smiled, not showing his teeth. It was as if he found pleasure in seeing you confused.
“My name’s Henry.”
“Was,” you corrected him because that was expected. You knew that even though your father left, he could be watching you two, by the mirror windows or even the cameras. You learned long ago that they were everywhere in the lab. “You’re not Henry anymore.”
“I suppose you’re right.”
Then, the quietness came again. No one uttered a word. You were still nervous, gulping by the second, but the boy just laid back, watching. You didn’t like the silence, it made you overthink.
“You can call me just by [y/n], you know,” you said.
“Not a doctor then?”
“Oh, as much as my Papa likes to brag, I’ll only graduate high school next year. I still have a while before getting hold of my doctored degree.”
“Graduating high school?” that seemed to surprise him.
You couldn’t help but smile. It was a hard life, studying like crazy and not ever getting complimented, but you liked knowing you were a genius. “I am young as I look, but as my father’s daughter, I must be at the top of not just my class, but everyone else’s.”
“Must be exhausting,” he replied, looking away. 
He wasn’t expecting you to agree in a whisper. “It is.”
Both of you exchanged a knowing look. Maybe there was not much knowledge of each other, but there was of yourselves. You knew you weren’t gonna have an easy life, and he knew he was destined for one difficult as well. Doomed, was the word, but back then, you didn’t know. You just didn’t know.
~~
“Sorry I’m late, P,” you said, sitting down on the white floor.
Everything was white at that goddam lab, but you were used to it, or at least, it didn’t bother you as much as it did in the beginning. 
Your friend Henry, or as you nicknamed him Peter, was the Number 001, and he was already in the room, sitting on the floor at the very same spot you two had found for each other. It was nice being able to just sit on the ground, and not care about getting dirty, as if there was any chance of that happening in the lab. It was simple and it put you two on the same level, which was true even if your papa wouldn’t agree.
Before getting your doctorate, you and Henry were not much of friends, although you supposed you were each other’s closest person in each life. Peter had access to the other kids, the other numbers, but they were just babies, while you spent your life alone, guided solely by Dr Brenner, your father. It was lonely for both of you, and once you had your degree in your hands, you decided to get closer to the boy who was always staring you around when you came down to the lab.
At first, your father did not approve of your specialization in psychology, but once he started filling the lab with children, he realized your diploma was very much in need, and he gave you a room, so you could listen and take notes on each of the kids’ complaints.
And even though number 001 was no longer a kid, he still had a scheduled hour with you, every Tuesday and Thursday.
When he walked in, for his first appointment ever, you were as nervous as he was shocked to see you. You had only turned eighteen, but he was about to be nineteen, and a lot had changed. Yeah, you saw each other grow up, but not as frequently as the hearts would hope, and a lot had changed.
You were one of them now, at least it was how he saw you that very first Tuesday. You were dressed in white, with your hair fixed in a tight ponytail. There were no more pink and yellow dresses. And he had changed too. He looked exhausted, with dark circles under his light blue eyes, and he was way taller than you. 
You remembered him being cold, scared to talk. Of course, he did not lose his posture of serenity, as if he was always the most intelligent one in every room he walked in. 
Neither of you remembered how or when it all changed, how you two came to agree with sitting on the floor and sharing your lunch (you always brought something tasty from the outside, something the kids would never have access to). Something had happened — maybe a look you shared or a word he spoke, neither of you could point at the thing, but both were very glad it had happened.
Peter looked forward to his appointments with you, for it was the only hour he had to be himself, to feel free. Yes, your room was as white as the rest of the place, but when it was just the two of you behind the closed door, suddenly, it felt coloured. It felt rainbowy.
“It’s okay. It’s not like I’m not used to being alone,” he said, jokingly, and you pushed him with your left hand while he laughed. “You shouldn’t…” he had to pause because he was laughing too hard “... push me like this, Dr; I’m sure your father won’t like it.”
“Papa?” you echoed. It was funny now that you were twenty to call him papa because that was the very nickname Dr Brenner was forcing the kids, the other numbers, to call him. Well, the word was not funny per se, as it was more weird than comic. “Papa can’t see in here,” you said, smiling, “so I just kill you and it won’t matter.”
Peter smiled again, that beautiful smile that always heated your heart. His hair was growing again, out of his buzzcut, as you noticed it happened way faster than with the other kids. It was so unfair, you thought, for he had the most beautiful golden hair. You were thankful the numbers had a schedule for haircuts, and Peter had to wait for the day with the others, instead of being taken to cut it earlier, because then it allowed you moments like that one, where you could see some locks fighting to grow.
You took advantage of his silence to inform some news.
“I’ve been talking to him, you know. I think… I think he will allow it, P. He’ll let you be a worker here, not just…”
“Don’t say patient,” he quickly interrupted you, knowing very well you hated to use ‘subject’ even though it was way better than ‘prisoner’, which he was.
You stared at him, focusing on every detail of his blue eyes.
You didn’t understand what happened to you two, why were you like this… How did you become friends? And is that the ideal word for the two of you?
Unlike most of the other numbers, Number One had a childhood outside the lab. He got to know some customs of American society, customs that used to reveal themselves without him realizing it. You liked those moments—when he referenced some ‘50s song, or even when he opened the door and let you out first. Most of the other kids couldn’t even form a sentence properly—and they were barely aware of some American habits and customs. It was like talking to little Tarzans, rescued from the forest.
“Sometimes... do you sometimes think about your life before?” you asked, genuinely curious.
“Stop analyzing me,” he said, pretending to be angry, but he knew very well that the question had been asked by [y/n] and not by Dr [y/n] Brenner. He was avoiding answering you, which probably meant that yes, he often thought about it. When he was Peter, though he was still Peter when he walked into your room. He’d never be Number One there — you would never allow it. “I think of my father.”
You gulped, nervously, just like you used to do when you were a kid. 
There wasn’t much you knew about Peter’s life before he met your father, but you knew enough. He killed his parents, or at least he tried to kill his father, but only managed to end his mother and sister. You never knew his motives, for he never talked about it. All the info you had was given by your father, but he didn’t usually care for motives, only for results. So Dr Brenner theorized Peter killed his family because of something traumatic he must’ve been through, and that was enough. 
For you, however, the question always remained.
“Your father… he was imprisoned, right?” you asked, trying to play it casually. You had done your research, but in any way did you want to scare him.
Peter looked back at you, your elbows almost touching.
“He was,” he said as if he wanted to say more but just couldn’t.
“Sometimes, I wish my father went to prison,” you let out your guilty truth. You knew what your father did to the kids, you weren’t dumb. But you spent so many years trying to please him, that it was hard to imagine yourself doing anything that could jeopardize your papa. Besides, his research was important, the kids maybe did not receive the best of treatments, for the love Dr Brenner offered was only when the children had reached important achievements but wasn’t that the love he offered you, his very blood daughter?
You watched Peter as he frowned, clearly feeling sorry for you. Although that was one of the rare comments you made about your father that could indicate a bad upbringing, it was only presumed that the boy used by the doctor would assume that the man was not a good father.
“One day,” he said, “we’ll get out of here, huh.”
“Yeah?”
“Oh, yeah. We’ll get your fancy diploma and my crazy abilities and make a world of our own.”
“I don’t know about a world,” you smiled, leaning your head on his shoulder. “I’m happy with just a house.”
He tilted his head towards yours and the two of you just stayed there, in silence, enjoying each other’s company. There was so much to be said… but there was never the right time. You hoped Peter understood that dreaming of leaving was just that: a dream. You couldn’t escape your papa, and he could even less, as he was not just his whole research base but also his favourite prisoner.
~~
Peter wanted to protect you.
He always wanted to protect you, ever since he met you, the little girl in pigtails, walking in all nervous and looking at him as if you were surprised and scared at the same time. He was not much older than you, but somehow he knew it was his job to be the protector.
He saw through your mind — even though he didn't want to, it was inevitable with a power like his. He saw that you were just the perfect daughter even though your father was far from being the perfect papa you saw him as. He saw a mind as complex and smart as his and he was glad to find in you a twin soul.
Although he saw you grow old, he didn’t see you as often as he hoped, and there were weeks when he grew desperate, thinking Dr Brenner had done some evil against you, but then, all of the sudden, you were crossing the corridors following him around like a puppy, taller and prettier than the last time he saw you, and that was enough. It had to be.
However, three weeks before his nineteenth birthday, a guard came to his room, asking for him to accompany him for Number One had an appointment. Needless to say, Peter was very surprised when, opening the door, he found [y/n], dressed in white this time, just like the other doctors, but at the same time so different. She still had the same energy — a scared little genius. She looked pretty, more like a woman this time than the last, even though she was younger than him.
He was surprised, but he managed to pretend he was careless. What were you doing there, in a room all alone in the lab? He thought by now you’d be free of her father, but he was wrong. Or maybe you didn’t want to be free. Maybe you had become one of them officially. 
So he kept his cold distance, scared you were gonna run more tests with him.
But it wasn’t what you did.
In your first appointment, you just sat there and told him about your trajectory, similar to your first conversation when he was eleven years old, except this time you had managed to accomplish all of those things your father had only planned.
He listened to it all because, why wouldn't he? It was you after all. His weak spot. The one that would doom him. 
Before he knew it, he was anxious, waiting for your next appointment, and, although again, he remained silent and just listened to you, he noticed that he liked it. He just liked being in your presence.
Something happened then, something shifted, and before he knew it, he was telling you everything, all about the tests and the powers; powers you could not comprehend, but that didn’t stop him from trying to explain and eventually show them to you.
Friends, he supposed. You two were friends. He had never thought of calling someone that before, but perhaps it was fit for the little relationship you two had formed.
And since he defined you as a friend, it was no surprise that one day, Dr Brenner, the Dr Brenner, requested his presence in his office.
“Yes, Papa?” he hated to call the man that, he was bloody twenty-one years old, but if he called Brenner any other thing, he would be a dead man by the morning.
“I have been watching you closely, my boy,” he said, trying to put emotion in his words, but failing miserably. “And I think, as you’ve come of age, you should have a more important job here. Perhaps it’s time you help the other children, huh? Help them achieve their potential maximum, as I’ve done with you. You could be my left hand.”
Peter lowered his head, pretending to be honoured. There was no honour in serving Dr Brenner, but Peter knew it was better being a guard than being a subject. At least someone (the children) would stop looking at him like a child that grew too fast. 
“That would be an honour, Papa. I mean, sir, as I suppose should be the one I should call you now,” Peter said, testing the waters. “It wouldn’t be right for the kids to see that Number One is in charge but they aren’t, right?”
Dr Brenner took a second to observe.
“Right. It’d be best if they didn’t know you are Number One. let them think he grew and left for the world. You shall be… I forgot; what was your name from before again, my boy?”
“Peter,” he replied, but soon realised he did it too quickly.
The doctor stared at number One, analysing, pensive towards his easiness of recalling his name. He wasn’t supposed to be remembering that time of freedom, before the lab. 
Peter felt like that was his first test in the new position and he had just failed.
“Well, Peter, that shall be you calling from now on. Go to your room, yes? I’ll send someone to take your things to a new area of the building and explain your duties in the new position. But be clear that I’ll still expect you to continue training.”
“Sure. Thank you for the opportunity, sir.” And Peter left, not fast enough, but he did not stay to hear more — he just wanted to leave.
~~
“Who’s that?” he asked you, following the little girl that was accompanying your father as they passed down the hall.
“Eleven,” you said, as that was the number the little girl was designated and you had no idea what her real name was. “She’s been raised here, but isolated. Papa thinks she’s powerful.”
Peter crossed his arms, still following the girl with his eyes.
His hair was longer than the last time you saw him, and you liked it that way. Since he became a guard and helper, Dr Brenner cut him off from his appointments with you, so you were only able to see Peter if by chance you two crossed paths in the halls, like it was happening there.
It was unfortunate that you couldn’t see each other weekly, but you knew he would rather be a guard than be a ‘patient’, as you used to call and he used to hate it.
“Powerful how?”
“She had been through this whole way of birth… I don’t know how to explain it. She’s not a patient of mine,” you said.
“Why?” he questioned, genuinely interested.
“I don’t know. Papa says she’s too young. But I’ve talked to her, during some tests… She indeed seems very powerful. Talented.” You tilted your head, remembering the first time you saw Eleven.
“So she’s his new Number One,” Peter uncrossed his arms, only to smile at you, tossing his blond locks away from his eyes.
“You’re still number one,” unfortunately, you thought, a bit sad.
“Am I still the most talented and powerful person in the lab?”
“Oh,” you decided to provoke him. “I think Eleven wins.”
“How dare you!” he said, but he was laughing, and soon, so was you.
When you noticed the time on your watch, you decided to ask for a favour.
“Just… watch over her, huh? I feel like you’ll see her more than me, as it seems father won’t trust her over my surveillance. Eleven, she feels like she’ll need a friend.”
“You know you’re my only friend,” he said, and his expression was serious. He wasn’t lying.
“And you’re mine.”
He sighed. “I’ll watch over her.”
“Thank you,” you mouthed, soundless before leaving to go back to your job.
Peter watched as you left, reflecting on your plea. He saw in your mind that you cared for Eleven, more than you cared for the other kids. And if your request was for him to watch over the little girl, then he would be his bloody guardian if needed.
~~
“Happy birthday, doc.” 
You stared up from your cupcake with a candle on top to see Peter, also known as Number One, in your room. There were rare times when he would come in, especially after he stopped being your patient, so you were surprised with his visit, but mostly, you were concerned because he saw your sad moment with the birthday cupcake.
“Thank you, P,” you said, shrugging and blowing the candle. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to say happy birthday. I know those things matter to you.”
You tilted your head while frowning before replying, jokingly, attempting to distract him from your real reasons. “It stopped mattering when I turned 25.”
“[y/n],” he smiled and walked in, closing the door behind, “you just turned 30. You’re not old.”
You were glad he decided not to mention your father — the real reason behind your sad birthdays. He never remembered, or he was always busy; you wish it didn’t matter, mainly as you grew older, but it still bothered you. Fortunately, you had Peter.
“I don't think I've mentioned it before but I like when you call me Peter,” he said, changing subjects.
“I'd never call you 001.”
“I know, but... you could call me Henry. It's better than the number,” he shrugged. “I like being Peter, the guy that works at the lab and not Henry the cursed son of a troubled man.”
You lowered your head, remaining in silence for you had not what to say after that.
“How’s Eleven?” you asked, because, as it seemed, you cared for the girl and it was a good way to change the subject. It was only natural to ask about her to the person who was spending at least ten hours per day with her.
Peter came closer to your chair, looking down at you with pity. It wasn’t as if Eleven was in danger (not more in danger than all of them) or as if she was a stupid child, but Peter didn't like that you cared that much. It made him care too, and that was unforgivable.
“She’s okay. The other kids don’t like her, but she’s managing,” he said.
You sighed. “Well, I suppose it could be worse.”
“Sure. It’s not as if your father isn’t experimenting on her or something.”
You rolled your eyes.
“Don’t say it like that.”
“Like it isn’t the truth?” he replied, bothered that you didn’t like his sick joke.
“I know what my father does, ok? Do you think I like it?” you shouted, perhaps a bit too louder than needed. “Do you think I have any power against it?”
“No, but I do! I have power!” he yelled back. “Just say the word, [y/n], and we’ll burn this place to the ground.”
By place, you knew he meant your father. Your Papa.
And even though you had enough reasons to agree, you just couldn’t.
You sighed, giving up on the fight.  
“I’m sorry,” Peter sighed too, and he placed one of his hands on your chin, forcing you to look back up, to look at him again. You allowed him, mostly because you were tired, but partly because it calmed you down to look at his beautiful blue eyes. “I didn’t come in here to fight. I wanted to give you a gift. For your birthday.”
You stared at him, confused. You could see his hands — there was no package in them.
But Peter’s gift… it didn’t need to be wrapt. 
Growing up with parents that loved each other was kinda gross, at least it was what young Peter thought, seeing them touching lips all the time. He didn’t understand the reason behind it, why would they need to kiss at every chance they got? 
Then, Peter came to the lab, he became Number One, his mother was dead, and he forgot all about it. He forgot the name of the feeling humans have, the one that curls up their stomachs and makes their hearts beat faster. He forgot it all until he didn’t. Until you showed up. And maybe his heart was racing, maybe he wanted to touch you.
Sometimes, brushing shoulders wasn’t enough.
So he remembered something, something lost in his past and probably unfamiliar to you too, as both had weird upbringings, but he thought it was just perfect. Peter knew he had to give it a try.
He raised his hand from your chin to your cheek and allowed the other to follow. Your eyes widened as you understood what was going on, but you did nothing to stop him. Hell, you had been waiting for that for decades.
You could leave the lab, you had access to movies. Even though there weren’t many kisses in your life — motherless childhood and all (besides the fact that you were always the nerd in school and life) — you desired to be kissed. You waited for that moment when you were fifteen, then at eighteen, then strong as ever when you were twenty (when Peter burst in celebrating being repositioned as a guard and not a simple number). 
So you let him and you responded to the kiss. You touched him too, pulling him by his golden hair that you so much admired, and you let your lips open just enough that he could understand the signal. And Peter understood, as he too wanted more — wanted to feel you, taste you, and not just lips and tong, but hands, oh, wandering hands that travelled from your cheekbones to your curves, to pull you close.
If first you were sitting and he had to lean down to reach you, that was in the past minute, because he managed to change your positions with ease, placing you over his lap as he sat on your chair.
“I think…” you started but he kissed you, silencing you.
“Don’t think,” he replied. “If you think, I’ll think.”
“Peter…”
You could feel his smile on your lips.
“Let’s reshape the world, [y/n],” he whispered, kissing your neck, “join me.”
His hands tightened on your back when he noticed you froze. Damn it, he thought.
“We can free all the numbers and we can remake this place, this world, however, we see fit.”
“Why are you saying this to me?” you asked, confused. You thought it was about kissing, but maybe this primitive form of touch awoke something in him. It was two desires combined and you were scared Peter wasn’t gonna forget it.
There was no escaping your father, as much as you liked to dream about it.
You kissed him again. “Forget it, Peter.”
You pulled him closer by the collar of his white shirt.
“Focus on me.”
“It’s all I’ve been focused on, [y/n]. Couldn’t you see? How desperate I am to leave but I stay? Why do you believe I stay?” he kissed you back but this time you pulled away. “Don’t think, [y/n].”
You tried to find his eyes, his calming blue eyes that you loved to stare at. You would see sense there. You would see the real him there.
And you saw the real him there.
Blue. Ice cold blue eyes.
“Peter, let me go,” you said, expecting him to drop his hands from your leg and back.
But he didn’t.
“You just kissed me, Peter, why can’t you enjoy it?”
He shook his head. “How can I? Do you think your father will give us his blessing?”
You closed your eyes.
“And even if he does, do you think he’ll leave us be? Do you think he’ll let my children be?”
You gulped. “You’re overthinking, Peter,” you said, trying to remain calm.
“With whom do you think I’ve to learn it?” his voice was louder and it echoed in the room.
“Let me go,” you asked, but he ignored you, he just kept going with his monologue about the world and freedom. “Let me go, Number One.”
He instantly dropped you. One minute you were on his lap, the other you were on the floor. You got up, adjusting your skirt, trying to get to the door.
“Why did you call me that, Dr Brenner?”
You gulped.
“Why did you have to call me that, Dr Brenner?!”
You finally reached for the door. You had the handle in your fingers. He wasn’t holding you anymore. It was going to be ok.
“Say you’re sorry, please, [y/n],” Peter said, his blue eyes looking deep into yours.
“I’m sorry I called you by your number, ok? It won’t happen again.”
“That’s not the apology I wanted to hear.”
“Peter…”
“I think I loved you, did you know that?” he asked, getting closer, step by step, slowly.
You just knew you were doomed because the goddamn door didn’t open no matter how hard you pulled or pushed.
“Loved?”
“I think you loved me too.”
“I love you too,” you said, in an attempt to save your life, even though it was the truth. 
