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lovetohate001 · 11 months

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

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

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

Brown. As In Charlie Brown?

Peter Ballard x Gender Neutral! Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, that’s good to-”

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

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

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

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

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

“y/n?” a knock on the door.

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

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

“Are you alright? You seem off today.”

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

“I do care.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Brown?” he was even more perplexed now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Maybe.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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lovetohate001 · 1 year

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I've fully accepted the fact that my Vecna fics here are crack fics. If you can't run from the weirdness, embrace the monster erotica wholeheartedly. Looking back on those fics made me laugh so much. 2022 stranger things era was a wild ride!

#stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #vecna stranger things #stranger things vecna #vecna's curse #stranger things season 4 #stranger things 001 #001 stranger things #peter ballard stranger things #peter ballard

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lovetohate001 · 1 year

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am i back from HIATUS!?

I’ve been gone for SUCH A LONG TIME! BUT I WILL BE BACK. i plan to resurrect this account when the next stranger things season comes out. It will be quite some time from now, but i am endlessly thankful for all the love you have all shown my work <3

#stranger things #stranger things fanfiction

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lovetohate001 · 2 years

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So I for some reason can NEVER take naps. Like ever. Even when I'm dead tired. I thought it'd be an interesting One Shot idea for Peter Ballard to help the reader sleep during the day/take a nap when they just can't and never have. I've never made an request on Tumblr before, I hope this works *nervous laugh* also I love your writing!

Sweet Dreams

Peter Ballard (001) x Orderly! Reader | FLUFF & ANGST

Word count: 1K

SONG MENTIONED

You had been awake for two days straight. Hawkins Lab had always been a place bustling with life. And never in the ways that could help keep your mind at ease. The children overworking themselves, the orderlies breaking down when the pressure became too much, Brenner losing his patience…the list was endless.

And today, you felt like death. Worked to the bone, you sat, a shell of the person you’d been on Monday morning, a small cup of coffee in your cold hands. Autumn was rolling in, and the bite of cold that came with it wasn’t welcome.

“You look awful,” was Peter’s way of greeting you.

You offered a weak smile, “Thanks,” and shifted over so he could sit against the Rainbow Room’s wall with you.

“That’s your fifth cup in the last three hours,” he pointed out. Not exactly upset, or angry.

But worry was etched into the crease of his eyebrows either way, and you hated it when he looked at you like that. As if you needed someone to look after you.

“I’ll be alright.” You shrugged him off and focused back on the children.

003 and 004 were moving little blocks around in the air, passing them to one another. Your heart lightened a bit at the sight. The children seemed happy today at least. You leaned your head against the wall and closed your eyes, allowing the clattering of pucks and blocks to distract you from your thoughts.

Clack, clack, clack.

“Shit!” Your eyes snapped open when you started.

Your pants were wet. Crap. You’d forgotten about the coffee. Your pristine, white unform had been tinged a dark brown.

“I’ll be alright, you said?” Peter chuckled and helped you to your feet. “You fall asleep for two seconds and this is what happens?”

“Sorry, did I get anything on you?” You asked, warmth heating up your cheeks.

The surveillance had definitely caught that. The last thing you needed was Brenner on your heels, nipping away and demanding to know why you were in such a state.

“Not at all. Don’t worry.” With a warm smile and gentle hands, Peter led you down the hall to one of the break rooms.

Many of the nurses here slept over here when a child was critically ill after a class. And thankfully, this happened to be one of the less used rooms, tucked away into a far corner of the Lab. A small bed and a cupboard were all there was in here. Perfect.

“They should have clean uniforms here for you to take for the rest of your shift,” Peter mumbled, his back to you as he rummaged through the cupboards.

“Thank you.” You took the white pants he offered you.

“So…” he closed the door and kept his back turned while you changed. “Why are you so tired? You haven’t been like this in a while.”

“It’s nothing,’ you sighed, sitting back down on the bed. Shoes off and the thin sheet over your shoulders, you lay down. “You can go back now. I’ll be fine here. The kids have to go to lunch soon anyways.”

“Really?” he’d turned back to you now, arms folded. You knew that stance.