“Tisk tisk,” he made the noise with his tongue. “Loved, dear. Loved.”
He didn’t even raise his hand before it all went dark.
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caffess · 2 years
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freedom ; peter ballard x reader
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A/N: not the first fic i write, but definitely the first one i post in here
contents; violence, fluff, peter is not the bad one its 002, happy normal life, probably a part two, y/n and peter are cute.
summary: you and peter have been longing for freedom ever since you fell in love, now its time to finally flee the lab with a eight-year-old eleven and start living a normal life.
“Everything ready?”
“Yes, lets just hope Eleven gets here on time”
“She will. She’s very smart for her age.” Peter shuffled around grabbing the walkie talkie that you had sneaked into the lab less than a week ago; in the other line awaited an excited Russian named Yuri, awaiting to do the job he was so well paid for.
It was hard to find a way to escape the lab, especially since Peter and Eleven weren’t allowed to go outside for obvious reasons. Freedom seemed to be something they could only dream of, but if your plan worked out, it would become a reality.
“If Eleven takes the soteria off of you, in theory, you would get your powers back, correct?” You asked, as you got rid of the silly doctors hat that Brenner made you wear.
“Not in theory, it’s a fact,” Peter played with his fingers nervously, an excited smile threatening to form in his lips “We will get the life we've been dreaming of. I promise.”
He kissed you gently in the lips, and for a moment, you let it all settle in.
You would be free.
You were interrupted by the sound little footsteps emerging from the stairs. Peter let go of you and grabbed Eleven as gently as he could, indicating her to stay quiet, due to her nearly letting out a frightened squeak when one of the machines let out some steam near her.
“Follow me, Y/N is just around the corner” He told her.
In less than a second you could see how El and Peter emerged from the distance, and the nervous girl let out the breath she was holding as she saw you.
“Hi, El” You whispered, opening your arms so Eleven could launch her tiny frame into yours
“Hi, mom” She whispered, tears falling from her eyes. 
When Peter told her that there was a way for you three to escape the lab and become a family, Eleven had been so excited she nearly forgot to fake playing the game of chess. The whole day she just kept thinking about the world outside the walls.
You talked to her about Hawkins; the sun, the squirrels, the music. Everything you talked to her about seemed to make her more excited and curious to know what the world outside would look like.
“So, this is the thing.” Peter said, as he placed the walkie in front of both you and Eleven. He took her tiny hand and placed it on his neck where she could feel the little bump under his skin “Can you feel it?”
Eleven nodded in confusion, and looked over to you in search of an explanation.
“Your Papa calls it Soteria” Peter said “It weakens me, it tracks me. We need your help to take it off, if we don’t he will find us”
“H-How can I help?” El asked nervously while pursing her lips. You place your hands on her shoulders and make her turn around to look at you.
“The best option we have is for you to use your powers to take it out” You said, taking one of her hands in yours. “If you do it fast enough you wont hurt him, but we have to be fast unless you want us to miss our ride to freedom”
“O-Okay” She said.
Peter took his belt off and moved in order for him to lay his back on a wall, and put his belt in his mouth, with his other hand in yours.
“When I count to three, you will pull it off, okay?”
El nodded.
“One.. Two” Peter closed his eyes hard and his grip on your hand grew tighter “Three!”
Peter’s whine is partly muffled by the belt and you hear the Soteria clink as it hits the ground. 
“You okay, darling?” You ask as Peter shuffled towards the tiny chip covered in blood, his hand not once leaving yours.
“Yeah... Yeah... Im fine.” Reality seems to punch him right in the face when he sees the object shining between his fingers. Freedom was just a few steps away from becoming real.
“There they are!” A voice shrieks while kicking the door right open “Freeze!”
Peter grabs your and Eleven’s hands and makes a run for it. 
You both follow him up some stairs while several security guards yell orders behind you. Peter’s grip on your hand becomes tighter signaling the fear and adrenaline going through his veins. You kick open a door and you're able to find yourselves in a hallway. It seems empty at first and you try to keep running, but just as you turn your heel, you are surrounded by guards with electric weapons pointing at you.
“All three of you against the wall!” One of them says, you slowly hide behind Peter, holding Eleven tightly in your arms.
“You don’t have to be afraid of them, El.” He tells her while looking at the guard right in the eyes “Not anymore”
In a quick movement, Peter turns around and uses his powers to push the guards behind you against the wall, and crashing the two others in front of him against the roof. The last one puts his hands up but Pete shows him no mercy, and snaps his neck before he’s able to even beg for mercy.
“Come on, El, let’s go, now!” You grab her wrist and follow Peter around the lab. Your feet run as fast as they can trying to keep up with the blonde boy. You hear Eleven’s terrified whimpers and you long to console her but now isn't the right time, and the only thing you can do is try to urge her to run faster.
She’s just eight years old, her tiny and delicate frame cant keep up with both yours and Peter’s long steps, so you stop for a brief moment and take her in your arms.
“Lets play a game, okay?” You whisper in her ear, while putting your hand in Peter’s once again “You will try to hold me as tight as you can, and I want you to close your eyes and count to the biggest number you can think of, alright?”
You can feel her nod, and her head buries itself in the crook of your neck, where you can hear clearly her voice counting as slowly as possible.
“Dont move, we will shoot!” A guard screams. Peter looks back at him and sends his crew flying against the walls. One of them fires his gun but it missed you narrowly, startling El, who whimpers in your neck.
“What was that?” She asks, her voice cracking. As soon as Peter is done with the guards you keep running, holding his hand and cradling Eleven’s head.
“It was nothing, keep counting, you were doing it so well!”
You go down some stairs and finally see the reception. Alarms are blaring around you and Peter is going ballistic throwing all the goons around the air and against the walls. When you're about to reach the door, you trip with an object and hit your head against a hard surface. You can hear Eleven whine and Peter’s too busy with the men to help you. You try to stand up but an artifact floats towards you and hits you right in the nose.
You shriek at this and turn around to see what happened and are faced by number Two staring at you with angry eyes.
“You guys always seem to forget about me, dont you?”
Peter turns around and freezes for a second at the sight of the kid. How he has escaped is beyond you two, but he seems to be boiling in anger. Before you're able to formulate a response, you see the kid raise his hand towards you and you can feel a force pulling you up by your neck.
“Peter tries to focus on both him and the guards but the task seems impossible. Your sight starts getting blurry and as soon as you think you're going to slip into unconsciousness, you feel the pressure leave you, and you drop to the ground.
You can hear a loud crash and screams, and you feel Peter’s arms around you. When you look up, the only thing you're able to see is a huge red opening against the wall that is slowly closing in front of you, and Eleven’s tiny frame collapse in the ground.
Everything seems too blurry and your throat aches like hell, but with Peter’s help you manage to get up. He grabs El’s tiny body and cradles her in her arms and you're back to running. Peter uses his powers to open the gate to the lab and you both run off to the woods. 
Your feet hurt and you're feeling dizzy, but you cant afford to stall right now. You are so close to making it that you can nearly taste freedom at the tip of your tongue.
The world around you seems to fade and theres only you, Peter, and Eleven. Running for your lives. Running for your freedom.
“I see you, Americans” You hear a voice echoing from Peter’s pocket, and suddenly you remember what you’re running towards: Yuri’s car.
Far from you, you see a glimpse of blue, and the closer you get, the better you can see it.
It’s a car.
It’s freedom
✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
Eleven didn't wake up until you guys arrived at a cottage far from the lab. The car ride was full of weird attempts at understanding Yuri’s less than funny jokes but in the end everything worked out for you guys.
El rubbed her eyes as she looked around the place, you were putting her down on an old dusty couch so you could look for the bags hidden under the floorboards.
You reached for a suitcase filled with money and handed it to the weird russian man, who had been drooling over his payment a whole month.
“There you go, now get the fuck out of here” You said. You watched him scurry away and didnt peel your gaze off him until he was way out of sight in the heart of the woods.
“Where are we?” Eleven asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Hey darling, we are in a safe house. We have about an hour to get cleaned up before we go to our real house”
“Real house? Where?”
“Its a beautiful place near Lovers Lake” You explained, while ruffling inside the bag looking for the clothes you had bought for her. “Go inside the room and put this on. I will help you get cleaned up in a second”
“Wheres Peter?” She asked, while grabbing the white shirt and blue skirt you had gotten her.
“Don’t worry about him darling, he’s just starting the car”
As she entered the room, you didn’t waste any time and took your ugly dress off. You pulled your clothes on and put a coat over them; you were in the middle of November and it was pretty chilly.
“The car is ready to go” Peter said as he jumped into the cabin. You couldn’t help but notice the huge red stain in his shirt caused by the open wound of the Soteria.
“Oh Peter come on we gotta get you cleaned up.” You said, hurrying to get something to stop the bleeding. You ripped a piece of your ugly nurse dress and pressed it on his neck. “Good luck I got you a turtle neck”
He chuckled at this, and you couldn’t help but smile back at him.
“Gods, I love you, you know that, right”
You chuckled and nodded.
“I love you too, Peter, you’re the love of my life”
984 notes · View notes
avengerslittleone · 1 year
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KIᗪᑎᗩᑭᑭᗴᗪ TO ᗷᗴ Tᕼᗴ ᗩᐯᗴᑎᘜᗴᖇᔕ ᗷᗩᗷY
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Warning :cursing,drugged ,humiliation, 
Tony :do we have everything to get our baby
Bucky:oh yes we do (smiles)
Natasha:well I got the knockout stuff a syringe and some other stuff and some other drugs to make them limp and some drugs to weaken there muscles
Pepper:ok are we ready
Peggy:Steve you ready
Steve:ready as ever
Dr strange:ok now (opens portal to your universe)
Bucky:(walks by you)excuse me y/p can you give me directions to Vineyard columbus
Natasha:(grabs you injects you)I am sorry baby but your mama’s and dada’s can’t have you running
Y/n: Scarlett Johansson , Sebastian Stan , Benedict Cumberbatch (you fell your eyes close)
Dr strange:ok good we got them (closes portal)
Bucky:(carry’s you to med bay)
Bruce:awww they look so cute but now I do my thing so they become ours and our little one alone mine
Natasha:just tell Wanda when your dune she is going to erase there adulthood memories
Bruce:(injects headspace starters in iv and some other stuff)Wanda you can come in now
Wanda:ok (does wiggly woo magic on you)that should be ok
America:are they awake yet I want to meet them
Peter:please I want to
Morgan:please pretty pretty please
Tony:ok but shhh they are asleep
Natasha:(sits by your bad side)
Peter:awwww
Morgan:awwwww
America:awwww there so cute
Tony:shhhh they need there nap time they had a big day
Peggy:there the baby Steve come on
Peter:let’s go (leaves with America and Morgan)
Steve:punk
Bucky:jerk so how’s it going
Steve:good she loves it here and we can be happy together same for you and romanoff
Y/n:(rolls over in bed)
Pepper:there waking up
Y/n:(opens eyes looks around) ou are Chw
Bruce:well we are your mommy’s and daddy’s and you are our baby
Y/n:(cry’s) nw you ovie charters you nw weal nw wana be baby
Vision:well you are our baby
Natasha:shhh it’s ok baby (sits in hospital bed with you in her lap)
Bucky:oh see that made them quiet
Y/n:(pulls at Natasha’s top)mama
Natasha:everyone except Bucky out
Natasha:(unbuttoning her top takes nursing bra off let’s you latch on)good baby
Bucky:thank goodness for Wanda
𝗧𝘄𝗼 𝗺𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗵𝘀 𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗿
Peggy:(picks you up off of play mat lay’s you on changing table changes you)
Natasha:(takes you from Peggy)say bye bye to ma she is going bye bye of two weeks
Y/n:bye bye ma
Wanda:nat I need to feed our baby
Natasha:ok (carry’s you to dining room put’s you in high chair)
Wanda:(grabs a spoon of baby food)come on baby look mommy likes it see
Y/n:(eats baby food off spoon spits it’s at daddy/tony)
Tony:really
Yelana:hahaha ha you didn't think that was going to happen
Wanda:(looks into your mind the adult part)
Y/n adult part of brain: I hate these ass holes they are some kinky asshats who want to control some now all I eat is baby food and titty milk and some food and shit and piss my self becoming of the fucken avengers I would rather be at hydra and or dead like piedro
Wanda:(does more wiggly woods on your mind)see now we have our baby and the best part is everyone in your universe can’t find your phone or anything on you your our ’s
Natasha:Wanda can I ask what you did
Wanda:someone’s adult self was coming through so I killed it so now we only have our sweet baby (wipes drool from your chin)
𝗔𝗻𝗱 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝗼𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗮𝘃𝗲𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝗯𝗮𝗯𝘆 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘆 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗴𝗼𝘁 𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘆 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗮 𝗯𝗮𝗯𝘆 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗶𝘁 𝘁𝗼𝗼𝗸 𝗮𝗹𝗼𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝗴𝗲𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘆 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗺𝗮𝗻𝘆 𝗽𝘂𝗻𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁'𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗱𝗿𝘂𝗴𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘀𝗽𝗮𝗻𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘆 𝗴𝗼𝘁 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝘆/𝗻 𝗮𝘃𝗲𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿
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terror-slut · 2 years
Note
Please write some 001 fanfics!
Change of Heart
Chapter 01/?? Click HERE for this fic’s masterlist!
Reader is a troubled pediatrician at Hawkins lab when she crosses paths with this lovely orderly. Nothing will stand between Peter and his revenge. Not even really pretty distractions.
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Pairing: Peter Ballard x f!reader
Word count: 1117
Ratings & warnings: SPOILERS, period typical sexism, violence, blood, NSFW, swearing, no (Y/N), no described defining features for reader. Ratings may change as chapters are added.
A/N: your wish is my wish as well my command!
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She doesn’t talk much.
Not to her colleagues, at least. She speaks with dr. Brenner because she answers to him and she speaks to the children when they need her.
But not to the other doctors and nurses, not to the other orderlies. Not to him.
It has never bothered Peter before. He doesn’t need her, has no reason to let her live when his plan eventually comes to fruition. In his mind, she is just like everyone else who works at Hawkins Lab. Another mindless sheep pretending to care for the children, but in reality only interested in prodding their supernatural brains in the name of science and a paycheck at the end of the month.
Eat. Sleep. Work. Reproduce. Die.
It was stupid of him to let her become a distraction. He should have killed her when he had the chance.
“Peter,” one of the kids in the rainbow room groans to him, tugging on the spotless white sleeve of his uniform.
He crosses eyes with little 015 when he looks down, the boy looks paler than usual and his lips are chapped. The kid’s eyes are watery and his nose runny.
“I don’t feel so good, Peter.”
Alec locks eyes with him and then nods, signaling that it’s fine, under the illusion that he can handle these kids on their own while Peter is away.
“Come with me, 015. The doctor will make you all better.”
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A disheveled mess greets the pair when he and 015 arrive at the sick bay, something that he’s not used to from the Hawkin’s lab pediatrician.
Though usually neatly put in a tight bun, her locks now tumble in unkempt tresses down her face and deep, purple circles have appeared under her eyes. It is out of the ordinary and bound to capture Peter’s attention.
“015 is not feeling good,” he states the obvious, expecting her to ignore him as she usually does. When her eyes find his deep blue ones before they wander off to 015, his interest is piqued once again.
Something is off, which meant the puzzle pieces could change and be rearranged. Peter always keeps his eyes open for little shifts in the matrix that could mean he has to change his initial plan. Has the doctor’s obvious distracted state any real meaning to him? Could and would she form a problem?
Peter watches as she sits the kid down in her office, producing a penlight and has him follow the light for her.
“Does it hurt anywhere, 015? Do you remember when it started?” She asks him, squatting in front of the kid so that they’re at eye level.
“I’ll come back later to pick him up,” Peter says, but before he can make his way out of her office and back to the rainbow room, she calls after him. Knitting his brows together in amusement, he turns around on his heels to look at the doctor.
“Yes?” His hands are folded neatly behind his back, ever the friendly, harmless orderly. She’s at least a head smaller than he is.
“I know we’re not supposed to intervene with the kids. And I’m not asking you to,” her eyes dart around the hallway. He wonders what she has to hide. “But tell dr. Brenner if you see any of the bigger kids picking on the smaller ones. I’ve had too many kids in here with nosebleeds that didn’t stem from their powers.”
“Why?” He asks. Not why should he tell dr. Brenner. He understands her motivation behind that. But why him? Why can’t she tell Brenner herself? Unlike Brenner and himself, she has always been on good terms with the man. What happened?
“I…” she hesitates, worrying her lip between her teeth as he looks down upon her. “You seem like a good guy, Peter. You’re here every day, you spend every waking moments with these kids. I know you care for them. Please?”
Please.
Please? Fuck.
If Peter was the person she assumed he was, good and kind, maybe he would fulfill her request. But he is far from that person and she must surely be delusional to think he cared. The only person Peter looks out for is number 001, and that meant that drawing attention to himself would only make dr. Brenner suspicious of him. He could and would not risk it, not even when she asks him so prettily.
“I’ll be back for him. After dinner,” she looks dejected, but it doesn’t matter to Peter. The clicking of his shoes on the tiles announce his retreat.
With a disappointing huff she watches the lean orderly go before turning back to 015 with a fake smile plastered on her face.
“Alright, kid. Let’s get you all better.”
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It’s long after dinner when Peter makes his nightly rounds around the lab, enjoying the peace and quiet, free of the chatter between doctors that could be heard during the day. It’s moments like these Peter enjoys most. The deathly quiet where he can take a moment and think.
Back when he had just been assigned the job of an orderly, he used to take these moments and try as he might to rekindle his power. Every night for days, weeks, months he tried, until he had no choice but to accept that the blocker in his neck did it’s job. There was no way around it.
Later, he took these moments to order his thoughts and form a plan. An escape plan that not even dr. Brenner could see coming. He would be sure to make them all pay, Martin Brenner the first to atone and the last to die.
Nowadays, he saw these quiet moments as the calm before the storm. Much like a spider, he shakes his long limbs loose and his mind wanders off to a place he’d be able to call home. Somewhere he could be well and truly alone.
“For fuck’s sake!” Peter’s head snaps up at the muffled cussing coming from behind a closed door. His body stiffens and his breathing becomes steady like an animal ready to pounce on it’s prey.
Seconds pass like rain droplets joining a winded river as he waits for another sound.
Suddenly, a door on his left flies open and he has his hand halfway lifted before cursing dr. Brenner and his idiotic power blocker.
To his surprise, it’s not one of the other staff members on duty, or even one of the kids.
It’s the pediatrician.
And she’s not wearing her lab coat or her white pants, either. She’s wearing a pastel nightgown. His hand falls, in sync with her face when she notices him.
“Peter?!”
“Doctor.”
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A/N: well, that’s the end of chapter 01! If people enjoy it, I’ll definitely continue. I have a bunch of ideas for this pair and I love getting in Peter’s head to discover his motivations etc. Also lmk if you want to be tagged for future chapters!
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thatpunklani · 2 years
Text
"Little One"
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Description: He might seem to be the bad guy, but is he really a bad guy?
This is basically episode 5 from season 4 re-written with you in it. Also, I'm writing this at 3 am on a Wednesday and I am not spell checking.
(I know people will either hate me or something for writing this, but I haven’t seen literally anyone write for Dr. Brenner and I am so attracted to older men, so this is not an apology for him or his actions, but I find him so hot. Sorry, but enjoy I guess.)
Pairing: Dr. Brenner x Fem!ScientistReader
Warning(s): SMUTTT! Get ready and hold on tight, its a bumpy ride ;) Age gap, Dumbification, Praise, a bit of Fluff, Dirty talk???, Non protection (wear a damn condom y’all), Pulling out, Cum eating, Pet names, tell me if i missed anything :)
MDI!! I will block you if you are underage!!
Words: 9k
This all started with Dr. Owens.
He was the one to drag you down into this cellar in the middle of nowhere and even further nowhere. You weren’t - rather, you couldn’t speak about the project with anyone other than your fellow scientist. Had to leave your family behind, even if you were one of the few who didn’t have a husband or wife or any children behind for the greater good. You knew this was for the "greater good" as Sam told you over the phone and that was it.
Your first day was beside Sam. You face him with concern while glancing back at the rickety-looking elevator, hearing the grinding shutters of the shaft coming up to greet both of you. He holds out his hand before lifting up the security gate to the elevator. You give him one more look that was basically shouting out, “Do you really expect me to get on that thing?” He turns to you while walking back into the elevator, “It’s not as bad as it looks, c’mon.” With little hesitation, you follow suit.
He closes the gate and hits the button pointing down as he proceeds to tell you more about the project you’d be working on. You knew it sounded dumb that you would blindly follow Dr. Owens without the knowledge of what you’d be working on or researching for, but he reached out to you for help, knowing you’d be a good teammate to work with and had a smart head as well. “You really didn’t think we were working out of a shed, did you?” He chuckles with amusement while the slight shake of the elevator, “Well you didn’t really tell me much over the phone Sam.” You scroff while biting your inner cheek, something was off about this place. “You know better than anyone I couldn’t say anything over the phone.” You furrow our brows at his response, he was right and you knew people would be listening. 
The elevator continue to rumble as you were lowered down into the earth. “So, are you going tell me what I’m here for exactly?” He smiles at you, always straight to the point you are. “Project N.I.N.A.” He says with enthusiasm and a clap of his hands. Again he looks down at you to see your reaction, waiting for the obvious. “What does N.I.N.A stand for?” He just gives you a smirk and before you could question, you felt the hard thud beneath your feet. 
Once reached the bottom with a halt the gates open the tunnel-like system awaits, Sam holds out his hand for you to go ahead of him. On your first steps off your eyes look everywhere to get a clear picture, the lights are faulty and flicker, beside the elevator there was a guard, and from what you can see it looks like the tunnels go on for a couple of hundred feet each side. There was a tunnel going straight, and two tunnels going either side. It was somewhat dark and damp. You look back at him, “I know damn well you didn’t build all of this yourself.” He laughs at your sarcasm and tucks his hands in his pockets. “Yes, you are correct, more like a facelift.” He exclaims while doing a little twirl, looking at everything he has done with this place. This had an eerieness to it, with the slight hum of the lights and the temperature chilling your arms. “You know what ICBM stands for?” He asks a few more steps into the tunnel. “Intercontinental ballistic missile?” It took you a moment before answering but once the words left your lips that's when it clicked in your head. “We used to store them in these silos, but we haven’t used this one in years.” He has a cheeky grin on, proud of his thinking, and almost the perfect place to do his research with the government finding out where he was. “The perfect hiding spot.” You somewhat gawk at this realization and his cleverness. Which he feeds his ego with.
“I mean why not use this big ol’ empty space? So, we repurposed it to hold something much more powerful than a missile.” He lifts his hands out of his pockets while talking to exaggerate his point. You nod and lift your gaze back up at Sam to see what he was going to follow up with, but your mind was already set. The rumor had to be true, you’ve never known anyone who’s actually seen her in real life before or seen what she had in store. Yet here you are. It was something for him to drive you to an unlocated security government facility, but it was a completely different thing to make you go down to this cellar with the most dangerous thing that was possibly created. And it had to be you to be a scientist. “Eleven.”
—--
Over the few months of working on the project, you’ve been close with your fellow worker. Anne and Tracy are your favorites, along with a couple of others. Most of your coworkers and you have knitted a close circle while working together.
But you all waited ever so patiently for that elevator door to open and show her, the whole reason you’ve been down here for months and left everything behind. And that day finally arrived with the familiar crashing thud of the elevator landing on the bottom floor.
You and your fellow scientist peek over our workspaces to see if we could steal a glance at Eleven. And there she was, Dr. Owens, giving his little speech about everything she needed to know. And while passing through between the other scientists Dr. Owens calls out for you, “Erm, Y/n follow me.” It took you a moment to process what he meant, that and he had picked you. You shake yourself off and while passing your friends they give you small thumbs up and the other with their jaws slightly slack at the sight of Eleven.
You follow right behind them both, “You’ll have to forgive the staring. You’re a bit of a celebrity down here.” Dr. Owens explains to the teen. She had her hair done up in a ponytail, she wore flannel and had light denim wash jeans. She looks up at Sam and glances back at you for a second. “I am?” She questions and before Sam could answer you butt in, “You - You’re bigger than Madonna over here.” Sam laughs at the comparison, but it was right. She was the talk of the town down here, everything you were doing was for her. How could she not be a big deal? She gives you a timid smile and looks back at Sam.
“They’ve all given up their lives, their jobs, their families. To come work on this program, cause they believe in this cause. They believe in you.” Dr. Owen explains further to Eleven, all while she listens closely. 
The door in front swiftly opens, you three walk together into the main workspace. This was where you kept N.I.N.A, a huge tank full of saltwater and televisions. At first, looking at the prototypes while ironing out the specifics you were all but confused as to what you were looking at, but once Sam explained his blueprint and the overall idea it made sense why he called you down here in first place. “We call her Nina.” He speaks to Eleven as she admires the tank, “What is it?” She asks and Sam is about to answer her when you heard his voice.
“If we told you, it would ruin the surprise.” He states.
Looking up through your lashes you hear those footsteps, slightly echoing through the room. His black classic loafer beneath you all. His perfectly tailored suit hugged him just in a delicious amount. His matching tie and light pin-striped shirt. His silver hair was styled to perfection while his hands gripped the rails. A scar ran down from his eyebrow and down his cheek. Yes, you’ve heard all the rumors and talk about Dr. Brenner. He was a bad man, the devil inside a suit as some say. But what they forgot to tell you was that he wasn’t an eyesore to look at, rather the opposite, you could stare at the man for hours on end without getting bored. It sounds rather shameful to admit out loud as you also know what he’s done with these kids, but he did care for them. Almost as if a father would care for his children, and you know that he would love them and he would mourn the ones he's lost. Again, embarrassingly admitting you couldn’t get enough of the man who stood atop the stairwell, looking down at Eleven.
Dr. Owen's worrisome eyes look back at Eleven, he already knew the effect of seeing him would cause her. What you didn’t know was the reason why you were standing with him as well. You also glance at the frightened girl. She slightly shook like a leaf, it started to alert you that something was very wrong.
“Hello, Eleven.” He speaks directly to her, he never shifted his gaze elsewhere, just watching her reaction to seeing him again. Eleven’s breathing became heavy and labored, a telling sign she was getting anxious, plus she started to step back to get further distance from Dr. Brenner. “I know.” He takes a step down, “You're frightened of me.” He continues and still observes Eleven’s reaction, she closes her mouth and slowly starts to shake her head in denial, it wasn’t just Dr. Brenner staring at her at this point, it felt as if everyone in the room was watching the interaction take place.
 “Perhaps, in our time apart, you may have even grown to hate me. But all I’ve wanted to do is to help you.” He takes steps further down while speaking. “And right now, I think you very much need my help.” He reaches the bottom step, still, his eyes never broke away from her, but your eyes were glued to him. It felt as if every word that slipped off his tongue was enchanting to you, if you could look at yourself that this moment you knew your eyes were dilated and had a somewhat dorky smile at him. It was hard to break this trance, but you had to look over at Eleven to see her state. Any moment she could have a panic attack and you knew that it was coming sooner rather than later. “Your gifts have been stolen, I believe I know why. And I believe I know how to get them back.” He waltzes toward Eleven. And you couldn’t deny the fact laying out in front of you, the man did know what he was doing, he’s been at it for ages. From the diagrams and plans for the experiments to take place, he seems like he had a clear plan of workings. 
He now stands in front of her, “Let us work together again.” You wish you could have said something before he put his hand on her shoulder as it was crystal clear that she did not want to be touched and especially by him. But there was no stopping him now, “You and I.” She glares down at his hand, “Daughter and Papa.” That’s when she glared back at him in disgust, her face fastly turning sour at the memories. She quickly pushed off of him and began to run out the door.
But before she could make her grand run along, she ran into you and somewhat pushed you away, but that shove caused you to fall down. You watch as she runs down the hall and passes your coworkers. You knew she didn't mean to push you that hard or come off as rude, you understood that this was stressful and couldn't blame the young teen for her actions.
Right when you were about to lift yourself off the floor you heard a shuffle. Blinking your eyes up at the person offering you their hand, which you had conjured up was Dr. Owen’s but it took you by surprise when you looked up at him and it was Dr. Brenner's rather larger hand. 
Palm down and a toothy smile, “Here, let me.” He gestures with his hand and you slowly take it in yours. This was your first time interacting with Dr. Brenner, and you could feel the heat rising to your cheeks at his kindness. And once your hands intertwine he lifts you up quickly with ease. 
From where you stood you had to look up at the man, he easily stands at 6’3. Which would be intimidating but the smile he adored and his sweet action put you into a muttering mess. Somehow you managed to say a quick ‘thank you' before averting you gaze back to Eleven who is now down at the hall speaking to the guards who blocked her way to the only exit she knew of. You three start rushing down the elongated hall to catch up to the teen before anything goes out of hand. And before you or any of the two men could react, a doctor injected her with a mixture of drugs to knock her out for a couple of hours. 
You hear her shouting and pleading to stop the doctor but nonetheless, she was poked and after a couple of seconds you saw her body go limp. “Leave her.” Dr. Brenner says, pushing away the guards. Crocheting down to carry her. She still pleads with everyone, but it didn't matter now. “I’m sorry Eleven. This is not how I wanted things to begin.” Her eyes start to flutter as she tries to fight off the drugs running through her veins. “But everything’s going to be all right. You’re home now.” He cradles her in his arms as she slowly drifts away into sleep.
Dr. Owen and you share a look of concern, then look back at the two. 
—---
You sit watching as the machine beside you whirls out printing paper. The wavelengths full-on display while the screens in front of you show what exactly Eleven was seeing. It was like seeing her dream in a way. And from what you could tell, she was not having an amazing time. “Her heart rate’s now 120 BPM.” You hold off the paper and look up at the two men, who are looking out at the tank. You monitor beeping out more distress signals.
Dr. Owens sighs through his nostrils, “She’s rejecting it.” He sounds divided and somewhat disappointed, but you and everyone knew she wouldn’t just get her power magically. “Give her time.” Dr. Brenner confirms. “No, no, no. We shouldn’t have just thrown her in like this. She’s going to drown in there.” Sam rests his hand on his face as he continues to sigh in disapproval. He’s still in denial, even after dragging you all down here, and for that reason, you softly scoff at him. He if really didn’t believe this was going to work or harm Eleven he should have made his point clear. But Dr. Brenner refers to Dr. Owens. “No, she is going to swim.” He smiles down at the tank, clear that he believed in the teen. He buttons up his suit coat he gives a quick smile to both of you as head heads for the door. Sam is now looking at you and down at the machine, whirring down scribbles.
It had been a couple of hours since Dr. Brenner was in the wing. But he was quickly called over by Sam once Eleven’s BPM started rising again. She was having another episode. You two watch intensely at the screens showing what she was experiencing. She stood atop a chair in the rainbow room, once again you’ve only heard rumors of what happened in that room and the facility. So it was strange for you to actually see it on screen, it wasn’t what you’d imagine at all. She peers through the security camera, furious at whoever was playing this somewhat sick game with her mind. “Stop this!” She yells loudly, causing you to take a step back at her anger. From everything you saw and heard, when she was angry it was a death wish for anyone around her. Dr. Brenner side-eyes you as she continues her rage, “Let me out!” She pants with her yelling and pleads. It broke your heart to see her in so much mental torment.
She looks back toward the room and hoped down the chair. She slowly steps into the mirror, at first you couldn’t tell what she was doing but soon see the small child version of herself. Her hand reaches her face to caress her own cheek. But before anything else could happen Dr. Brenner held the speaker phone and pressed into it. His voice booming through the room she was in, Eleven's head whips up to the ceiling at his voice. 
“In 1786, Nicolas Dalayrac wrote an opera called “Nina”. It’s a story about a young woman whose lover was killed in a duel.” He steals another glance at you while speaking, but you are unaware as you watched Eleven’s movement. She slowly circled her surrounding to find where his voice was coming from. But she never found the pinpoint. She softly mutters out, “Papa.” A sad expression painted on her face. “Nina was so traumatized that she buried the memory. It was as if it never happened. Every day, she would return to the train station to await her lover’s return. A return that would never be. If only Nina could know the truth.” He looks back at the monitors. She shook her head in disapproval, “This. This isn’t real.” She stutters out. “No. But it once was.” He starts to explain to her, her eyebrows still furrow and confused. “A memory.” She states more like a question and Dr. Brenner was there to praise her. “Very good.”
She's still confused about what this all meant, “How?” She pushes further with her question. “Never mind how.” He ignores her question and began to speak before she cut him off. “Let me out. I want out!” She busted out with anger, she bites her inner cheek while expressing her wants to leave. It even saddens you to know you could help her at that moment, this was for the greater good. But her cries made it all the more harder. 
“I’m sorry, Eleven. You’ll have to find your own way out. Leave your train station, stop waiting. Focus. Listen. Remember.” He says, referring back to the mention of Nina, Eleven huffs out in frustration and mumbles out something inaudible before shuttering out a heavy breath.”I don’t understand!” She yells back, but by now Dr. Brenner shut off the microphone and placed it on the table in front of him, all the machines and computers beeping and whirling out nonsense. Eleven’s voice echo back to her in the rainbow room, even the other children didn’t react to her obscene action. And once again the tall blonde elder stood in front of her. Going off his normal little script.
You both watch silently at the screens, Dr. Brenne leading more back towards you. In seeing this you face him and he does the same. That sharp yet devilishly handsome smile appears on his face once again. “How do you think she’s doing. In there, I mean.” He ask with a slight nervous tick, why was he even asking for your opinion on the matter? You take one last glance at the computer screen, “I think she’ll adapt to it. But she might need a little more time adjusting to it.” You look back at the monitor, showing that Dr. Brenner is on screen. Even then he still looked good, a small tint of blush floods your cheeks, which is evident by the look exchanged by the both of you, and the slow smirk turning on his lips. 
Before anything else could be said between the two of you Dr. Owens opens the door. Interrupting your conversation, but what confused you was the way Dr. Brenner took a few steps away from you, you hadn’t realized he was that close to you. You missed his warmth beside you. “How’s she doing?” Sam asks cheerfully, he must have drank his afternoon coffee by the way his mood had drastically changed from the previous conversation you had with him. Now he had hope. “ Very well.” Dr. Brenner claims and Sam looks at me for confirmation, “She’s swimming now.” You nod while speaking. 
A relieved sign escapes Sam's mouth, “Good. Cause I just got off the phone with Stinson. We don’t have a lot of time.” This took you by surprise. “I thought you had said it could take months to get her whole powers back, and now we’re supposed to do it in days?”Your question was presented with the fact that he did promise he had time on his side, but now you had to rush this job, it could be dangerous to bring all this trauma back to Eleven so quickly. The two men took your warning but ignored you altogether. “Well then, she’ll just have to swim faster.” Dr. Brenner looks back at you.
—--
For the time being, you had been kept up in the wing, continuously scanning her BPM and monitoring her vitals. It had been a while since Dr. Owen had shown his face, all while Dr. Brenner stood beside you. From where you sat and the height difference between the two of you was dramatic and it made the butterflies in your stomach flutter away at your expense. Every now and then he would strike up a conversation with you, as you were the only one besides himself in the room. It would last a few minutes before fizzling out or hearing Eleven’s monitor beep. In the moments of silence, it was not awkward, but rather very comfortable to be in his presence. And from where you sat his cologne carried through the atmosphere, his signature scent resembling an oak wood and slight cinnamon. It puts you at ease.
But what took you out of your daze was the monitor beeping loudly and fast. With a hit of a button, sending a callout for Dr. Owen. He came rushing past the door. “What is happening?” He ask quickly and worried. You scan at the sheet below you, “She’s going into arrest.” Your eyebrows knit in confusion and slight anger. How could you let this happen to her? But before you could argue with yourself even further, Dr. Owns stook out his hand and point to Dr. Brenner. “Okay, that’s enough. Pull her out.” He loudly spoke to him. All while Dr. Brenner looks down at the tank as the monitor beeping continues. “Pull her out!” He starts to shout at him. Your eyes never leaving the trail of paper shooting out as her virtual are up the roof, signaling that she was going into full arrest. “She’s going to die if you don’t pull her out now.” You mutter just loud enough to get your point across to the two men. At your words laced with anger, Dr. Brenner tosses his coat to the side chair and begins to roll up his sleeve, following shortly behind Dr. Owens out the door.
Now you stand with a fellow coworker, Dr. Owen and Dr. Brenner examine Eleven. She's heavily panting while Dr. Brenner's hand rests on her. “Alright. Get her some air, for christ’s sake.” Dr. Owen rudely speaks down at you over the chaos happening around you. You quickly put the air guard over her face as she wiggles beneath you. “It’s okay.” Dr. Brenner tries to soothe her, “It will take time to adjust. But you’re safe now, hmm?”  He looks at you and your eyes connect, you felt bad for him, he knew he was causing this much distress on his so-called “daughter”. 
While being distracted for a moment, Eleven somehow reached out for the automated external defibrillator aka the paddles and swung at Dr. Brenner. She shrieks while doing so and proceeds to stand up from the table, leaving us all in shock at this display.
Dr. Brenner groans at the pain and his hand reaches up to the obvious cut, blood leaking down from his temple, along with a busted lip. As he's toppled over he rests his hand on the table to lift himself up, You all turn to watch as Eleven runs once again out to the lab. 
All you heard was the muffled screams of Eleven, And the three of you follow quickly behind to try to catch her before she could escape, she really was giving you all a workout. And by the sound of it, she must have been all the way to the elevators already. And before you knew it a blast of light and shattering of the dim lights above broke with her scream. You watch as the guards fly freely into the air and bounce off the way with their weight. She curled up on a ball on the floor, tucked in knees to her chest. She gasps for air and lifts he head to the ceiling.
“Remarkable.” Dr. Brenner says as he walks up to her, his shoes making an echo along the way. Eleven slowly turns back at Dr. Brenner, ignoring everyone else but him. “Stay away.” Her facial expression said it all, she was mad and you worried for Dr. Brenner as he ignored her words and continued to step closer to her. She stands up with some trouble, but once she faces him she reaches out, “I said stay away!” She shouts to him, expecting him to fly back like the guard before but nothing happened. Relieving you with a sigh. Dr. Brenner reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small handkerchief and begins to dab his busted lip. “You didn’t think it would be that easy, did you?” He wipes his lip and glances down at the blood. She glares at her hand, almost in a disappointed gaze at her body failing her. “I don’t understand.” She said while poting. “I do.” He tucks away the handkerchief back into his pocket and stands in front of her, sticking out his hand for her to join him. 
That’s when the door to the elevator opens with a ding, she slowly turns back to look at the only door to her escape. The only way to leave this hell hole, but his words struck her. It did look for a second like she would run out and escape but she turned back to face Dr. Brenner and down at his hand. Tears ringing her eyes, "Papa?” She asks innocently. “Daughter.” He responded, a smile forming on his lips as she placed her hand in his. Both of them watch hand n’ hand back down the corridor and back to the main lab. Leaving you to check up on the guards, but you already could tell that most were dead or knocked out unconscious. This was becoming more difficult than originally thought on all ends. 
—--
After a short while of finishing your work up from such an intensive day, you swipe your hand along your face as you make your way down the hall. Which happens to be where Dr. Brenner’s office was, you saw his name on his door every day as you walked to your private living corridors along with the other staff. And every day the door was shut, but now it was cracked open. And as you pass you halt and in the small glimpse you saw was Dr. Brenner hunched down his chair while wiping away the blood from his lip again, he must have opened it from eating dinner which was also beside him on his desk.