“Standing like a teacher isn’t going to make me fess up, you know. That only works for the children,” you grumbled.

You wriggled over to the other side, facing the wall, your back to him.

“You know, when we were younger, I remember how many nightmares you used to have,” he said softly.

You felt the bed dip under his weight as he sat down on the other end of the bed.

“They were pretty bad, weren’t they?” you gave a weak little laugh and closed your eyes.

“I’d love to blame Brenner for it, but it was my fault.”

“Partly,” you tried. “I was the one who decided it would be a wonderful idea to share memories with each other. And I just happened to accidentally fall into one of your bad ones.”

“I’m still sorry for how that worked out, you know…” Peter laid a hand on your head and stroked your hair.

“Can you show me one of your good memories?” you sighed at the feeling of his hands in your hair. “Maybe it’ll help put my mind at ease.”

“Of course.” Both of his gentle hands held your head, smoothing your hair down as he began to hum. It was a song the two of you knew well.

My love must be a kind of blind love,

I can’t see anyone but you,

Are the stars out tonight?

I don’t know if it’s cloudy or bright,

I only have eyes for you, dear

His gentle humming sent you to sleep. You felt your mind slip away into his memory slowly.

It was warm. A summer’s day. Mother and father were in the dining room. Dancing. The record player went on late into the afternoon. Chet Baker and The Flamingos were surprisingly the household favourite. Although Henry never liked music very much, didn’t understand the feelings behind it at that age, he enjoyed seeing his family happy.

“Dance with me!” sister came running over, her smile toothy and young.

“I don’t know how to dance,” Henry replied.

“Silly brother. I’ll show you how!” Sister grabbed his hand and took him into the living room, her small hand clasped around his.

“See! You’re doing it!” Sister’s bright laughter filled the house, even as Henry awkwardly tripped over his own feet in the process.

Father was happy to see them finally getting along again after the move. It was all he could ask for after so many hardships.

Peter couldn’t help but smile when he noticed the ghost of a smile on your face as you slept. After what the two of you had been through under Brenner’s care, the least he could do was give you a sweet dream. Even if it meant lying to you about his past to do so.

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lovetohate001 · 2 years

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Ok ok hear me out. A little fluff fic where the reader is an orderly at the lab and has a lot of time with the children. 001 walks in to the rainbow room and sees the reader dancing and singing with the children.

Dream A Little Dream of Me

Peter Ballard (001) x Orderly! Reader | FLUFF

word count: 760

AN: This fic is inspired by Season 4 Vol. 2, where Vecna plays Dream A Little Dream of Me at the Snowball in Max’s memory! I wanted to write a small fluffy fic with this song. So let’s make happy memories with this one!

SONGS MENTIONED:

You had been working at Hawkin’s Lab for five years now. As a promising physics major at your local university, your father’s occupation at the Lab had been a major opportunity for you to get experience out in the field once your studies had been completed.

Doctor Martin Brenner had welcomed you to the lab with open arms, and you had been equally scared and excited to see the gifted children hiding away in the facility. And so, sworn to confidentiality, you had worked with these beautiful children every day. And you had loved every second of it.

“You did so well today, Eleven,” you praised the little girl in front of you, no more than nine years old, who stared up at you with wide eyes and an even wider smile.

“Thank you,” she replied shyly, looking over to Peter, your co-worker, who looked over at the two of you, just as proud. In a way, the two of you were the closest thing to parents that all these children had.

A small jolt of sadness went through you at the thought. These poor children had no real parents…or families. They’d never have a normal life. And they hadn’t been able to choose this life either.

The Rainbow Room filled with the sound of a puck clattering against metal pins. Eleven was trying to get the puck in lane 8 again. She’d been struggling with that for a while it seemed. The frown on her face said enough.

“You’ve got this,” you encouraged her, a tentative hand on her shoulder.

She’d already beaten 002 in their class today. The last thing you wanted was for her to overexert herself.

“I’ll be right back…” with a small pat to Eleven’s shoulder, you got up and went over to Peter.

“I was wondering,” you started, sitting down next to him.

002 looked at the two of you, eyes sparkling with curiosity. Two little red blocks were floating above his upturned palms.

“Can we play music for the children?” you asked, hopefully.

“Are you willing to risk it, even after what Brenner did to you last time?” Peter reminded you, eyebrows raised pointedly.

“Well…at least we know now that Brenner doesn’t enjoy Soft Cell's Heat at all.” You cringed at the memory, remembering how angry he had been, finding the two of you listening to it on your Walkman in the break room.

A sly grin and blue eyes met yours. “I think the song choice wasn’t the best, considering we are surrounded by children, don’t you think?”

“Shut up.” You waved him off, hiding how flustered you were. “I’m going to get my Walkman and bring it back here. I think these two have worked hard enough for today.”

Minutes later, the two of you had taken 002 and 011 down the hall into one of the empty training rooms. A cleaner had been there earlier, leaving the room bare, the smell of chemicals in the air.

“And now…” you hit play, “we dance!”

You took 002’s hands in yours and moved the two of you around in a kind of waltz to the music.

Stars shining bright above me.

You caught Peter’s gaze over 002’s head. He smiled, radiant and handsome as ever. 011 looked so happy. Colour was back in her cheeks. And you could swear you saw the ghost of a smile on 002 as he allowed you to spin him around.

But in your dreams, wherever they may be

Dream a little dream of me

You were dancing with Peter now. Every small little touch he gave you. His hands squeezing your gently. His thumb brushing over yours…your heart couldn’t help beating a small bit faster when your eyes met his again, that same mischievous glimmer in them from earlier.

Breaking eye contact, you saw 011 and 002 just a few feet from you. Despite the competition between the two of them in their classes, they seemed to have oddly found a truce in these few small minutes.

“I’m glad we decided to do this. Even though we will be in trouble for this later,” Peter whispered in your ear.

And you could do nothing but agree. Sometimes it was worth taking the risk. For all you knew, Brenner may have had a change of heart and been an Ella Fitzgerald fan this whole time.

Leave the worries behind you.

Promise to me

You’ll dream a little dream of me

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lovetohate001 · 2 years

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ST Vol. 2 made me cry much more than I thought it would </3 but it was AMAZING

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lovetohate001 · 2 years

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can minors follow you if they don’t read or interact with anything that’s nsfw?

Yes! All works labelled " 🤍 " can be read and interacted with!

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lovetohate001 · 2 years

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This photo is so wildly hot I'm going fucking feral

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lovetohate001 · 2 years

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ok hear me out reader is with her bf and vecna gets jealous and proves hes better than readers bf 🗿

I Can Do Better

Vecna x Female! Reader | HORROR, R-rated for sexual content

CW: Spoilers for Season 4 Vol. 1, has themes of horror that may be grotesque for some readers

word count: 2k

AN: This was something a LOT of readers requested, and I am happy to say that I have DELIVERED. This scared me a small bit, I wont lie. But I enjoy the horror side to Vecna’s fics. I hope you enjoy this one!

You had been hearing things in your sleep for a while now. Sometimes you heard echoes skitter across your bathroom walls at night. You swore you saw spiders in the corner of your eye. But every time you whirled around, there would be nothing there but the clean white tiles of the walls glaring back at you.

Taking a deep breath, you looked at yourself in the bathroom mirror.

“You are going to go back in there, and you are going to enjoy it.” You told yourself this every time your boyfriend, Jesse, came over.

He just wasn’t…skilled? Was that even how you could describe it? You shook your head. Maybe this time it would be different. You were stressed. Work had left you exhausted at the end of every day. That could be why. It had to be.

“Hey,” Jesse smiled up at you from his place on your couch as you cozied up next to him.

Your heart fluttered in your chest at how adorable he looked. His dusty blond hair was tousled, curls and all falling into his eyes. A sweater essentially swallowed him whole, along with the blanket wrapped around his shoulders. This was a sight you wished you could come home to more often. If the two of you could just not be so busy with work…

“You need to relax,” Jesse huffed, letting you sit cross legged between his own legs so he could massage your shoulders. “You are so tense, angel.”

“That feels good,” you sighed, letting your eyes close.