Sure it was impulsive to walk towards his office but once your hand touches to door to peek further in, Dr. Brenner’s eyes are on your figure to see who was interrupting him but when he saw it was only you, his face eased. “What brings you here?” He questions with that damn smile that first catches your eye. You subconsciously smile back at him, “It looks like you need help with that.” You lift up your hand to point to the cut, gesturing you’d be kind enough to help him. He looks down and chuckles before glancing back up at you, “Yeah, I might need some help.” He agrees with your assistance and as you take your first steps in his office. What hit you first was the temperature, why was it so cold everywhere?
Walking to him you got a closer look into the office, which was concreted dark but what adored the walls to ceiling were bookshelves, but not filled with books. It was completed with VHS tapes, all had scotch tape lining the side with a handwritten tagline. But to be polite you looked away as you thought you were gawking at this point. Turning your attention back at the man in front of you, he pulls up a chair beside him.
“Where’s your first aid?” You ask and he simply points to his desk, specifical at the bottom drawer, once opening it you hold it up slightly excitedly. You swiftly sit down and turn towards him. Still, with the height difference, he had to place his elbows on his thighs. His eyes pierce yours and you feel your face turn red, but quickly your gaze turns to the first aid and opens it. Looking back up at him with a sanitizing wet cloth. You could just wince at the pain this was going to cause Dr. Brenner. You reach forward his face and take it in your opposite hand, all while the meanwhile your dominant hand slowly makes its way to his lip, and before you proceed to clean him up you warn him, “This might hurt, I’m sorry.” You crack a smile to break the tension you’ve created and he quickly tells you, “Nothing to be sorry for little one.” With his words, you swallow harshly.
You lightly dab the open wound and he hisses with the pain, his chest heaves but he doesn’t move away from you, rather leaning into your touch. You try your best to be gentle, you stare intently at the cut while Dr. Brenner looked directly at you, his eyes never living you. You could feel his eyes boring holes at you, “So why do you think Eleven has no memory of the events you’re showing her.” You try to make conversation to somewhat ease your anxiety with being so up and close with him, that you could practically feel his breath on you. His mouth opens to begin talking and that's the cue for you to stop cleaning that cut and the move on his cheek instead. “Well, our brains have a defense mechanism in place.” He begins, “To protect it from the bad memories, from trauma.” He slightly winces from the alcohol cleaning his cut before continuing. “She buried these memories long ago. She had demons from her past. And if we go too fast, I’m afraid she’ll get lost in the darkness. And if she’s lost, so are we all. I can't lose her.”
He speaks softer as you inch closer to get a closer look at him, unsure if he needed a few stitches or not. You were practically on top of him, stepping out of your chair to get a better look at him to see if he had any more scratches or cuts to clean up for him. Both your hands hold onto his face. You were so close together, his warmth surrounding you like your own personal blanket. By the way, his eyes are half-lidded and lips slightly agape, he must have been feeling the same way you were. 
This wasn’t for personal gain, but something in you told you that this was wrong of you. But just looking down at him was enough for your mind to change. He was rough and intimidating. Yet, there’s a softness all the same. His smile was brought up again. It renders you stupid. Makes you unable to stop. And so, in a move that may be ridiculous, dangerous, and all manner of other things, holding your breath, you brush a soft kiss against the top of his lips.
He’s so fucking warm and smells like the cologne you just got a glimpse of earlier. As quickly you went in for the kiss was how quickly he pulled back. His hands snake their way to yours and pull your hands down, at the same time he stands up. You face him with nerves, this was a mistake, he must have been furious - that was very inappropriate and unprofessional of you.
Without a word, he reaches out to hold your face and gives you a kiss, connecting his lip to yours, you felt your body melt into him. His lips were soft and the kiss was tender. As your positions swapped, you reach up to grab a hold of his button-down, crumbling the collar as it was the only thing you could grab. As if it was the only one keeping you up at the moment. Which rightfully so was. One of his hands trails behind your neck and presses further into the kiss. With deepening the kiss, you press your body closer to him, your chest pushing up against his. Leaving you to softly sigh in bliss. He breaks the kiss with a huff of amusement. “You like that?” Dr. Brenner questions in your ear, his voice is oddly husky. That firm pressure against your chest wavers. Tongue darting nervously across his lips, he looks like he wants to say more but breaks off, his throat bobbing in a tight swallow. “Fuck.” That single word contains nothing but frustration. It drips from him. Rolls off his broad shoulders and you can’t quite bring yourself to tear your gaze away from him. As if reeled in by some invisible force, he kisses you again, this time his tongue swipes across your lips for entrance.
With another small sigh, his tongue enters your mouth, your mind is spinning. His mouth was hot, his body radiating and vibrating against yours. The only thing stopping you was the tiny moans escaping past your lips. His hands wander down your body, taking everything in a count for. He was quick to compliment you, but says, “How come we've never met before today?” He mutters. Though he is very chatty, Dr. Brenner doesn’t stop and you’re glad he doesn’t.
Little moans leave as you answer him, "I don't know, maybe ask Dr. Owens." At the mention of his fellow doctor seems to tick a nerve for him. As he backs you up to his desk, instinctively hoping your ass on the work space. Knocking down files and loose papers without worry coming from his end. "Oh - I will definitely be talking to Sam after this." His words are smooth as butter, even as he speaks somewhat ill of your boss. You couldn't complain or spark another conversation as his lips are back on yours. He's taking what he wants and you're letting him without a second thought. 
Your hands shift down his freshly pressed shirt and guide down his chest towards his belt. Your fingers dance along the buckle, you try and fiddle to remove the older man's belt but being in the position you were in and the slightly dizziness from the lack of air he was providing you from the kisses. This was a new one for you, being all bump' and grind with a higher up but the cliché of it all made you hot. Your body was on fire with his large hands on you, you're barely comprehending what he said next, "After this I'm going to personally assign you with me." And if you weren't moaning and grabbing at every piece of this man in front of you, now you were.
The sad so-called attempt to take off his trousers, Dr. Brenner decided to help you out rather than himself. Once again, he lifts your hands off of him and pulls away. For a quick moment he just looks at you, your swollen pink lips and dazed eyes. You're panting and still lean towards him. Brenner's eyes darken and he licks over his lips. “I want nothing more than to bend you over this desk, and fuck you until everyone in this whole damn building hears you screaming my name.” It was his first time hearing you moan his name, practically drooling at the thought of him doing exactly as he speaks of. 
You push yourself back into him, giving him a clear sign that you wanted him right there and then. No more waiting. Whimpering as he kisses your cheek, "Please." You quietly moan for him. He backs up to look at you, "You're pretty when you beg, little one." The nickname he was providing you was truly doing something to you, beyond from what you've ever experienced when it came to sexual exploration. And from how your eyes light up at the pet name Dr. Brenner knew it did something to you as well. 
At this slight distraction you're in, Dr. Brenner's hands slid under your blouse.  His fingernails lightly scraping your skin, his hands are cold compared to your body's rising temperature, causing small goosebumps. Once his palm reaches your bra, you mewl for him to take it off - no, begged him. With pleading eyes he follows suit and takes off your blouse along with it. It was a quick clip of the bra to drop down to the desk and how cold it was in the office your nipples harden instantly. That familiar smirk shining on his face as he gazes over you, slowly his hands are back on your body from your waist and make their way to your breast. You moan his name again as the pad of his thumb crosses your erect nipples. 
You squirm under his touches and gropes and he seems to be enjoying the view. You paw at his shirt again as it felt unfair for you to be the only one with the shirt on. Which at first ignored it, but the way your hands were running up and down across his chest was the breaking point. He painfully takes his hands off of you and starts to loosen his tie, just that act made you give him your best doe eyes you could conjure up. You squeeze your boobs together to give him a small show all while he unbuttons his shirt, getting distracted all too easily. You watched, enamored, while he didn’t have a six pack, you were pleasantly surprised by a fair amount of definition. But once the job is done he's back to kissing you. 
During your kiss he doesn't let you try a second time to take off his pants, he does it himself one handed while the other holds you close to him. Even if your eyes were closed you could tell by the sound of the belt clicking and the shuffling coming from his end that his pants were off and once you separated to catch a breath, you stood corrected. The prominent impression of his cock pressing against his boxers. 
"Don't worry little one, I'll take care of you." He tells you as he pushes you down on the hard, yet cold desk. Your back firmly pinned down, your cheek flushed compared to the dark oak. Moaning at his strength, he makes you push away any other thoughts but him. He clouded your brain in a thick fog. He has to bend down to pull your pants, which was easy and swift. All that was left of both of you were your underwear, he was about to change that for you first. As he was crotched down and his face so close to your thighs, he places tender kisses atop of them. Slowly but surely going up and closer to your panties. 
You lift yourself with your elbows to watch this encounter and as you look down at Dr. Brenner was already watching your expression and how your body reacted to his touches. 
His hands pull apart from your inner thigh and spread them across his desk. Your cotton white panties left with a small patch right in the center and you knew from the moment he opened your legs in the air hit your clothed pussy. His eyes travel back to you, ready to tease you, but the redness in your cheeks told him you were embarrassed enough and this time let it slide. His eyes don't leave your gaze as he lowers himself the closer to your panties, right over the center, where the patch was, and soft at first planted a kiss. Immediately snapping your thighs around his hand from the sudden affection towards your clothed clit. 
He chuckles at your expense, sending vibrations through your body and leaving you moaning again and rubbing your thighs tighter around his head, this time he separates your legs again. He once again pressed another kiss, but was harder and pressed further to draw a reaction from you. And the reaction he made you play out was your hands gripping his silver hair. Writhing out of instinct. It shocked you, but what shocked you more was that he didn't stop as quickly as before. 
But before you could plead him to continue as he stopped kissing your most sensitive spot, he bites down at the hem of your panties and drags it off of your thighs with his teeth. This act alone made you clench around nothing, this had to be a dream? There was no way this was happening in your reality.
But thankfully it was reality and when he was done taking off your panties, he threw them with the rest of the clothes. You must have been one of god's favorites today with this happening to you. He comes back up to you to give you a chase kiss, you could slightly taste yourself on his lips. But the reason he separates was evident when he pulled down his boxers, as sound as his dick was out and it sprung. His tip bright red, almost angry from all the fooling around you two have been doing together. A prominent vein coming from the shaft to the middle section squeezed, precum dribbles out in small pebbles. From the sight you were given it looked painful as it twitched in the cold atmosphere. Your eyes react up back to his, again with that damn smirk as he previously saw you gawk at him. And there was another reason to gawk, he was impressive for the length and overall the strength he still had for being on the older side. But rather that made you even hotter than before. 
You both connect lips and as he steps even closer to you, you felt his cock press into your inner thigh. Throbbing at the contact with skin and you both knew there was no coming back from what happens next between the both of you. He proceeds to ask, "Are you sure little one?" He asks for permission and how could you deny him by the sound of the soothing voice and how he coos, lifting your chin up so you were forced to look at him. And he didn't search for a nod, he wanted vocal permission. "Yes -  Please, I need you." You would cringe at another time at your whining but at the moment you were desperate for him and his touch. It was pitiful on your end, you should know better than to be having office sex with a man that could easily be your father. But something in you was calling out for him and vice versa. 
And with your consent, he lines himself and pushes himself slowly. He groans at the warmth you wrapped him in and a squeal coming from you. He wasn't the girthest, but it was the length that was making you moan the way you are. Embarrassingly loud at the first few thrusts, but you put your hand between you and him. Signaling that you needed a minute to adjust to him, and he gladly gave you time. 
It took you a few to let it sink in and get past the pain, but he got the idea once you started bucking your hips towards him to get friction. Your hand finds the edge of the desk and holds onto it as if it was for dear life itself. He pulls back once again, knowing that he was going to do the same slam as before, which he does. His hands gripping on your hips, his fingertips digging into your sink, for sure bruises will be left for you to find tomorrow. But it would be a pleasant reminder of this event. His pace is steady as continues. Moaning as he thrust into you. The back of your thighs getting pressed roughly against the desk. 
“That’s it little one, let me hear those pretty noises.” He praises you in your ear. Moving your hair out of the way, he crouches down to leave a trail of small kisses from your shoulder to the back of your neck, causing you to visibly shiver. He chuckles. “Does it feel good?” The lewd sound of skin on the skin only served to heighten the burn of arousal gathering in your stomach. He was hitting your walls at an impossibly deep and low angle. You could feel every inch of him as he struck you over and over, the increase in force conveying the desperation and indescribable nature of his attraction to you. A fire started to burn low in the pit of your stomach, once again it render you idiotic and moaning pornographically. Your hands went to hold the taut muscles of his back when he moved inside of you.
It was becoming particularly difficult to focus on anything other than him. Your hands continue to paw and claw, Your legs pulling him closer to close the gap between the both of you. his hand holds onto your stomach, pushing you closer to him. No room for you to do anything else but take his pounding. That warmth building gradually, almost about to bust, slowly falling apart bit by bit. His pace never stopped, he can tell you were close, how your cunt was squeezing his cock. Your eyes shut tightly closed and you lean further into the desk below you.
That’s when his hand came to your face, somewhat forcing you to open your eyes to look up at him. He din’t speak but rather lowered himself toward you and began to kiss you. Llapping tongues together in a heated yet messy kiss, too distracted from pleasure receiving and giving. It was only meant to connect further with one another. Again, if were anyother occasion you would be embarrassed to see yourself give in so easily and give yourself to a man you just meet mere hours prior, but damn did he have a hold of you. Wrapped around his finger and you weren’t going to complain either, by the way he was fucking you. You look at him, those doe eyed, dazed, fucked out eyes. Those beautiful eyes that he could look at for days. He could almost laugh at how easily you were moaning at each thrust he did. You were needy for him, even if that meant you already had him. You hoped this wouldn’t end before anything started between you and him. You wanted to plead out for him, but you closed your lips feeling your cheeks burn at the thought.
"What? Your pretty little mouth can't say anything?" Your mouth a gape and all you could say or more like make was a broken sob. Is cock so deep inside you, his tip kissing your cervix. He was so rough with your body, like a rag doll, yet he also cared if he'd hurt you. Tears slip past your eyes, you shouldn’t cry but you love it. You loved every interaction with him and every passing moment you were having with him right now. With the small amount of time he’s been with you, he already knew how to fuck you well as your legs quivered, your hands gripping upon any part of him. You were pulsating rapidly around him, his cock twitched from each squeeze close to his release.
You could barely make any noise, your eyes rolling back in your head. Your chest heaving with heat rising ever so close to bursting. Bucking your hips to meet his. “You close little one? Huh?” He finally says or mocks, and you cry out in relief and then shut your eyes once again. You start to convulse around his cock and he simply continues fucking away your orgasm. You moan his name over and over again,as if was the only word you knew. As if it was symnapny, he let you goan and whine out, from his end he was enjoy the view. You dig your nails against his skin without realizing and then you feel your orgasm rip through you. This was heaven, this was your heaven. There was no other thing that has made you feel this good. You saw burst of light, little stars as you flutter your eyes open. You couldn’t mutter anything to him, but the way your body started to whirl around him, he knew you were becoming over stimulated, but thankful he was close.
Your still fucked out, but you could feel his cock twitch inside and his thrust becoming slower. His voice groans out, watching as he grunts away. “I love how you moan my name.” His voice is horse and possible even more seductive than before. He shuts his eyes. Cursing while moaning out your name. You though he was about to cum inside of you, until you saw his hand pull out his cock and lazily lifted it up to your stomach. He bucked his hips in his handful. Right then in quick bursts, his cum shoots out. He throws his head back at the sensation. Dr. Brenner gasps for breath.
He takes his time before slowly opening his eyes and from the sight he was bestowed of was going to be the death of him. If it wasn't going to be Eleven, it was going to be you who is going to be the death of him and you were sure of it. From what he saw, your fingers curled up and shifted down to your stomach. Your eyes locked on his as you open your mouth and before he knew it, you picked up his load with your index and middle finger, sliding his cum across your tongue. Shitting your lips between your fingers and began sucking them, both coming out with a pop. He swallowed harshly at your act, still looking up at him with innocent eyes. 
—--
Both of you finished up with putting your tops on before hearing an urgent knock on Dr. Brenner’s door. Quickly you push up your pants without your panties, previously looking for them, but you reckoned that it wouldn’t matter at the moment. You rather have pants on than nothing. Dr. Brenner swiped down his button down as he peaked open the door, and he couldn’t stop the intruder before they come in without any more warning. And of course it had to be him, Dr. Owens. At first he didn’t see you but once he did he says, “I didn’t know you had guest.” He somewhat chuckles, but he glances at you. Your eyes wide at the sight of him. A couple of minutes ago Dr. Brenner was balls deep in you, and you hoped Dr. Owen’s didn’t suspect anything. Though the blush arise on your cheeks was a telling sign. “Should I come back later?” He questions your nervousness, you were about to answer but Dr. Brenner cut you off, probably for the better.
“No - No, we were just talking about the progress we could do together for Eleven if we were sectioned together. Also like an assistant but with a lot more responsibilities as she is a scientist.” He speaks and as you were looking at him, your eyes glance down to his pants pocket. The smallest amount of your panties peaked out, your flash floods with red. If Dr. Owen just happened to glance down he would notice them as well. “I think she deserves a promotion from all the help she’s done for you, don’t you think Sam?” Dr. Brenner reaches out and gives a small playful slap across Dr. Owen;s shoulder. A smile brightly shown to ease Sam to agree. “Well, um I’ll think about it.” He responds and looks over at you, you smile as well. 
Dr. Owen’s gazes between the both of you, “Yeah I’ll think about it.”
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makethiscanon · 2 years
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Stranger Things Season 4 Spoilers:
Am I the only one who sees 001 as a pretty straightforward evil guy and not so manipulative? I mean sure, he poses as Peter the orderly but that, I assume, is Dr. Brenner's doing.
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To me, he seems like a(n admittedly unhinged or probably sociopathic) guy who plays nice because his situation is hopeless, who finally finds someone like him who he takes pity on and decides to save, who takes revenge against his oppressors once his shackles are broken, who then lashes out (at Eleven specifically), feeling hurt because the first person he's felt a real connection to rejects him.
He says so himself, that he doesn't want to pretend to be something he isn't, like his parents always did.
He's not completely manipulative. Just lonely in a world that doesn't make sense to him. Still evil. But more straightforward.
Edit: I love a healthy, friendly debate so I'll elaborate on a couple of bits to give my reasoning. I'm not saying I'm correct, but it's how I see it:
001 was always a lonely kid who didn't hang around children his age. There is a theme of bullying in s4 so perhaps he was bullied for being 'different' which caused him to isolate from others he couldn't connect with.
Then come age 12, he's locked in a lab and, unless we find out otherwise in s4pt2, he stayed there. He had no chance to form attachments or mature socially.
So many years later when El shows up, there's a chance his stunted development still makes him think "ooo finally, someone like me. FRIEND." and so he connects with this little kid who 'can't be controlled like the others' like him.
Without feeling a connection to the other children in the programme, he sees them as nothing more than the animals he butchered as a kid and ends them all when he punishes the lab for what it did to him.
So now he's free, and he's got El, his new companion, with him. Time to start this new grand adventure. Only, she says no. And suddenly he realises that he misjudged her. She's not like him and doesn't see the world the same way he does.
If he truly didn't care for El, he could have butchered her alongside everyone else once the chip was removed. But actually he dragged her to safety when the guards attacked. He only attacked her once he realised they didn't share the same ideals. 
Sure, he mighty have had future nefarious plans that included her because she was ‘the strongest’, but then he clearly didn’t need her all that much if he was willing to end her once she rejected him.
“Tricked you? No, I saved you. You are a prisoner here, just like me.” - 001, Episode 7.
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Stranger Things Masterlist
Notes: Anyone you don’t see here, I don’t write for. I don’t write for the kids, sorry.
Codes
🦋 = Headcannons
💄 = Fem Reader
☘️ = GN Reader
🌷 = Fic
🖤 = Angst
🏳️‍🌈 = Gay
✨= Fluff
🌚 = NSFW
—-///—-
Eddie Munson
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To Be Continued…
Steve Harrington
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To Be Continued…
Joyce Byers
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To Be Continued…
Karen Wheeler
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To Be Continued…
008 / Kali
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To Be Continued…
Dr Martin Brenner
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Papa’s Pet 🌚💄🌷
001 / Henry Creel / Peter Ballard / Vecna
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To Be Continued…
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Dear diary
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Warnings: full on Stalker Peter
•••••••••••••••••••••••
There was another note on my bed today
But it was different this time since there was a dying flower on my desk
No worries… I’ve told the police, but they told me they had better things to do
They think I’m just some silly girl who most likely has a secret admirer
A stalker one
One that’s probably watching me write all this down right now
Oh what will I do?
Maybe I’ll run away…
Yeah maybe that will work
Sincerely Y/n
One week later
He followed me…
I can see him right now…
Oh shit! He’s approaching me…
Sincerely
Y/n
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Why is she scared of me?
Why doesn’t she see that I’m trying to protect her from the truth of this hell hole?
Maybe if I tell her the truth she’ll be less afraid of me
That’s what I’ll do!
Love
Henry Creel
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Holy shit!!!
This guy is insane!
He told me that there’s this scientist looking for me to do experiments on me!
God the police won’t believe me this time…
Or maybe they will since I have actual proof this time!
Sincerely
Y/n
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Third person Pov:
“Months had gone by since Y/n has gone missing” the reporter says as she looks at the camera
“There’s been no sign of her” the reporter adds on
Henry watches the reporter from a distances with her diary being held tightly around his chest
He decided to rip out the last journal entry she got to write
He had waited until the reporter had left the scene to put it somewhere
Once the news reporter had left, Henry goes off to Y/n’s house
He knew her parents would be home, that’s why he left the diary entry on the door
It was being held up by tape, so it wouldn’t fly away
Henry knocks on their door and then quickly scurried off
Her father had opened up the door and in the corner of his eye noticed the diary entry
“Y/m/n!” Her father shouts for his wife as he read the entry
Dear diary:
Henry was right… I should’ve listened to him…
I should’ve known this day would come
When he found me after a long time in hiding
Papa
Love:
Y/n
Ps, I’m sorry for not being honest to you my friend… I should’ve told you I knew this would happen… but I guess I was just happy that it was finally over with… and if anyone is reading this, please get Henry and Jim Hopper
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kaylawritesfics · 2 years
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Could we get a Peter Ballard x fem!reader fanfic where they fall asleep cuddling in her bed and Peter accidentally forgets to go back to his own room so they get found out by Brenner? With Peter being all protective and ‘don’t touch her’ over the reader and like trying to take all the blame and hiding her behind him to try and keep her safe? Fluffy ending please. Sorry I know it’s pretty detailed lol
71. “You can’t take her, please! I’ll do anything, I swear!”
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summary: after he spends the night in your room, your secret relationship with peter is discovered.
pairing: peter ballard x fem!reader
warnings: mentions of violence, slight torture?
note: this is a little long i will add a read more tag to it tomorrow !!
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You woke to the soft sounds of Peter’s delicate breathing. His messy, blonde hair was sprawled across your pillows and his head was tucked into the crook of your neck. His arms were wrapped loosely around your waist and below the white blanket that was covering the two of you, your legs were intertwined, creating a mess of limbs.
You slowly turned your body to face him, dragging a single finger down the bridge of his nose and across his lips. His face was illuminated only by the small stream of light coming in through the blinds of your window. You studied the details of his face; the way his lips were a little chapped, the way his long eyelashes fell gently onto his cheeks, and the redness of his nose, which indicated the winter weather could be felt even from inside the lab. A small smile made its way onto his face, giving away his awakening. “You’re staring,” he whispered, his eyes still closed as his arms tightened around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer to him. “You’re so beautiful, Peter,” you whispered back, continuing to draw little shapes across his face with your index finger. His nose scrunched as you found a ticklish point near the base of his ear.
Quick, constant footsteps throughout the hallway outside you room alerted both of you to the time. It was well past the time Peter would usually sneak away back to his own room. A pit of anxiety began to grow in your stomach as Peter’s eyes fluttered open and he held a finger to his lips, signaling you to remain quiet. He calmly placed a soothing kiss to the crown of your head, untangling himself from you and standing up. He had fallen asleep in his work clothes, which were now wrinkled and he looked quite disheveled. Doing his best to make himself seem more presentable, he placed an ear against your door, listening intently for any sign of approaching footsteps. When he concluded that it was safe, he cracked the door open, peering out. Before exiting, he sent you a grin and a promise to see you later.
The rainbow room was your favorite in the entire building. The children were allowed to play and explore using their talents and you were allowed more time with Peter, who often patrolled the room with you. You noticed that he looked far more presentable than he did that morning, his hair was neatly fixed and he had changed his clothes, opting for an outfit with less wrinkles. To preserve the secrecy of your relationship, the two of you chose not to interact very much in front of the children, however, the lingering glances spoke enough for the both of you. From his place next to 011, Peter caught your stare, sending you a barely noticeable wave and a tight smile.
The sound of a door opening caught the attention of everyone in the room. Dr. Brenner entered the room, eyeing each of the children before his eyes finally landed on you. “Miss Y/L/N and Mr Ballard, I need to see both of you in my office,” the tone of his voice frightened you and you sent a worried glance towards Peter, who kept his eyes on Brenner. The two of you followed Dr. Brenner out of the rainbow room and down the scarily white hallways of the lab.
Brenner’s office was a place you had visited very rarely. The walls were white and decorated only by various awards he’d won over the years. Everything seemed to have a specific place and was organized neatly. Two guards stood menacingly on either side of the room and you gulped as you suspected what this was about. Brenner took a seat behind his desk, motioning for you and Peter to take the two chairs across from him. “I suspect the two of you know what this is about,” Brenner leaned forehead, intertwining his fingers on top of his desk. “Perhaps you should blame Mr. Ballard’s blatant ignorance and disregard for security cameras,” Brenner’s dark eyes fell on you as he spoke, his tone becoming more hostile as he continued. When neither you not Peter responded, Brenner motioned the guards forward. “Take them to the electric shock room,” he demanded, standing and casually stretching his limbs.
Peter’s chair created a loud screeching noise that captured the attention of the room as he abruptly stood up. He struggled against the guard’s grip, thrashing about as he tried to free himself. The other guard quickly grabbed you by the arms, dragging you slightly. “Don’t touch her!” Peter’s unusually gruff voice rang through the air as he tried to reach for you. “It was my fault! Please, she didn’t do anything!” He begged, tears filling his waterline as he attempted once more to free himself. “You can’t take her, please! I’ll do anything, I swear!” Brenner seemed to perk up at Peter’s words and emotions, holding up a hand to stop the guard from dragging you from the room. “If Mr. Ballard wants to take the blame for this, we’ll let him. Escort Miss Y/L/N to her room and take Mr. Ballard to the electric shock room.” Peter’s eyes never left yours as he was violently dragged from the room and down the hall.
You didn’t see Peter for the rest of the day, choosing to lock yourself into your room and hide in your bed instead. As night fell, your room became too dark to see, however, as your door knob rattled and turned, a bright light filled the room from the hall. You peaked up over your blanket, watching as Peter made his way slowly into your room, softly closing the door behind him. A groan escaped his lips as he sat down on your bed, pain evident on his face. “Peter?” You mumbled, crawling over to him and wrapping your arms around his back, resting your head on his back. “Hi, darling,” he greeted, visibly relaxing at your touch. You gently pulled him down to lay beside you, your hand finding his hair. “Why’d you take the blame?” You inquired, running a hand through soft, blonde locks. He smiled wryly, closing his eyes at the feeling of your hands tugging through his hair.
“I’d do anything to keep you safe.”
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honeybadgerwritings · 2 years
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Don’t Worry Your Pretty Little Head
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Pairing: Peter Ballard x Afab Fem! Reader - 001 x Afab Fem! Reader
Requested: request for smut prompts 8 28 29 33 with Peter Ballard or Jamie, whichever you think is more fitting! i love ur writing <3 hope ur doing well
Summary: An exhausted, overworked reader is forced to stay on shift over night. Can Peter convince her to take a break?
Warnings: Smut, Finger Sucking, Fingering, Oral (Fem Recieving), Impact Play (Pussy Spanking), Extreme Overstimulation, Dumbification, Praise Kink (LMK if I missed anything.)
A/N: I feel like a whore... that’s all
Prompts:
8. “Suck on my fingers baby.”
28. “Does it make you nervous when I stare?”
29. “Your thighs are shaking so much.”
33. “Just relax for me sweet girl, I’ll make you feel good.”
⚠️ This fic is 18+ so minors DNI ⚠️
———————
You aren’t supposed to be here.
You’re supposed to be at home on your couch, eating a microwaved TV dinner and watching sitcom reruns on your old, barely working television, much like you normally do after your shifts are over. But no. You’re stuck at your shitty job overnight.
Because your boss physically will not let you leave.
If you didn’t work for a top secret government facility, you would definitely be concerned about the legalities of this situation. However, because you do, you have to deal with these types of things no questions asked. Hawkins National Laboratory is not a place anyone should cross, or they might end up six feet underground with nobody looking for them.
There had been a fight earlier in the day involving two of the children, which meant quite a bit of paper work needed to be done. Normally it would be split up between the two nurses who were on duty at the time, because otherwise it would take way too long to complete.
But unfortunately for you, your secondary nurse came up with some stupid excuse to leave early, complaining of an upset stomach and nausea. Funnily enough, at lunch she’d been talking about going out with friends tonight and “getting wasted.”
You could see right through her lies, but much to your dismay, Dr. Martin Brenner could not. For someone who claims to be so intelligent, he can be real thick in the head sometimes.
He had sent the other nurse home with a wave of his hand, before turning to you with an annoyed, “You are not to leave this building until that paperwork is complete. Am I understood?”
You opened your mouth to tell him that was unattainable for you, but your office door was shut in your face before you could even make a sound.
That was five hours ago, and everyone else had since gone home, give or take a couple night guards and the overnight orderly. After hours, the level of staff significantly dwindles down to just those who are here for security purposes.
So here you are, typing away on your computer, mindlessly entering file after file into the system. Your eyes hurt from staring at the screen for so long, your fingers ache from the never ending typing and writing you’ve been doing, and your brain is absolutely fried.
You had hoped you could get it all done in time to leave and get at least a few hours of sleep, but that was proving to be impossible. You just want take a break from all this thinking and go home. Home to your warm, comfy bed.
You can’t help but close your eyes, longing to be wrapped up in your cozy sheets with nothing else in the world to worry about. Your head resting on the cold side of your pillow as the fireplace crackles next to you. You don’t even realize your fingers have remained pressed down on the keyboard until a hand gently clasps your shoulder.
“I may not be an expert darling, but I don’t think this is quite the information they’re looking for.”
Your eyes shoot open and you jump slightly at the sound of the voice. You glance over your shoulder to see your friend Peter in all his glory, staring down at you in nothing but amusement. You can’t help but stare back, eyes tracing his every - perfectly sculpted - feature. It’s almost unfair to you how beautiful he is; some days you even find yourself feeling jealous. The rest of the time though, you’re swooning.
As cheesy as it may sound, it’s the truth. It might be the way he speaks to with such tenderness, or maybe the way he gently touches you; one of his hands always placed on the small of your back, on your shoulder, or sometimes even in your hair when he feels like playing with it. Your favorite though?
Anytime you’re even a little nervous, he doesn’t hesitate to grasp your hand into his. It makes you flustered every time without fail, though he finds it endearing.
He always makes the same face when he’s amused with you too, a smirk resting on his lips and his eyes lighting up while he teases you about your bright pink cheeks. Much like the same face he’s making at you right now.
Oh, wait.
“Sorry, what’d you say?”
His smirk grows, and he huffs out a small laugh. One of his hands moves to brush the hair from your face, while the other reaches over, gently pulling your finger from where it had been pressing down on one of the keys.
Your brows furrow as you turn back towards your computer, seeing the screen filled with nothing but the letter “P.” You can’t help but groan, dropping your head into your crossed arms. Peter chuckles, sitting down on the table next to the computer, watching your utter misery.
“I thought you only work day shift.” You say, muffled.
“I don’t know where you got that idea from. I work plenty of night shifts.” You can’t help but raise your head, staring at him, dumbfounded. “How the fuck do you do it? This is hell.”
He huffs out a sigh, his amusement now being mixed with pity as he studies your features. You look exhausted. Hair that was once neatly tucked away into your bun has now fallen messily, and your eyes have formed dark circles under them, only highlighting how tired you must be.
“I heard what happened. Brenner told me to ‘key an eye on you’ in fact.”
Your face falls into one of disbelief, “You’re kidding.” He shakes his head, and you roll your eyes, repeatedly pressing the backspace button on the keyboard, “This is so stupid. It’s already almost midnight, and I’m only halfway through this stuff. My mind is fried Peter. It hurts to think.”
He watches you for another moment as you type away maniacally, entering the correct information into the system this time.
“You know…” he reaches over, placing one of his hands gently over yours, causing you to look at him, “It doesn’t hurt to take a break once in a while.”
You think about it for a second, and only a second, before shaking your head and continuing to type, “I can’t, I have to get this done. I want to actually get some sleep tonight.”
He frowns, but doesn’t say anything else as he leans back to watch you work.
You continue typing for another few minutes, completely zoning out as you enter in file after file. You expect Peter to leave you to your devices, but he does just the opposite. He stays right where he is, eyes focused on you. Normally you don’t mind comfortable silences, they’re usually pretty peaceful, but this is anything but that.
At some point, it becomes harder to focus on the work before you. You become hyper aware of how his eyes burn through you, and can practically feel them watching your every move, raking up and down your body.
You chew on your lip in an attempt to ignore him and keep working. And if you just so happen to be pressing your thighs together, you can only hope that he doesn’t take notice.
Except he does.
“Something wrong sweetheart?” He asks, a teasing edge in his tone. You try to ignore him but he stands to face you, and you bite your lip even harder.
Finally, you look up at him, your eyes meeting his devilishly blue ones. He’s still got that stupid smirk on that stupidly handsome face with his stupidly perfect hair and-
Goddammit.
“Stop it.”
He raises an eyebrow, playing dumb, “Stop what?” He knows exactly what he’s doing.
You huff and shake your head, eyes rolling as you turn back towards the computer, “You know what.”
He hums, pausing for a moment before he leans down, lips inches from your ear, “Why?” He whispers, and dear god you’re about to collapse in this god forsaken desk chair, “Does it make you nervous when I stare?”
Your breath hitches, and your eyes pinch shut. You can’t help but dig your fingernails into your palms in an effort to ground yourself. If only you could get it together, because this really isn’t the best time or place for this to be happening to you. You find yourself rubbing your thighs together again, not even caring if he notices this time.
You try to say his name in an attempt to be firm with him, to warn him to stop.
“Peter…”
You fucking whimper it.
He wastes no time, spinning the desk chair so you’re facing him. He places his hands on both armrests as he leans over you, effectively trapping you in.
“Oh sweetheart…” He cooes at you, head tilting in mock sympathy, and you can feel your resolve slipping away, “Why don’t we take a little break hm?”
You turn your head back towards the computer for a moment, that tiny little part of you fighting so hard to stay focused, “I…I don’t-”
He gently grips your chin, tilting your head back to face him, and god, if you aren’t the prettiest thing he’s ever laid eyes on. Your pupils are so unbelievably dilated, your cheeks are flushed a deep shade of red, and your bottom lip is plump from your consistent biting.
With the way your hair messily falls into your face and your chest heaves with stuttered breaths, he wants nothing more than to spread you out on a table, and have his way with you until you’re a trembling mess beneath him. He trails his hand up slightly to cup your cheek, thumb gently stroking over your brow bone.
“I bet that brain of yours is so tired isn’t it? All those thoughts running through your head- they’re just too much for you to handle aren’t they?”
Your legs are trembling and your head is spinning. The way he’s speaking is so new to you, but it has you ready to drop to your knees in front of him. He’s not too far off either; you’re so tired and your brain hurts. You need a break. You need-
“You need someone to make them all go away don’t you?”
Jesus fucking Christ.
You inhale sharply, his words going straight to your core. Your mouth opens and closes as you try to pry a response from your muddled thoughts, slightly resembling a fish out of water. You give up eventually, opting to let out a desperate whine instead. You can’t decide what’s more distracting- the ache between your legs or the way his hand cradles your face.
His thumb moves to trace over your bottom lip, while a mocking pout settles on his own, “Poor thing, so tired and dumb that she can’t even form a proper sentence.”
He’s right, he’s so unbelievably right. Which is why you don’t even realize that you’ve wrapped your lips around his thumb and are gently sucking on it. His eyes are filled with pure hunger as he watches you with parted lips of his own.
He gently pulls his thumb out from between your lips, not even giving you a chance to whine before replacing it with both his middle and pointer finger. You continue to look up at him, mindlessly sucking on both digits and letting yourself feel utterly blissful.
“That’s it,” he praises, “suck on my fingers baby.”
You hum in response, closing your eyes as you circle your tongue around them, hollowing out your cheeks. He lets you have your fun for another moment or two, mesmerized by the way you’ve become an absolute mess for him, before slipping his fingers out from your mouth and admiring how the drool slips down your chin.
You whine pathetically as he does so, and he cooes in response, “Shhh, c’mon pretty girl.” He takes your hand, helping you stand from your chair and guiding you over to one of the nursing cots. As he sets you down, he tries to pull away for a moment, but you don’t let him. You grip the front of his crisp white shirt between your fingers and pull him towards you, clashing your lips against his.
He huffs out a laugh against your lips, mumbling, “greedy little thing,” in between kisses. And he’s right, you are greedy, and aching, and desperate to feel him, and only him. You’re entire body is filled to the brim with nothing but desire.
Peter climbs onto the cot, hovering over you as his lips slowly make their way down your jawline, your neck, and your chest. He leaves nothing but endless hickeys in his wake as you come completely undone beneath him. He fumbles with the buttons of your shirt and the clasp of your bra, prying them both off of you, one after the other.
If you had been told five hours ago that you would be here by the end of the night, you would’ve laughed and slammed the door in that person’s face. But yet, here you are, brainless, desperate, and completely at the mercy of Peter, while his lips explore every visible inch of skin on your body.
He practically drools as the sight of your breasts, fondling them in his hands. You can’t help but moan when he attaches his lips to one of your nipples, suckling on it gently while he pinches the other one. He switches back and forth, both for his and your own pleasure. His eyes flick up to your face, watching you writhe in desperation underneath him. His cock is so painfully hard in his pants, but that’s the least of his worries right now, only wanting to hear your pretty little moans as he makes you feel good.
“That’s it darling. Don’t think, just feel. I’ll make it all feel better.”
His lips continue their attack on your skin, making their way down your tummy and to the hem of your skirt. He gently pushes your legs up, and his hands are quick to slide the bottom of the skirt up to your waist, revealing your baby pink panties.
“Oh baby…” He moans at the sight, watching as your hole pulses and flutters underneath the soaked, translucent fabric. His eyes flick up to your face once more, seeing just how fucked out you look, without him even touching you yet, “Look at how messy you are.”
He’s honestly half a second away from devouring your perfect little cunt before your sweet voice fills his ears, pausing his movements entirely.
“P-Peter…” you stutter, nervously. It might be the only word you can physically form right now, but that isn’t stopping you from expressing concern.
You aren’t a virgin, but this type of situation is new to you. Your mind has never been so clouded. It’s not that it doesn’t feel good, because, god does it feel good, you just haven’t experienced such vulnerability before. So you can’t help the way your hands tremble while his face is inches from your exposed pussy.
It takes no more than two seconds for his hand to reach up and grasp yours, squeezing reassuringly, “I got you. I’m right here.” he soothes, and you release a slow breath. He never fails to calm your nerves.
“That’s it,” he smiles, feeling your hand slowly stop trembling in his grasp, “Just relax for me sweet girl, I’ll make you feel good.” You squeeze his hand in return and he can’t help but place a gentle kiss to your inner thigh,
“If you want me to stop at any point, I will. Just say the word. Do you understand?” You nod dumbly in response, only to yelp as his other hand comes down hard against your cunt, spanking it.