The drone of voices on the TV blended in with Jesse’s voice as he started to ramble on about his day. His fingers kneaded almost sensually into your sore muscles. You groaned and let your head fall forward. It just felt so fucking good.

“Are you enjoying yourself, baby?” Jesse chuckled, continuing his ministrations.

One of his hands roamed underneath your shirt to knead the soft flesh of your lower back. His hands were freezing.

“Your hands are cold,” you complained, wriggling away from his touch.

“No, they aren’t,” he frowned and pressed a hand to your neck. Sure enough, his hands were warm against your skin. “It must’ve been a draft.”

“Yeah…” you couldn’t help the feeling of unease settling in the pit of your stomach. Had it really just been a breeze?

You shook off the feeling and closed your eyes again, leaning your head forward again as he continued where he’d left off. His hands made they way from your shoulders, down your arms, to your sides, and rested on your hips.

“Lie down for me, will you?” he whispered softly into your ear, a sly grin on his face.

“Anything for you, my love,” you said, a cheeky smile gracing your lips as he gently pushed you down to lie on your stomach.

“It’s the least I can do for you. This week hit pretty hard, huh?” His fingers pressed into the muscles across your shoulder blades, slowly inching down to the small of your back, and around your waist, gently squeezing your sides with enough pressure for you to let out a small moan.

“What was that?” You could practically hear the smug smile on Jesse’s face as he leaned in to give the crook of your neck a soft kiss.

You didn’t bother saying anything back, just shaking your head, allowing him to inch your shirt up and pepper kisses along your back.

“Oh.” You gasped, from what Jesse thought was him, when it was really those cold hands reaching underneath you, fingers like ice digging into your hip bones.

Jesse took this as a green light. Warm arms wrapped around you to turn you over, leaving you caged underneath him. You took a deep breath and met his eyes, allowing the golden brown of his eyes to soothe your anxiety.

Those cold hands ran down the sides of your ribcage, and you made a move to sling your arms around Jesse’s neck. Jesse is real, you told yourself. This is real.

Warm lips met yours and you sighed into the kiss, letting it melt all your worries away. A hand made it way down, fingers trailing and brushing against your clothed centre. You gasped into the kiss and allowed him to take your bottom lip between his teeth, revelling at the gentle sting.

The rustle of fabric, a bra clasp undone, and the tips of calloused fingers softly grazing over the peak of your breasts. Another pair of hands, cold, cold, cold, squeezed your hips at the same time Jesse squeezed your breasts. You keened at the different touches, not being able to stop the breathless whimper that escaped your lips.

See? I can do so much better…

Something was very wrong.

“Are you feeling good for me?” Jesse murmured against your ear, voice breathless and ragged.

A cold kiss trailed up your neck, nipping at your jaw.

You’ve behaved so well, haven’t you? the cold fingers raked down your throat.

You let out a stuttered moan and brought a hand up to your neck. Your skin was cold.

“Hey…are you alright?” Jesse looked down at you with worry in his eyes.

“Um…” you broke away from his gaze and took a deep breath, stilling your thoughts. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just a bit cold?”

“Oh, I can get a bl-” He started getting off of you to stand up.

“No, no,” you put a hand on his chest and sat up yourself. “It’s okay. Let’s get some dinner fixed, okay?”

With the mood killed to all hell and back, Jesse spent the next two hours helping prepare dinner and staying to watch TV for a while. You’d made it up to him by opening one of your bottles of White Zinfandel sweet rose.

“Goodnight, my beautiful lady.” Jesse gave you the tightest hug imaginable, swaying as he let go to walk down the porch steps.

“Get home safe please!” you called after him. “And drive slowly.”

“Yes ma’am.” Your boyfriend saluted to you, a blush on his cheeks as he got in his car.

You waited for his car to round the corner before going back in, the autumn chill making you rub your hands over your arms.

“That wasn’t so bad,” you said to yourself, switching lights off as you walked to your room, wine bottle and glass in hand. It was less than half full anyways, so why not finish it? It was Friday after all.

Three glasses later, you were on your bed, eyes half closed as music played softly from the TV. You hadn’t bothered to switch it off.

Sooner or later, you found yourself half asleep, blanket half draped over your body. You shivered and pulled the blanket up to your chest.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

The clock didn’t wake you up. You didn’t even own a clock. Yet, there it was. The soft chime. You glanced over at your alarm clock. You couldn’t see the time. You were dreaming.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

“Hello?” you dared to call out, your voice thick from sleep.

Your head pounded. You squeezed your eyes closed for a while; a hand pressed to your forehead. Maybe you shouldn’t have had that rose. It was sweet. It always gave you a headache.

Aren’t you scared?

This voice wasn’t one you had heard before. It was sweet. Far from the scratchy, harsh voice you often heard, that sent chills up your spine and made you want to flee. It almost sounded kind.

“I’m not scared,” you answered into the dark. Your lamp was the only light in your room, and the TV still played on in your living room.

You should be.

Your lamp flickered. The TV hissed with static. Breath caught in your throat, you wrapped your blanket fully around you, like a child scared of a monster under their bed.

“Why should I be scared?”

“And here I thought I was doing so well.”

You whirled around, and almost fell over the side of your bed with how quickly you stood up.

“Sorry to startle you,” the man on the other side of your bed - currently sitting down on the other side of your bed – said very politely. A far cry from the threatening demeanour of his entrance.

“Are you some kind of stalker?” you questioned him. “I heard about the wild animal in town. All around Hawkins. Maybe that was you?”

“What an odd question to ask.” He looked impressed, but for the most part, offended.

“Are you the one that’s been talking to me in my sleep every night?” this situation was so absurd that you didn’t even feel that ashamed to ask, even though you felt your cheeks heat up despite your bravado.

“Now that was what I was hoping you’d ask.”

With the slight lean of his head to the side, you were pushed, by some sort of force, to sit down on your bed again. involuntarily, you felt yourself being pulled over to sit a few inches away from the man, your back against the headboard.

His hair was blond. Almost to the point of being pale. Ghostly. Yet somehow, he was…handsome.

“I don’t want you to be afraid,” he murmured, blue eyes meeting yours.

Your heart seemed to return to its normal pace. His hand softly came up to cup your face. You flinched at the cold.

“I’ve been in your dreams for weeks now…just like this…” he let go of your face and took your chin in his fingers, turning your face to the side.

Your neck bared to him, his lips touched your skin as he spoke.

“I knew you could feel me touch you while Jesse was here. Did you like that?”

“It scared me,” you got out, breath hitching when he nipped at your throat, leaving cold kisses down to your collarbone.

“Is that so?”

His one hand kept your face away from him, his other trailing up your side, skimming over your ribcage, under your pyjama shirt and reaching up to squeeze your breast. His teeth bit over the peak of your other breast over your clothing.

A soft whimper left you. Conscious of how fast your heart was beating – from fear or desire, you couldn’t begin to decipher – you inched up the headboard, giving him the space to lift your shirt up and splay his hands on either side of your ribcage.

“Why me?” you held your breath as he met your gaze, his face inches from yours.

“Because you never yielded,” he hissed into your ear, cupping your heat, palm pressing down hard enough to send a jolt of pleasure through you.

“I tried for weeks. Testing you. Scaring you…” he nipped at your ear. “But the more I tried, the more you resisted. We are alike that way, you and I.”

You didn’t say anything back. Couldn’t really, as his cold lips pressed against yours. Almost tenderly. Though you knew no affection dwelled in those eyes of his.

“But tonight is the last.” Cold fingers slid your shorts aside and pressed against your entrance. “This little game of ours is over.”

You woke up with a start.

The sun was up. You heard birds outside. The rustle of leaves.

You sat up, immediately regretting it as a headache pounded behind your eyes. When you got up, a wind blew through, kissing your bare skin. The windows weren’t open.

When you climbed into the shower, you swore you felt hands run down your spine. But you shook it off.

It had all been a dream…right?

MASTERLIST

SEND A FIC REQUEST / ASK HERE!