“I need you to use your words for this one darling,” he chides, cupping his hand over your drooling cunt in an effort to soothe the pain, “C’mon, you can do it.”
It takes you longer that you care to admit, and you struggle for a moment or two, desperately trying to form enough words in your head for a valid response. Your chest heaves as another pathetic whimper escapes your lips, prompting another slap to your core.
Your whole body jerks this time, forcing out a desperate cry of, “Y-Yes s-sir!”
And if he wasn’t salivating at the mouth before, he certainly is now. He moans in response, thumb circling your clit over your panties, before sliding them to the side.
“Good fucking girl.”
He leans in and places a sweet kiss to your cunt, as if apologizing for striking it. You shudder at that first contact. It sends a shock through you, hyper sensitive with want. He takes your clit between his lips and sucks very gently. Your head is thrown back immediately as he provides you the relief you’ve been needing.
“O-oh Peter…”
His tongue laps at your clit before flicking it through your folds, and looking up at you through his lashes. He loves how you’re reacting as he borderline makes out with your soaked cunt. Your moans fill the air as you take what he gives you, and Peter can’t be more grateful that the nursing rooms are sound proof, your pretty little noises being for his ears only. He dips his tongue down to your weepy hole, circling it around the entrance to taste you.
“So wet for me,” he mumbles against you. You whimper, hole fluttering at how good he’s making you feel, “You taste like heaven.”
He pulls back to lightly blow on your cunt, his saliva cooling in the air. He chuckles as he watches you twitch, licking another strip over your clit and blowing on it again. You whine and shift underneath him, your hips involuntary bucking. He smirks, shushing you gently, before dipping back in to taste you.
Your back arches off of the bed while he sucks and laps at you, upper body rising and falling violently on the bed. It’s almost like he’s been starved for weeks, and your cunt is the only thing that can satiate his hunger. He savors every taste of you, like he’s never eaten anything more luscious.
You hardly even notice when he pauses to remove your panties entirely, slipping them up your legs and placing them in his back pocket.
His tongue dips inside of you while he circles your nub with his thumb. Your hips buck to meet his face and you can’t help but grind into his tongue, feeling the coil in your lower stomach beginning to tighten. Your desperate little moans and gasps fill the room as his tongue plunges inside you. Your paperwork is long forgotten at this point as your thoughts empty out of your head, being replaced with just…
Peter
A small part of you registers the fact that he’s still holding your hand as he eats you out. He’s bringing you to new heights of pleasure, reducing you to nothing but a sobbing thing beneath him, all while holding your hand to let you know your safe. To let you know he’s taking care of you.
That thought alone has your toes curling, and another pathetic cry leaves your lips.
He can tell you’re getting close, based on the intensity of your moans and the way your muscles begin to pulse. He maneuvers so his mouth is back to suckling on your clit, and one of his fingers is circling your entrance. He eyes you above him, watching your mouth part in utter ecstasy as he slides his middle finger inside of you.
You’re far gone – so far gone.
He hardly gets a chance to relish in how tight your perfect little hole is before you’re pushed over the edge, completely coming undone around him.
Choked out moans and pants fill the air, and you cum so hard around his finger it makes you lurch forward, entire body shaking. "Shh, shh,” he hushes you, "There you go. Good girl.”
He pumps his finger in and out of you, working you through your orgasm. Your body collapses back against the bed as you attempt to catch your breath, but Peter has other plans. He releases his grip on your hand, wasting no time attaching his lips to your clit once again, sucking on it with much more intensity this time.
A surprised whine escapes your lips and your back arches, legs trying to close around his head. You’re too sensitive, but he doesn’t care, arm moving to rest across your hips, holding your thighs apart to keep your legs opened, your cunt bared.
“A-Ah!” You cry out, unable to stop the way your legs are trembling. Your hands quickly find their way into his hair, needing something to desperately cling to. His finger continues to pump in and out of you as he devours your poor little cunt. Tears prick at your eyes from how fucking good it feels.
He teases a second finger at the entrance of your leaking hole, before easily plunging it in beside the first one. The stretch feels amazing, and it’s the first thing you’re able to actually vocalize since before he even started eating your cunt.
“God, fuck- feels so good- feels so fucking good Peter…need more.”
He hums around your clit, the vibrations shooting throughout your whole cunt, and your eyes roll back into your head. You can feel him teasing a third finger against your hole and you grind down into it, needing to feel more of him. He obliges, thrusting it into you along with his other two fingers, stretching you out deliciously around them.
Slowly, the sensitivity of it all begins to burn away as your next orgasm approaches once more. It builds up much quicker than before with the way his fingers fuck you open, bringing you right to the edge.
“Oh- oh fuck I-I’m gonna cum…”
You can’t help but look down at him, watching as he licks and sucks on your clit, moaning into you to let you know just how much he’s enjoying it. He eyes look up to meet yours and god he looks so good like this, hair tousled, eyes wild with desire, and his mouth coated in your slick as he suckles on your clit.
The coil within your stomach snaps as you look at him, and you’re pushed over the edge once again. Your grind your pussy down into him as you ride out the high once more, letting him work you through it.
Your slick drips down his hand as your hole clenches around him, and he pulls away from you, placing gentle kisses up and down your trembling inner thighs as you come back down.
You pant, sweat dripping down your forehead as you lay back, feeling completely blissful and floaty. Peter’s definitely done a good job at emptying your head of any and all thoughts that weren’t of him, because you’re so unbelievably fucked out.
“Your thighs are shaking so much.” His voice echoes through your head, as he runs his free hand over them, feeling them tremble from even the slightest touch.
He gives you a few more seconds to rest before a dark chuckles escapes him, and he curls his fingers inside of you deliciously. A strangled gasp fills the air and your whole body twitches when he leans back down, licking a strip from just above your hole, up to your clit. You struggle to form words of protest, already feeling twice as sensitive as last time.
“N-no! Can’t Peter- I can’t!” You sob, tears finally breaking free and rolling down your cheeks.
He lays his head to the side, resting it on your inner thigh. He pulls his fingers out for a moment, using one of them to rim your hole as he looks up at you in mock sympathy.
“Ohhh but I think you can. I think this sweet little pussy of yours can give me one more yeah?” He teases, and you shake your head, squirming, “So that’s what you’re going to give me.” He dives back in, mercilessly attacking your overstimulated cunt.
Thrashing would be the best word to define you right now, hands leaving his hair and finding anchors on the sweat-soaked sheets of the cot beneath you. Your head turns into the nearest pillows in an effort to not sound like you’re being murdered, mascara running and wisps of hair flying and soft laughs that go through your entire soul as Peter watches your struggle. As he enables it.
He returns to those sloppy kisses that let him get a taste of you. Your muscles clench and your hips lift off the bed entirely as his tongue works you out. His lips on your clit and his dispersed praises and those rough licks on your cunt like you’re laid out before him like a meal, which honestly isn’t too far off.
You can’t stop shifting, not with the pain that bubbles in your stomach from your third building orgasm. It’s intense. It’s sensitive. It hurts. You tear at the sheets, then back to his hair, blubbering like an absolute child about it. Your third orgasm approaches so quickly that it’s painful. You’re a sobbing, wild, mess beneath Peter, and he’s absolutely relishing in it.
“P-Peter…” you sob weakly, his name once again being the only word you can piece together in your fucked out little brain. It hurts so bad but it feels so good at the same time, and your senses feel like they’re dialed to 11.
“Shhh,” he places a gentle kiss right above your clit, gently stroking your thigh with the thumb of his free hand, offering you a slight reprieve, “C’mon, you can do it.”
All of a sudden his fingers are pumping into you at an impossibly intense rate, and he’s licking and sucking on your cunt like his life depends on it. Your head is thrown back, and your eyes roll into your head as he walks no, —drags—your orgasm from you with determined fists, leaving nothing in his wake.
You’re seeing hallucinations. You have to be. Colors flying across a canvas of pure white, neon dots and black floaters that have you convinced you may have died and come back to life. Your body- your muscles and sinew and bones and soul shake with the fervor of it. Convulse, really.
Peter sighs as he rises, almost like he’s just had the most refreshing glass of water after hours exercise, yet you feel like the exerted one, twitching from aftershocks and tremors. He slips his fingers from your hole, licking them clean as he admires the aftermath of his attack on your poor cunt.
You’re red, swollen, pulsing, and slickened with sweat and cum and spit. It’s a little beautiful, the way your cum is leaking out of your entrance and onto the sheets. He dips down once more, swiping his tongue against your hole for one final taste of you, and your whole body convulses, a desperate sob ripping from your lips.
“Shhh sweetheart,” he shushes, “No more, I promise. You did so good for me.”
You can hardly even hear him, your mind a thousand miles away. You feel like you’re floating on cloud nine, and your whole body is tingling. Peter climbs up the cot until he’s laying on his side above you, stroking the sweaty hair from your face. You hum in content as his sweet words and praises begin to flood into your ears, bringing you back to the present.
“There she is,” he places a kiss to your hair line, thumb stroking your jaw, “Feeling okay?” You nod still feeling floaty.
“Feels good…” You hum, and he chuckles.
“I’d hope so. It wasn’t too much for you was it?” You shake your head, easing his concern slightly. You pry your eyes open to meet his, smiling at him.
“No. It was perfect Peter, thank you…” you lean up to kiss him again, and he returns it, hand gently cradling your face. The two of you lay back down in the bed, and you rest your head on his chest. His arms find their way around you as he lets you calm down in his arms, the trembling of your body not having fully stopped yet.
It isn’t until you’re half asleep that you remember the paperwork, shooting up and scaring the hell out of Peter. The idea of doing it all, now that you’re even more exhausted, brings you to tears again. But this time, not so happy ones.
“Hey, hey don’t worry about it.” Peter’s arms wrap around your waist, cradling you from behind, “You don’t have to finish the paperwork sweetheart.”
You hiccup, shaking your head, “But Brenner’s gonna be pissed if I don’t and there’s nobody else to get it done because Miranda wanted to go out and get drunk and-”
“Listen to me,” his lips rest up against the shell of your ear, speaking to you like he would the children when they’re scared or upset. He knows that your hypersensitive and floaty state of mind is only adding on to your levels of stress, “Don’t worry your pretty little head about the paperwork. I’m going to get you all cleaned up okay? And I’ll talk with Brenner in the morning, come up with something.”
You turn to look at him, all doe eyed and puzzled, “How do you know he’ll listen to you?”
Peter smiles in return as if he knows something that you don’t, and wipes the tears away before placing a chaste kiss to your cheek, “He always does…I think I’m his favorite,” you roll your eyes, letting the comment go over your head as you grumble about wishing you were the favorite employee. A smirk takes over his face at your blatant naivety.
“I wouldn’t worry too much about it baby, now c’mon, let’s get you cleaned up.” And you oblige, letting him take care of you. He manages find some rags, wetting them and wiping the sweat and tears from your face. He uses another to clean the mess between your legs, gently shushing you when you whine in discomfort. He helps you back into your clothes, aside from your ruined panties, before you both curl up in one of the unused cots for the night.
And the next morning, if any of the other orderlies notice him holding your hand on your way out of your office, well, they don’t say a word.
———
Requested by: @hbaramas
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terror-slut · 2 years
Note
11/10 will be patiently sitting and waiting for another chapter of “Change of Heart”. that man has me WHIPPED and the way you wrote him!? absolutely captivating. <33
Change of Heart
Chapter 02/?? click HERE for this fic’s masterlist!
Reader is a troubled pediatrician at Hawkins lab when she crosses paths with this lovely orderly. Nothing will stand between Peter and his revenge. Not even really pretty distractions.
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Pairing: Peter Ballard x f!reader
Word count: 1403
Ratings & warnings: SPOILERS, period typical sexism, violence, blood, NSFW, swearing, no (Y/N). Ratings may change as chapters are being added.
A/N: bit of a backstory on the reader and more character building for these two <3 I also made a little playlist, check it out if you’d like. Also, I will be updating this fic bi-weekly!
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Thick, visceral silence fills the hallway as they stare at one another. Him, all long limbs and easy going smiles, clad in the same uniform as always. Her, caught like a deer in headlights in nothing but a pastel nightgown.
“What? You’ve never seen a girl in a nightgown before?” Her tone is cold when she breaks the silence, but he can tell the pediatrician is nervous by the way she crosses her arms in front of her chest, and doesn’t dare to look the tall orderly straight in the eye.
“I have. Just not in here,” his reply has her roll her eyes in the back of her head, but Peter watches the slightest blush creep upon her cheeks. How amusing.
“Forgive me if I’m wrong, doctor, but your shift ended hours ago.”
“Yes, it has,” she is purposefully being evasive, her walls are right back up and stronger than ever after Peter smothered her request earlier that day.
Certain that the door she opened for him prior remains ajar, he reminds himself that surrender is not something that comes to him naturally.
“And yet, you’re still here,” a soft smile graces his lips, signaling that there is no bad intent behind his questions, only curiosity. “Why?”
She sighs, taking in the lanky figure of the orderly in front of her. He towers over her, much taller than she herself is. His hands are folded neatly behind his back like always and despite her indecently dressed body and his fully dressed frame, he keeps a respectable distance between the two of them.
She’s never thought of him as anything but friendly, the way he greets her like clockwork despite her insistence on ignoring her coworkers. And although he shut down her request, she knows he cares for the kids at Hawkins lab. Peter Ballard might be the most trustworthy guy in the entire facility. Really, what’s the worst thing that could happen?
“If I tell you, can we get out of this hallway? There’s cameras everywhere and I don’t need my business discussed like it’s the morning news,” He nods, blond hair falling in sync with the incline of his head.
“I will follow your lead, doctor.”
And so, they arrive back at her office, though it looks more like a makeshift bedroom now. On the floor lies a sleeping pad meant for camping trips, and her uniform is neatly folded and placed on the chair where 015 was sitting earlier that day. On her desk stands an electric kettle and a few dishes, ready to be used.
Peter quietly watches as she puts a large cardigan on over her nightgown before facing him again. His arms are crossed in front of his chest now, and her desk supports his frame as he leans against it.
“Tea?” She’s stalling. He shakes his head.
“I’m more interested in you than I am in tea,” the corner of his mouth twitches up in a smile when she tries to hide her reddened cheeks for the second time that night. How easy she is to coax. “Don’t you have a loving husband to return home to? Why is it that you’re still here, when it’s nearly midnight?”
Eat. Sleep. Work. Reproduce. Die.
That comment seems to set her off, her face brewing up a storm.
“Please, don’t. That is the festering root of my all my problems,” she scoffs, walking over to the desk where Peter’s tall frame is leaning against.
“Your husband?”
A bitter laugh escapes her.
“I’m happily unmarried, Peter,” she explains, lifting herself up upon the desk. He scoots over to give her the space to sit without breaking eye contact.
“But ever since my mother passed, my father is hell bent on finding me a man,” now her guard is lowered, but her fingers are still anxiously tying themselves in knots, Peter notices.
“He wants me to marry a man who can provide for me. He was always against the whole med school thing, but my mother had my back. I graduated some time ago, and my mother passed away not long after,” she bites the inside of her cheek to keep from crying in front of him, afraid of what he might say or think of her.
“He’s old school. He believes women belong in the kitchen and going to university and having a job is just my rebellious phase until I settle down,” she scoffs.
“I would rather die, Peter,” the tone of her voice is so genuine that something deep inside his chest reacts to her words. His lungs seem to expand further against his ribcage and something warm and unfamiliar slashes aggressively, needy, at the base of his belly.
“I would rather die,” she repeats, “than live the life my mother lived. I’d prefer death over having my academic aspirations squashed because I’m busy cooking dinner for a husband who doesn’t see me as a person, raising kids I never wanted and cleaning up after them every single day. Even the idea makes me nauseous.”
“When I told him I wanted to specify in pediatrics, he laughed at me. He said my maternal instinct won after all. God, I was so angry I considered changing my mind.” the memory of it boils her blood all over again until Peter squeezes her clenched fist with his cool hand. He weaves his fingers through hers until her hand relaxes in his. Only then, he lets go.
“What happened today?” He asks.
“He arranged a date for me, tonight. Some desperate old fool who gets off on the thought of having a younger wife,” the tone of her voice is bitter, but he can detect something else in there.
Fear.
“I couldn’t go, Peter,” she says. He understands.
“My dad and I had a fight this morning, right before I left. He told me if I didn’t show up tonight, I shouldn’t bother coming home at all. Ever again,” a shakey sigh leaves her lips. “Dr. Brenner said it was okay for me to use the office, at least for tonight. Tomorrow, I’ll face my dad again. But right now, I just need some time to recharge.”
Eat. Sleep. Work. Reproduce? Live.
She softly bumps his shoulder with her own when he stays silent like he has for most of her rant. Worry settles in her bones.
“I’m sorry. I hope you don’t think badly of me, now. I don’t even think… I mean, I don’t know what I was thinking, really,” she carefully slides off the desk to create some space between herself and the orderly. “I shouldn’t have said anything. Forget I said… anything.”
“You shouldn’t worry about what I think,” her shoulders loosen a bit when the words leave his mouth.
“Or what anyone else thinks. But for what it’s worth, I think you’re a magnificent young woman,” he, too, takes a step away from the desk and towards her, overcome with the sudden urge to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Instead, he digs the heels of his shoes in the solid tiles of her office floor in an attempt to ground himself.
“You shouldn’t have to conform to anyone else’s idea of who you are,” his voice is so soft and his words nearly addictive. She could hear him speak for hours upon hours.
“You don’t think it’s selfish?” she asks, frowning in disbelief at his opinion on the matter.
“It is never selfish to choose yourself, doctor,” he cocks his head to the side and sends her the same comforting smile he gave her earlier, and this time, she smiles back.
“Thank you,” she says, while taking a step closer to him. The cardigan she had put on earlier is starting to slip off her shoulder, and she’s so close now that he can feel her breathing on his face. She smells like pomegranate and lemongrass and he wants to touch her now, find out if her skin is really as soft as it looks, if every part of her is as pretty as he imagines it to be.
“No need to thank me,” he says instead. The fabric of her cardigan is soft against his touch when he slips it back up her shoulder, covering her from his wandering gaze.
“My point still stands,” she then says.
“And what point is that?” he asks.
“You are a good guy, Peter.”
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Taglist: @sunweee @ancientbeing10 @njutul
Lmk if you want to be added/removed to the tag list!
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ai-luni · 2 years
Text
You are everything good in this world
Peter Ballard/Henry Creel/001 x fem!reader 
Series Masterlist, Part 2.1
Word count: 8.2k
Summary: You are an innocent, naive nurse fresh out of school when you receive a job offer in which you think you’ll get to help young orphaned children. Instead you dig a little too deep and find the horrid truths of your work with the help of an orderly who calls you everything good in this world. 
Warnings: Literally everything... Peter himself, Dr Brenner himself, Violence, torture, a spider, swearing, slut shaming, smut 18+, overstimulation, toxic traits, gaslighting, ANGSTY TRAGIC ENDING, bad writing 
A/N: I’m not a writer and I know most of these tropes have already been written about but I started this when I finished vol 1 and needed to finish for myself. My writing is purely self indulgent so it’s a little bit of a self insert, i hope someone can enjoy it anyway. I’m gonna dip now :)
1978
You were young, keen and fresh out of nursing school when you received an offer from a job in a little town called Hawkins, Indiana. It was a good offer - too good to be true - with in house accommodation and the chance to aid young orphaned children. Or so you were told. You found it ironic how your big adventure and journey of self discovery led you to a small town instead of a big city. You weren’t any less excited about it however.
Arriving at the lab, you were taken aback. You weren’t sure what you were expecting but it really wasn’t this. Everything was so sterile and closed off. Many floors were strictly off limits, every door beyond the reception desk needed an ID pass and you greatly struggled to picture how this was a place to help children.