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lovetohate001 · 2 years

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you DARE delete my request🤨🤨 jk ily/p

here’s the request ,, again 😭

When Peter killed the test subjects, he killed y/n also and he didn't know. When he was with Eleven, he saw the Black Widow that y/n made for him and he remembered that y/n must've been in the lab somewhere. Peter noticed y/n's dead body behind Eleven, laying in the exact spot they were while making the black widow. While in a state of somewhat shock, Eleven sent him to the upside down, where Peter is now Vecna. Vecna now, somehow felt upset that he killed y/n, and regretted killing them. Now all he had of y/n was the Black Widow they made for him. ☹️💔 (🤍 also because Peter/Vecna can also have a small flashback to when y/n made the Black Widow for him.)

OH MY GOODNESS THANK YOU SO MUCH

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lovetohate001 · 2 years

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Stranger Things Asks Are Open!

Rules

》 My blog mainly focuses on Vecna | Peter Ballard | Henry Creel | 001 content BUT

》 All asks that involve the kids must be kept SFW

》 Asks containing horror themes are welcome! I love giving everyone a scare every now and then!

SEND A FIC REQUEST / ASK HERE!

P.S. make sure to check out the rules on my main masterlist, which you can find as my pinned post <3

#stranger things #stranger things season 4 #stranger things 001 #001 stranger things #peter ballard stranger things #peter ballard fanfic #001 x reader #peter ballard #peter ballard x reader #stranger things imagine #steve harrington #eddie stranger things #eddie munson #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fandom #stranger things fanfiction

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lovetohate001 · 2 years

Video

Billy Survives / Billy Rescue Mission

aka how I cope post-ST4 LOL. Dedicated to @memes-saved-me thank you so much for making this possible ♡

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lovetohate001 · 2 years

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hi uhm first of all THANK YOU FOR THE BLOG secondly you write so well i am just in awe jdfnsdjf okay thirdly my little request, fluff of 001 falling for the reader even though he thought he wudnt find love but hes falling, maybe thinks shes just like the others so keeps it to himself until towards the ending arc shes willing to help him and 011 escape, sorry if its a ramble, whatever you write will be awesome so tyia ahhhh love the blog!!!!1

Until The Ends of the Earth

Orderly! Peter Ballard x Orderly! Reader | FLUFF & ANGST

word count: 1.6K

AN: This fic has a special place in my heart. Childhood friendships, concealed love, confessions, and arguments. I hope you enjoy this one!

Peter couldn’t remember when he first fell for you. Maybe it was when you were both children, and you’d been like an older sister to him. And that tenderness and love you had shown him when everyone else had seen him as a monster…maybe that was what had made his heart start to skip a beat every time he saw you in the morning. That smile that crinkled at the corner of your eyes and your warm “good morning, Peter” ‘s.

You had both fallen into a rhythm over the years, where one was never left alone for long without the other. Brenner hadn’t truly thought about it much. The two of you were an excellent team, and the children here adored the both of you so dearly, that no one could truly try to separate the two of you. There wasn’t any reason to.

“Good morning,” you greeted Peter that cold Monday morning.

Winter was creeping around the corner with the end to another year. And the thing he adored most around this time of year? The colourful scarves you wore over your white uniform. Every day, you seemed to have a completely different one on hand.

“Lavender today?” he asked, his smile soft as he nodded towards the scarf wrapped around your neck.

“Yes!” your smile seemed to brighten, if that was even possible, and you did a small little twirl for him. “Do you like it? I’m not sure if I missed any stitches this time around…I made this last night.”

“I am sure you did. But it looks lovely.” He reached up to run the back of his hand over the scarf, not missing the way you held your breath. “It is so soft. I’m sure the children won’t be able to leave you alone today.”

You rolled your eyes and wrapped your scarf more securely around your neck. “If I have to fight off Eleven today for trying to steal this one as well, I will have to bring you in to stop me from causing damage to the poor girl.”

Peter couldn’t hide the amused smile on his face at that.

“She has four of your scarves already from last week. I am sure she does it on purpose to see if you run out of wool to knit with. Or maybe she wants to start her own collection for all we know?”

“Maybe…” you trailed off in thought, looking down at your shoes, “Maybe! Maybe I should try and make little scarves for the kids!”

“What for?” Peter had no idea where you were going with this.

“Christmas!” you exclaimed.