You were on a 6 week work trial before you could move in to be the inhouse nurse. You were staying at the motel in Hawkins for the time being. The thought of moving into that building gave you chills at night but you were excited for these new experiences (and on your first night, very excited to meet the children), however something about that place felt off.
You were given a tour of the building on your first day, meeting the medical wing staff and Dr Brenner himself. He explained to you that this lab was not a usual institution for children or just any children for that matter. But special children, the most special he has ever seen for that matter. He went on to apologise for the trial period, they need to ensure you are in fact the kind of person they are looking for and that they can ensure your trust and confidentiality. 
You asked when you’d get to meet the children and all you were given in response was “In due time.” From then on your tour continued, showing you the living quarters and work space you’d be granted access to as well your uniform of a white blouse, white pencil skirt and nurse’s cap - clean black heeled shoes were advised for appearances although not mandatory, however you learnt quickly with a guy like Dr Brenner, it was never wise to never go against his wishes.
It was the end of your first week when you finally met the orderly staff that supervise the children. They all held pleasantries very well and were lovely company. You were invited to join a few to the cafeteria for their lunch time break, to which you graciously accepted. Though they laughed at your jokes, you found many took themselves too seriously.
There was one however that piqued your curiosity. He did not speak to you that day, nor for any of the weeks during your trial period, but you saw him often. Like you were being shown a sign - he was always leaving the cafeteria when you were entering and passing you in the hallways in the mornings by your office door. He was tall, bright, blond and sympathetic looking. You wanted to hear his voice. You often wondered after seeing him if his voice was in fact as gentle and kind as he looked or boyish and playful or maybe even the complete opposite of how he looked: dark and cold.
It wasn’t until your final week during your trial did you meet one of the children. You were sitting in your little office bay as usual when you heard a knock on the door. Looking up, you saw the tall, blond boy dressed all in white walk in with a little girl holding his hand.
“Good morning Miss L/N. I understand you’re still on your trial period but thirteen here has hurt her hand and would like a bandage.” You nodded trying to conceal the fact that your thoughts were racing for the sake of professionalism. It was gentle and kind, his voice was gentle and kind.
Patting the bed next to you for the little child to sit, you retrieved the little stash of band aids from under your desk. Now ducking down to be eye level with the little girl whose legs dangled off the bed, you decided - as your actual first encounter with a child - you’d try your best to make her like you.
“I'm a nurse Y/N, what’s your name?” you said in a soft tone, perhaps coming off like you were talking to a baby.
“Thirteen.” She replied in a weak tone, to which you thought she was joking. After a silent moment of no follow up you turned to the orderly who stood next to the door, legs apart, arms behind his back and nodding at you with a smile. You hear him hiding a small chuckle and return your attention to the child in front of you trying to seem unfazed at the possibility that this child’s name is thirteen. Thirteen lifts her palm to show you a small cut.
“Oh dear, how did this happen?” You say softly, focusing more on gently applying the band aid to the little girl’s hand.
“Papa says I’m not allowed to say.” You looked at the child’s face again, clearly failing to hide how foreign this moment felt. ‘Papa?’ barely left your lips in a sigh before realising perhaps she meant Dr Brenner. Smiling again you set her free to go, to which she jumped off the bed and back to grab the boy’s hand. You completely forgot he was standing there but the intensity of his stare towards you accompanied by the smile on his face made your ears feel red hot.
“Thank you Nurse Y/N” the boy says, a smile growing wider than leading the child out of the room.
“Congratulations on passing your trial period Y/n. We’ve decided you are exactly the kind of person we are looking for and I’ll be sure to send someone to help you with your things, you need not worry.” Dr Brenner greeted you in the reception doors with these words as you entered with your things in multiple bags and cases, “It is time you finally meet the children.
He led you to ‘The Rainbow Room’ whoch you have heard of quite a bit but never got to see inside. When you entered, Dr Brenner called attention to all of the children and lined them up in front of you. The room was exactly like the rest of the building, sterile white tiles, fluorescent lights and no windows. It wasn’t exactly the place you’d want to let a child grow up in but the decorations and the toys scattered around made it a little more bearable and warm.
One by one Dr Brenner told you the numbers of each child, desperately trying to hide your astonishment at the fact all of the children were named after numbers. And there were so few children there too. It was then that Dr Brenner’s words of “not just any child” really started to sink in. What was so special about these children that they had to have their names taken away?
“Children, say hello to our new Nurse, Nurse Y/N.” Dr Brenner announces to the children.
“Hello Nurse Y/N.” The children responded in a collective bored and wavering tone. You examined the children from across the room, looking at their young eyes, some mischievous, some bright and others plain scary. You saw little thirteen that you treated yesterday, she smiled brightly while showing you the band aid still on her palm. You gave a small wave back. This adorable interaction completely making your day.
In the early weeks of moving in, you rarely interacted with people throughout the day. You found friends with some of the orderlies and reception staff however conversations with them are quick and only pleasant at best. Most days Dr Brenner would come by once to check on how you are fairing; once a week you may have someone actually come into the sick bay for treatment.
It was a Tuesday morning when you entered your office to find the tall, blond orderly sitting on the side of the bed, back slumped over and his head resting in his hands. He hadn’t heard you come in and for the brief moment when you caught him off guard, you noticed how intimidating his stare was. Usually when you saw him, he held the sweetest puppy dog eyes but this morning he looked troubled and almost angry.
“Is there anything I can help you with?” You questioned quietly, not to startle him too much. You startled him very much which startled you and brought your hand to your chest trying to laugh it off.
“Good morning.” he gave you a sheepish little smile as an apology. You returned it with an understanding one. Getting your gear ready for the day around the desk, you started to question him.
“Is there anything I can help you with this morning, mr?”
“Ballard, Peter Ballard.” He replied in his boyish way.
“You’ve called me by my name for months now and I didn’t even know yours,” you joked before returning to the task at hand, “Now what seems to be the problem?”
You treated Peter of a suspicious burn on his wrist that morning, reinforcing the common phrase that circulates this building of ‘Papa says I’m not allowed to say.’ The word ‘papa’ coming from Peter’s lips however sounds more ironic and bitter than from the children. You were told not to question ‘Papa’.
That morning - though awkward - opened a gateway to a new friendship and perhaps even a little crush on your behalf. One of which you tried to tuck away as Dr Brenner would not be too pleased about workplace relationships. You learnt many things about the boy, his favourite things - colours, foods, hobbies, etc. You connected with him about certain things like the children and complained about Dr Brenner. He’d confide in you about how this building was starting to feel like a prison and you somehow managed to get Peter to tell you about his nightmares and help him understand those nights.
You’d often catch and talk to Peter at meal times or if he brings a child into or is just passing your office. He started to take the longer route to certain rooms just to stop by your office and ask if you needed anything which then turned into any free time he had being spent in your office if there were no other children or staff in there.
He sat on the bed in your office waiting for you to finish some paperwork before engaging in conversation. More often than not, he’d prefer to wait and work alongside you rather than awkwardly waiting in any other public space on this floor. His eyes wandering around the room, he spots the remnants of a web in the cover of the room, finally catching your attention when he ventures over to investigate.
“What’s wrong Peter?” You speak, looking up once you finish the sentence you were writing. He didn’t respond, walking further to the corner of the room. Naturally you got up to see what he was doing, this was odd behaviour for him and you weren’t sure if you should be concerned or flattered that he may just feel more comfortable with you to treat your office like a home.
“Look.” He says quietly, eyes intensely focused on his hand, reaching to the floor and rising back to his face. He shifts on his toes, crouched and raises his eyes to look at you with awe in his eyes. You yelped when you saw the black spider crawling on his hand - or at least you thought you yelped but no sound left your mouth, instead your hands came to cover your open mouth.
“It’s okay.” He says softly with a genuine smile, he looked so relaxed with the spider.
“Peter?! Why would you-?! Isn't it dangerous?!” You stuttered, Peter’s calmness being the only thing keeping you from freaking out. But it didn’t stop you from almost whisper-yelling at him as if raising your voice will make the spider angry.
“Only if provoked. Here,” He reached his hand out to you, moving slowly so as to not disturb the creature. You stood there like a deer in the headlights, so frightened by the ugly thing, you couldn’t seem to find the courage. You looked back to Peter, his eyes intense - almost cold - until he noticed your nervous gaze and he softened. Shaking his head with a soft smile at your cowardice, “It’s not going to hurt you, not while I’m here with you.”
You couldn’t believe you were reaching for the thing, but your hand met with Peter’s and the spider crawled onto your soft skin. You kept you other hand close to your chest, looking back up to Peter when you felt your nerves pick up. He was intensely staring at your hand, the spider so comfortable, crawling on your delicate smooth, skin.
“It’s beautiful.” Fell off his lips almost unintentionally, his chest rising and falling deeper and deeper. There was something that hit him so differently seeing this contrast of something regarded as so ill and dangerous melding like water with the most graceful and peaceful specimen he has ever seen. As every life he’s lived, he’d yet found something different to make it all feel worth it, until now. Until he found the anomaly of the human race that would be worth respecting, worth playing with, worth his time.
“I suppose so.” You respond - assuming he was talking about the spider - still not understanding the whole thrill of this. You grew lot more comfortable looking at the spider now. Even gently guiding it back to the shelf next to you to for it to waddle back to its web.
Once seeing the spider reached it’s web again, you looked back to Peter who was now only inches from you, leaning down to face you. Your breath hitched, you didn’t even see him step closer but you could now feel the heat from him and hear his breathing. It made your heart race. He reached to push some of your hair behind your ear, gently and slowly, as though you were the most precious item he’d ever seen. However halting mid movement once he saw your neck, his thumb gracing down to outline a small dull red scar. His fingers cold to the touch, sending shivers down your spine.
“When did you get this?” He said in a serious tone that caught you off guard, now moving to your side to further examine the scar.
“I’m the nurse here! You don’t have the worry about me.” You pulled away playfully however still very taken back by the sudden change in mood.
“Y/N,” His stare unfaltering, “I need to know. When did this happen.”
“I- I don’t remember,” you were suddenly nervous, like you were in trouble, “I- well- I know it appeared after I got here, I just don’t remember how I got it. It’s just a scar, I’m not dying.”
Peter’s face boiled in an emotion that you hadn’t seen from him before. Anger. With a hint of nothing else in his face but pure anger. ‘Brenner’ He breathed out and looked up to the security camera in the corner of the room - that to be honest, you forgot was there most of the time.
From that interaction, you were hyper aware of that scar on your neck - usually just trying to cover it with your hair if you didn’t have to put it up. As well you started to grow even more suspicious of Dr Brenner. You were already a little too curious of his treatment of the children for his liking but now you were more aware of his treatment of you and his staff. Peter felt almost proud of you when he saw you put your guard up around the man whether in the hallway, the rainbow room or cafeteria. 
It was one afternoon, however, when one of the younger children came into your office with a bruised spine, burns across his scalp and a severe concussion that you were finally starting to lose your patience. You examined the child, tucked them into your sick bay bed with a support teddy (which was provided by you when you came to work here) and left for a moment to find Peter.
You were fuming though you tried to stay calm in the public eye - not that it made any difference, your stomps echoed through the tiled hallways. You made your way to the rainbow room, taking a deep breath before entering and scanning the room with your eyes for Peter. He was crouched next to the child guiding a marble with his eyes closed. The children watched you walk straight to him however pay you little mind. Peter however stood up immediately, noticing you were upset.
“Good evening Peter. I need your assistance if you have a moment to spare.” Keeping up appearances. It worked. He departed with the child and walked beside you out of the rainbow room. When you felt you were deep enough into the hallways, you stopped him and your fake persona melted in front of him.
“WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE?! WHAT IS HAPPENING TO THESE CHILDREN?! THIS ISN’T NORMAL! THIS IS LEGAL! PETER DID YOU KNOW?!” You were whisper yelling, aware that other people may hear you. You were panicking in front of him to the point he grabbed your upper arms to steady you and telling you to breathe. He took a deep breath himself.
“The truth is…” he contemplated for a moment whether to tell you, “Not everything here is what they seem.”
You looked at him absolutely dumbfounded as he told you of the children's special abilities and Dr Brenner’s plan to build weapons out of them. The sort of training these kids are put through and so on. You almost thought it was a joke, all of this going on under your nose, all of this that sounds completely impossible. He told you about the chip in your neck and explained that’s why he got so concerned when he first saw it.
“I have never lied to you before Y/N, especially not about the likelihood of this. I’ve tried to keep you in the dark for your own sake and protection because I fear what Dr Brenner may do if you knew the true nature of this project, what it may do to you if you knew the true nature of this project. But it seems not telling you has ended up worse and I apologise so deeply Y/N. It was never my intention to hurt y-”
“Peter, you have done nothing wrong. Thank you for always telling me the truth.” You stood in complete disbelief but you trusted Peter with your whole heart and in that moment you swore to help these children, but now you know really from what. You felt Peters hand on your shoulder taking you out of your thoughts. He guided you into his arms and you hugged him in the middle of the hallway.
“Peter, Y/N.” Dr Brenner’s voice revealed itself from behind Peter. You stole another moment in the privacy of Peter’s arms to build up the courage to face the doctor after what you just learnt.
“Good evening Dr Brenner.” You said with a smile, pretending to wipe a tear out of your eyes.
“Is everything okay?” He asked, brows furrowed in his usual calm, intimidating tone.
“Yes, yes,” You pretended to compose yourself, painting on a sheepish look. Also very aware of the child holding his hand beside him. “I’ve just been a little… well homesick is all. Peters just been a dear consolidating friend in reminding me of my family and friends here.”
Your nervousness was showing through your fiddling fingers, keeping your gaze on the child next to Brenner as you shared a gentle smile at the word ‘friends’. It was in this moment as well that Peter saw you pick his side and cover for him, he felt proud of himself that he could warn you of danger and that you actually listened. He felt proud of himself that he could suede the purest person he’d ever met to stick by his side.
Peter would think of that moment, at night, in bed alone most often. The way you lied for him, the way only he could make you steer away from your ‘righteous’ nature and lie for him. The way you listened to him and believed his every word. The way you sought him out first for help, for the truth and depended on him for comfort. The way you held him in your arms and rested your head on his chest. The way his arms wrapped around your smaller frame and could feel your back through your linen shirt. He was utterly enamoured by you.
Over the course of the year, he slowly slowly started to open up to you and he knew you were just as enamoured by him as he was of you. He protected you in this building, telling you every secret he knew, who of the orderlies and staff he thought you should stay clear of and bringing you things you needed throughout the day like an assistant. On some days even, Peter became the only person you would see for the entire day. His puppy dog eyes and sweet smile was enough to keep you going in his building. Most nights the thought of his touch was all you needed.
It was only recently that Peter started talking more and more about little number 11. He held a real fondness of her, often telling you she was the strongest of all the children. The first time you heard this, it took you greatly by surprise as she was a sweet girl but incredibly fragile from the times you’ve treated her. He looked at you with the intense stare you rarely saw - the stare that raises your heartbeat and frightens you, needing to remind yourself that it’s only Peter and there was no need to be intimidated - when telling you not to pity that girl.
It was because of Peter that yourself and 11 became closer friends. Often you’d try to learn more about the girl when she came into your office and you always greeted her, especially when you entered the rainbow room to call on a child for a check up. Peter thought it very sweet however the other children started to notice as well.
A lot of the older children became more hostile to 11 as a result of getting more attention but became hostile to you as well. 11 begun spend more and more afternoons in your office after being picked on by those kids and you welcomed her every time. She’ll tell you in very limited words that the children would tell her 'you have to be put in your place’ or that ‘they do it for her own good.’ and that she just wanted to be their friend.
You told her often “Friends don’t lie.” You tried your best to make it crystal clear that they were only bullies and that she was worth so much more than to be tossed around like that. You’d remind her how powerful she was to be here. As well that she had a brave and strong heart and you really admire that about her.
One afternoon you hadn’t seen Peter all day and you were getting very distressed and restless. He wasn’t at the dinner meal time either which only made you feel worse, cleaning your office to distract yourself all night. By 7 o’clock there was a knock on your door which you ran too thinking it was Peter however instead you found little 11 standing there alone.
You welcomed her in of course and she tried to explain to you what she saw today. Of Peter being punished for helping her. You thanked her so deeply for telling you to which she replied with “Friends don’t lie.” You gave her a hug as tears started to spill unwillingly out of your eyes from worry and sent her off to her room for the night.
So that night when you were packing up your office, you hid a few supplies and ointments in your undergarments and tried your best to sneak to his room without being spotted. You weren’t sure if he didn’t come see you for treatment because he didn’t want you to see him that way or because Dr Brenner prohibited him but neither was going to stop you for helping him.
You knock on his door and he opens the door harshly thinking you were someone else. However his eyes softened immediately upon seeing you and he drags you in to close the door. He lets you fawn over him, scolding him for not seeing you and what not when all he did was groan in pain as he tried to sit on the edge of his bed.
He followed your orders in taking off his shirt so you could see his wounds, pulling out the supplies you brought. Now sitting shirtless with his arms out, he watched you expectedly as you were too focused on examining him to notice the elephant in the room. He enjoyed seeing your flustered look when seeing him shirtless and your pure worry while treating him.
“11 and I are more alike than you think.” He states out of the blue, breaking your focus. That's when you finally noticed the number. 001. He watches your face turn from concern to utter despair.
“No” you look up at him, slowly your hands rise to his head. You softly grab his hair and bring him to your chest. Pure love and sorrow in your embrace that he melts into you.
”Not you, not them.” You whimpered into his hair. Your heart broke at the thought of him going through what you’ve seen these children go through and now more.
You almost healed his inner child in that moment alone. He feels a tear drop on his hair and pulls back to look at you, his hand resting on your waist. Bringing a thumb to your cheek to wipe away your tears. In the complete silence of the little tiled room, you broke loose.
“I’m so scared.” You whimpered, tears slowly continuing to build in your eyes. He quickly retorted with his thumb now grazing over your lips, his gentle eyes comforting you, “You never have to be afraid again. Not with me.”
He pulled you to him, lips resting against his for a moment. You closed your eyes until both of you pulled back. Opening your eyes, you see him watching your lips while licking his own. Your heart was beating so fast.
“Again” he says in a daze. He’d never kissed anyone before but to share this moment with you was almost too much for him. You did as he said and kissed him again. Your lips took over and moved against each other on their own. His grip tighten and you pulled away, a small moanish sigh left your lips from the feeling. You take charge, connecting your lips to his again, tongue to tongue and he’s taken off guard. But he’s a quick learner.
With a gruff grunt, he yanks you onto his lap, your hands resting on his chest. His hand holding your jaw to him and the other pulling up your skirt. This was too good a feeling to be real, this was a feeling he could get used to for sure. A feeling of pure pleasure and love, he wants to hold you and protect you from this hell hole.
“I fear he already knows” You whisper against his lips. You didn’t dare speak the doctor’s name in a moment like this.
“I’m afraid so,” He mumbled back against your lips, “But if he lays a hand on you, I’ll be the end of everything he knows.”
You pulled back, taking out the pins in your hair and letting it fall onto your shoulders. His eyes watching your movements so intensely, his thigh bouncing from a feeling he couldn’t identify, nervousness or excitement maybe.
Your hands held his shoulders to keep you stable on his lap. You looked down to his chest, your mannerisms turning sheepish and he could tell there was something you needed to ask him. He moved a piece of hair out of your face and behind your ear, and following that motion your head turned to him and locked eyes.
“Will you have me?” He was confused by your question. You straightened yourself on his lap, gaining the courage to continue, “I don’t know what will happen beyond this point, tomorrow. I don’t know if I can even help these kids if I tried. But I know I’m here with you right now and that might be all I get.” 
His eyes grew wide and clouded full of love. He was starting to realise what you were referring to.
“I don’t want to regret anything, I don’t want to miss you. I need you.” You continued. He was so mesmerised by you that he brought you in for another kiss, rough and heavy, he wanted to express how he felt about you and this - in his inexperience - was the best way he knew how to.
He watched you lick your lips and lean back in his lap - supporting you with a grip on your hips. He watched your nimble little hands work on the button at your collar, letting it fall open. Then the next button and the next until he stopped you. Holding your delicate hands in his like fine china and bringing them to his lips for a gentle kiss. He guides your hands back to his shoulders and works on the rest of your buttons for you one by one.
Reaching the belt of your skirt, he yanks your tucked in shirt out rougher than intended and you let out a little giggle to which he matches your smile, a genuine, warm smile. All your buttons were undone and you guide his hands into your unbuttoned shirt, leaving his hands on his chest, letting your shirt slip off your shoulders.
With his hands awkwardly placed over your underwear where you placed them, he watched your chest rise and fall, up and down with every deep breath under his warm hands. Your nervous look turned to one of slight smugness, mostly adoration. You reached your arms behind your back to unclasp your bra and with that it fell to the ground. He looked so unsure where to place his hands.
You lifted his chin to look you in the eye and with a gently loving smile, you gave him a nod. With that he cupped your breast and explored the feeling. He observed the way you reacted to his movements, when your breath hitched or fastened. Hitting the jackpot when his thumb met your nipple, like a research project.
He was rubbing circles with his thumb, relishing the sight of you watching his hands as he worked. Your head almost subconsciously following the movement, as you’re lips were parted and almost drooling. He’s never had this effect on anyone before but you didn’t tell him to stop. He never knew his limits, but the effect he had was intoxicating for him in a way he didn’t know was possible.
“Aah!” His fingers were rough and dry. He looked at you jerking back his hands immediately, unsure if he did something wrong to hurt you. You still had this blissed out look on your face as you looked at him but you licked your lips. Slowly, to draw his attention and your eyes flicked down. He gave you a knowing look once it clicked what you wanted. 
He gave you a devilish smile before connecting his lips to your nipple. You gripped his hair and let out a gasp, his lips moving as they did on your lips and soon remembered to let his tongue join the ensemble. His eyes continued to watch the look on your face when he got the chance. Every time you made a noise, it only egged him on more. Soon he was onto the other nipple and your fingers were busy twisting and pulling his hair.
He committed every little movement and noise you made to memory and was absolutely addicted. He couldn’t seem to stop, he couldn’t seem to pull himself off you when you were making noises like that. You were pulling his hair and making noises straight out of a porno. Only finally giving you a break when he pulled off you, leaning back to get a look at you all dishevelled. You were falling forward in his lap, already tired, chest completely red and sore, rising rapidly as you tried to catch your breath.
“Peter” you let out a moanish-sigh and his head fell back at the sound. He let out groans in pain, you weren’t sure whether the source was from the burns or his tight white pants. Once you regain your composure, you let your hand slide along the inside of his left thigh in front of you. He returned his look to you, somehow more dishevelled than you were and you’ve barely touched him.
“Please.” he said, almost submissively and your hand fell over where he needed you most. You were only palming him gently through his white chinos but truly it was enough for him to snap. His head had fallen back entirely, hands off your waist and leaning on the bed behind him to keep him steady and upright.
His neck was on full display to you and taking the opportunity, you manoeuvred your way to lean your knees against the bed and rest your chest against his with your hand still between your bodies. Lips connecting to his neck and feeling the vibrations of every noise he made. You kissed around his neck, trying not to leave marks that might be spotted until you reached the chip behind his ear.
“I hate him.” You muttered against his skin absentmindedly, catching his attention and bringing him out of the moment. He pulled you up in front of him pulling down your skirt, slipping off your shoes and groaning once more as you stood in front of him in nothing but your panties.
“Sit.” he orders, you do as he says. With a grunt he stands in front of you like you did him moments before. He desperately fiddled with his belt, his hands were shaking but he was too focused on taking off his trousers to notice. Once finally free he lets out a sigh of relief as the cold air hits his skin.
“Peter.” you did it again and it drove him crazy, the sight of you sitting there almost naked staring at his dick was an effect he didn’t know he could have on a person.
“Lay down Peter, please.” you almost begged. 
He laid down beside you and you straddled him, pulling off your panties one leg after the other. He watched you as your cold fingers traced down his torso then gently grazed over his cock. He completely stopped breathing but couldn’t look away. 
He was in so much pain, desperate for release but he didn’t want this moment to end. Everything you did made it worse but he couldn’t bring himself to quicken the pace. You were dripping down your thigh, he watched you scrape some of your wetness off your thigh and drag it down his shaft. You wrapped your hand around him, thumb rubbing at the slit spreading the pre-cum it let out, him letting out a groan from deep in his chest along with it
“Are you ready Peter?” You said weakly, mostly the nerves were finally showing through. Positioning yourself above him with his eyes intensely trained on the sight.
“Now.”
You rode him. Slowly at first. He’d never felt this kind of pleasure before and he certainly wasn’t going to interfere with what you were doing. The room was silent beside the echoing noises of the friction of your skin, the repetitive squelching from inside you, every hum that you made involuntarily at every little movement. Everything added up into pure over stimulation on his senses. He could hear his own noises, groans and hums and moans and sighs echo back at him and he almost gave you submission. His hands rested on your hips as you rolled back and forth on him, yours hands resting on his shoulders for stability and moaning in his ear.
You grabbed his hand off your hips and guided him to your clit, helping him move in the way you like and once he got the hang of it, your body completely fell over onto him. He saw you break down in front of his eyes at this simple movement and something within him snapped in a need for dominance.
His grip on your hip tightens, bruises forming as he begins thrusting up into you. You’re yelping almost in pain but that only pushes him longer as he shows no signs of slowing down. He flips you over, delicately placing you below him, it was the only moment for you to breathe before he continued.
He begins to pound into you again, thumb still working on your clit. You’re gripping his hair and the nape of his neck for dear life as you're on the verge of screaming and crying from love and fear and pain and he’s got his arm out beside you, steadying himself, chin resting on your collarbone as he watches you scream and squirm. The sudden change in his demeanour and the pace and everything is sending you so overboard that you’re orgasming before you can even put a coherent thought together. It was only Peter.
“Pete-aA, a- AH - AgaIN PETER.”
At the point you begin to calm down only slightly, he started rutting into you with a grunt with every thrust. “You’re free now. With me you’re free Y/N. You won’t leave me, you won’t ever leave me. Y/n hmm Y/n” and it continued like that with each thrust. He’d grunt and call out for you and grunt and call out for you. Relishing the feeling of your squirming and jerking your hips, like you were a bunny he was setting free from it’s misery. He had to have you.
For a while you were way past your orgasm but he was still rutting into you. So strained you could feel the veins on his neck and see the veins on his forehead pop out. You’d scream for him and only him, not any jerk, not Brenner. You’d scream his name, and feel for him. You were gasping for air, nails frantically scratching at his back, hair, shoulders, arms, anywhere you could grip.
With what little might you could muster, you lifted your head to look at him, face red and completely tear stained, mascara pooling under your eyes. “I am free, with you Peter! You set me free!” you cried, out of breath and completely dick crazed. He was a goner. Completely inside of you he stayed and rutted as he released. Your name falling off his lips, only yours.
He fell onto you, releasing all the tension in his muscle as he gently held you. You laid there under him gasping for air and grabbing his hair and shoulder.
He looked at you with complete awe and amazement, that was the best he’d ever felt, the most free he’s ever felt yet the most powerful he’d ever felt. He loved you, he would kill for you, but watching you stay there under him, crying and screaming and taking it because you loved him. It was a love he’s never felt before. He did nothing but stare at you and breathe as he thought and you stared at him back, in love.
Something in him clicked like it sometimes did, his eyes reverted back to their Peter puppy dog eyes, he chucked and giggled and sighed resting his head next to yours in a playful ‘wow’ sort of fashion. You only giggled in return and held him closer. He jolted up on his elbow to look at you, jump scaring you in the moment and looked at him expectedly.
“Stay with me, just tonight y/n.” Your eyes lit up as he did to match until the hope drained out of you.
“You know I can’t Peter.” You looked into his eyes, deep into his wide black hole of eyes, there was a void space in his eyes that drew you into a trance. He knew how to use this power on you.
“Like you said, we don’t know what's going to happen tomorrow but you have me now.” He could see he was persuading you easily. You bit your lip and let out a loud breath when lying back down in his arms. He grabbed your chin, roughly, pulling you to look at him. 
“You’ll be with me forever, you’ll never have to feel fear again with me, especially not from the likes of those men out there.” With that the two of you spent the night, you in his arms, him in your arms. He could feel your heart racing and the fear behind it as tomorrow morning came closer and closer. You both knew tomorrow was going to be a living hell and you weren’t sure if you were ready for it but you had no regret being with Peter.
Neither of you slept properly, the night was full of deep late night conversations, giggles, you spoke of your families, he told you of his childhood and wanted to take you again when instead of rejecting him, you embraced him and were interested in the stuff he likes to talk about, spiders, power, dominance. It was the longest and shortest night of his life and he didn’t even leave the bed once.
He mentioned his plan to free 11. You saw it as a mission to heal his inner child and thought him incredibly selfless to sacrifice himself for the sweetest little girl you’d ever met. Of course you’d offer to help, you’d do anything for Peter and if he was going to sacrifice himself, you’d have nothing else left to live for either. 
You told Peter to give her your ID card, so he can meet her in the basement and in the early morning, he took you again because he couldn’t keep his hands off you and how pure of a soul you were.
“You are everything good in this world, I will protect you.” He’d repeat all night.
Now the next morning, you watched Peter prepares himself for the day then walk you to your room, trying his best to avoid cameras and keep you out of sight. And thus the most dreaded day of your life begins.
It was cold, the only warmth you felt was the redness of your cheeks and ears when you thought back to last night. Your morning went as usual except the way Peter looked at you when passing in the hall was different and made you wet in your pants.
Dr Brenner visited your medical office, notifying you that you and the other nurse will be needed in the lab room in an hour as the children are playing another game. You tried to play off your complete nervousness - of just being in the same room as him as if he already knew what happened last night - by giving a kind and understanding smile you usually try to wear. He leaves with no inhibitions but you just know deep down, he knows.
You do as you're told. In the next hour, walk to the lab room he called you too and watch the children leave. You enter to find 2 on the ground, a collar around his neck you’d seen before leaving burns on the children. Terror is evident in your eyes and Peter can see that from where he stands in the corner of the room. You walk in, trying to stay calm, everyone is watching you and the other nurse that came with you to escort the child.
Dr Brenner welcomes you and thanks you for coming on time. He takes the collar off 2 and steps aside for you to help up to your office.
“Of course. It’s only our job to help these children sir.” you gave a reassuring smile. Usually Brenner liked to hear these sort of things from his staff but today he stops you, telling the other nurse to take the child and leave you. Confused, you look to Peter, he looked seemingly more concerned than confused.
“Y/N stay with us.” Brenner says calmly. You spin to face him and his orderlies. Your heart is racing and your breathing so heavy that you could hear your heart beat in your ears. Dr Brenner motions for you to stand where you found 2.
Not daring to go against his orders, you walked to the spot in front of the Doctor. Peter was starting to catch on to what was about to happen and he was getting angry, visibly angry. His anger only made you more nervous. The other orderlies even started to look nervous and confused. Dr Brenner touches your arm and you tense up completely.
“Please, Y/N there’s no need to get nervous now.” He walks behind you, hand on your waist, collar in his hand, “No, you haven’t done anything wrong to be this nervous, have you?”
He never once falters from his scolding fatherly tone, no matter how ridiculous the situation. You’re shaking and whimpering and trembling under his touch. Peter observes the complete weakness in you, not the way you were with him. His fist was clenched, he was going to snap. He cleared his throat, trying to diffuse this situation but it only made it worse. Dr Brenner’s eyes snap to the boy, so do yours. Your eyes pleading for help and Dr Brenner notices.
“I’m afraid my suspicions were correct.” He scoffs under his breath and starts putting the collar on you.
“You say you do this for the children, correct? You want to help my children?” He says, walking back in front of you now that the collar was around your neck. You were shaking so violently that you could barely stand, tears were falling from your eyes wildly without any prior permission. Brenner looked to the man on his side, instantly getting the cue and walking over to hold Peter back. And as though in slow motion, he reached for the dial in his hand and turned it on. 
Before you could properly comprehend what was happening and that you were in pain, you found yourself on the floor.
“I didn’t want to have to do this Y/n but it’s necessary to remind you of the rules and that of basic respect and manners. This is no place for a whore.”
You were on the floor screaming in pain. Peter was screaming at Brenner from where he was being held back to watch.
After a couple long minutes, a few of which you’d blacked out through, Brenner finally turned the collar off. He crouched in front of you, lifting your chin to look at him, gazing directly into your eyes as he said, “It’s only for your own good, I don’t want to have to let go of you because of this little incident.” 
It was about noon now, after you were left to hobble back to your room alone, that Peter finally visited you. Bringing you food and water. He sat with you in your bed, holding you and apologising for not being able to protect you and saying he will get revenge for you. You went all too sure what he was saying but you were just happy to have him by your side for a little bit.
You gave him your ID card and told him to give it to her, and get her out today. It was time, today was the day. He took it and listened to you. You had to assure him many times that you’d be okay if he left you here before he actually got up to leave. And after a kiss he went to start the plan as you fell asleep.
You woke up to someone entering your room, you could sense it had only been a few hours later but Peter was already back in your room. He ran straight to you, yanking you to his chest before you were fully awake to comprehend what was going on.
“Ow” you let out and he apologised vowing to be gentler next time, “Peter? What's going on? Did you give her the ID? What's go- Peter you’re bleeding!”
You sat up now, completely sobered and concerned. You observed his neck where the chip used to be now dripping with blood. He looked at you with determined eyes, the intense stare that used to scare you.
“I’m free now Y/N. I can protect you now. I love you Y/N.” he took a rough, hard kiss from you once again and laid you back down, “I can protect you now.”
“No Peter! Wait, what’s going on?!” You were getting up to stop him leaving without telling you but he just pulled you to his chest and kissed your hair.
“You have to stay here, I’m going to protect you. You trust me.” He repeated once more before picking you up and putting you back into your bed. You watched him leave bewildered and the door shut behind him. You didn’t have your ID card or a key of any kind and now Peter’s left you confused and worried he was hurt.
You ran to the door after him, trying desperately to find a way to get it open to no avail. In despair, you slid to the floor, sitting with your back to the door and waited. The only thing you could do.
There was a scream.
And another.
The alarm started going off.
You tried once again at the door but it wouldn’t open, you were getting frantic again. You started to hit the door but no one was left around to hear.
“PETER!” You were screaming, banging at the door with your fist, desperate for someone, anyone to hear you.
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makethiscanon · 2 years
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Man Of Your Dreams
Words: 350 || Adventure/Mystery || Mild Threat
Might be a standalone. Might be a prologue.
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Your dreams stopped making sense after you moved to Hawkins. Every night you went to bed, saw nothing but darkness, then woke in a cold sweat.
It stayed like that for two months. You sought out sleep specialists, took melatonin tablets, and even hung a dreamcatcher in your room, but nothing eased the uncomfortable emptiness of your dreams.
Then, exactly two months after you moved to Hawkins, he appeared: a lone figure amongst the darkness, dressed all in white. He kept his back to you. He didn’t speak. But he was there; a tangible presence in the void.
That morning you finally woke peacefully.
The next night you worried he would not return. That perhaps it had been a fluke. But he was there. Still facing away from you. Still silent. His hands clasped behind his back, his fingers threaded loosely together.
Wondering who he was, or where your mind had conjured him from, you called to him. You wanted to see his face. But your words did not reach. You didn’t make a sound.
You tried to walk instead but your legs would not move, and your arms stayed rigid at your sides when you willed them to wave in a bid to grab his attention. Nothing. You were powerless in your own dream. You shouted again, drawing breath from every inch of your lungs. The sound formed but nothing sprang from your mouth.
And yet, he turned. Slowly. Unclasping his hands so he could raise a finger to his lips. Electric blue eyes meeting yours across the void. An angelic face. An unsurprised expression. And his smile. His quiet, all-knowing smile as he pressed his finger to his lips.
Sshhh.
Suddenly, you became aware of a noise. Somewhere behind you there was a clicking sound. It was like a clock at first, tick-tick-tick. Faint but growing louder. Then a deep growl turned your blood cold.
You registered the man’s warm expression slipping before he snapped his chin up, and then you were awake in your bed, drenched in cold sweat with your alarm going off.
That was it. 
You were never sleeping again.
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why-what-no · 2 years
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Can You Trust Me?
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Pairing: Peter Ballard x Reader
Notes: There’s not enough Peter Ballard stuff yet, and I… kinda love him. Requests Open.
Part 2
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"We shouldn't do this anymore." (Y/N) sighed, running her hand through her hair. Peter Ballard's hands were on her waist, his lips so close that she could feel the warmth of his breath against her neck. "What if Dr. Brenner finds us?"
"He won't." He pressed kisses against her jaw, moving up to her lips. She gripped the front of his shirt, finding it near impossible to form thoughts when this stunning man was pressed so close to her. "And even if he did," He moved away so that his bright blue eyes were gazing into hers. "I would protect you."
One of his hands moved to her cheek, and she leaned into the warmth. He opened his month to say something but was interrupted by a voice over the intercom.
"Peter, Doctor Brenner wants you in the rainbow room.* The tinny voice said, between the cracking audio of the machine. Peter sighed, leaning towards (Y/N) and pressing his forehead against hers.
"I will see you later." He promised her, stepping away from her and walking away, in the graceful, almost mechanical way that he did. (Y/N) let out a breath, leaning back against the white wall. Peter made her feel ways that no man had ever succeeded in making her feel before.
***
As soon as she got the news, she immediately made her way to Peter's room. (Y/N) was so careful not to run, so careful to seem like she didn't care. But as soon as she closed her door behind her and saw Peter lying on his bed, panting and in pain, she lost all calm. “Jesus, Peter." She rushed to the bed, sitting next to him.
“I am fine.“ He breathed out. "You don't need to worry about me.“
She reached over, running her hands through his silky blond hair. I know, but I'm still going to." He sighed at the feeling of her nails gently running over his scalp, taking her other hand in his and pressing it against his lips.
He sat up. "They will not get away with this. I promise I will make this better." There was a glint in his eye, more annoyance then anger.
“I know."
No, you don't” He shook his head. “But you will.” She wanted to ask what he meant, but he pulled her closer. His lips against hers and his hands buried in her hair. She let him distract her from her thoughts as his hands ran down her body.
She left his room a while later, fixing her hair before reporting back to the doctor.
***
“(Y/N)” Peter strode towards her. She was surprised to see how reckless he was being. They were in an open hall; anyone could walk by them.
"What are you..?"
"I need to speak to you." The glint in his blue eyes was back, as he cupped her face in his hands and leaned down to kiss her. "It's almost time.“
"What do you mean?" She was worried now, worried about him. "Peter, you're scaring me."
“I know, I know, but it's not going to matter much longer." His tone was soothing, his thumb stroking her cheek gently. *You're too powerful to be scared. Of anything."
"What. I don't…. Peter, I'm not powerful, I'm not.”
"You are." He lowered a hand to press against the side of her neck. His finger on the medical device under her skin. “This is what should scare you, not me. Do you know what this is?"
"It's a medical thing. A… a… medical device. Why?"
"It's a power dampener. It's what's holding you back.”
She sucked in a breath, searching his face for any signs of lying. *Power? Like, the children?"
"No, like me. Papa create them from me, but you.. you're different, we're the same. Did you not wonder why we feel so connected?“ He explained, looking over his shoulder to make sure no one could hear. “My power is like your, like theirs. Why do you think he hired you here? Papa put the device in me to control me, like he did to you!”
"What are we going to do?"
He cocked his head, a small smile playing on his lips. He was so beautiful, like that painting of the falling angel. “I said I would protect you, didn't I?* He kissed her forehead. “My plan is working. As soon as it is over, I'll free you too.”
He looked at her, watching the cogs turn in her head as she fit this new information into her vision of the world.
"I'm asking you to trust me. Can you do that?"
She stared at him, slowly nodding her head. Of course she would. But would he?
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