“Christmas…the children have no idea what that is, first of all,” he pointed out, “and secondly, how on earth will we ever get past Brenner for this?”

“I’ll find a way…” you gave him a small wink and started off down the hall, straight to Brenner’s office.

Peter had no idea how on earth you ended up pulling it off, but after a few hours, you came screaming down the hall: “We can get the scarves!”

A week later, and a week before Christmas, you had decided to give the children their presents. Their laughter leaked out from the Rainbow Room as you and Peter stood by the doors, watching them.

“I’m glad they’re happy,” you said, your eyes distant, a small sadness gnawing at your heart. “I wish they could’ve had a normal life. Sometimes I think they deserve more than this.” You gestured to the white hallways around you.

“I know.” Peter’s gaze had darkened a little, from sadness or anger, you didn’t quite understand. “Look, Y/N…there’s something we need to talk about.”

“Oh?” you had not expected that at all. Your eyes were wide, and you would be lying if you said your heart hadn’t picked up its pace a little.

He leaned in, his voice just above a whisper when he said, “But we can’t talk here. Meet me near the breakroom. Our spot, remember?”

And that was how you found yourself, outside in the cold, at the small little corner towards the back of Hawkin’s Laboratory. There were no cameras here. Your spot. Our spot, you reminded yourself. The two of you had snuck out here as children, showing each other your powers. The pine trees ahead were still the same, and still capped with fresh snowfall.

“Hey.” Peter’s voice came from behind you, starting you and breaking you from your thoughts.

“Hey,” you stared up at him expectantly.

He leaned against the wall and let out a long sigh. His breath came out in a cloud of white. It was so cold out here, yet somehow his eyes seemed colder. Carrying a weight that you hadn’t seen there before this morning.

“What is it?’ you asked, a tentative hand reaching out to rest on his shoulder, covered by a thick coat.

“Just…” he frowned, eyes trained down on his shoes, pushing the snow back and forth. “I talked to Eleven…”

“Eleven?”

“And I have a plan…” he looked at you now, those blue eyes of his filled with a cautiousness that went straight to your heart. “I want us to leave. In a few weeks. Eleven has agreed to help me. Help us.”

“Wait…” you took your hand from his shoulder and wrapped both arms around yourself. “You…want us to escape?”

“Essentially, yes.”

“But…the others? The children? And only Eleven? Will she come with us? And it’ll become a chase. They’ll try to find us and then-“

“Y/N.”

Cold hands reached up to cup your face, turning your gaze straight to Peter’s.

“Y/N, I can’t stay here. Not like this. “

“But the children!” you hissed, wrenching your face free from his touch. “We cannot leave them here. I wont. I cant…” you hated yourself for the tears welling up in your eyes.

“I…”

“Exactly,” you spat. “There is nothing you can say. You can go, for all I care. But I am not leaving these children here. Ever.”

You whirled around, your steps confidently steering you back to the warm white hallways you had known your whole life. You were foolish. Foolish for thinking he would stay here and love you.

And you felt like a child, crying so suddenly and unexpectedly. No- you didn’t want him to leave. And you couldn’t stay here without him. And you couldn’t leave without the children either.

“I love you.”

Those words stopped you dead in your tracks.

“Y/N…I love you.”

Footsteps crunched in the snow. Warm hands touched your shoulders. Warily turned you around.

“You…You do?” your voice was small, your eyes watery, looking up at him pathetically.

“Can I show you?”

With a small nod, the two of you closed your eyes. He held you tightly and pressed his forehead to yours, bringing the memory to the surface. It swam, weak and blurry. The Soteria did that. Weakened his powers. But you could see it.

The two of you were outside, at your spot. You had to be eight. The two of you were eight years old, huddled in the corner. You felt the summer wind stir your hair. Peter sat across from you, a small little spider in his hands.

“Ew…” you hated spiders. And he knew that.

“No. look. She’s friendly!” Peter placed the spider on the ground and pushed her towards you.

You watched the creature warily. The black widow prodder its pincers into the dirt by your shoe, but didn’t make a move to attack you. it looked up at you with little glistening black eyes.

“See?” Peter gave you a wide, toothy smile and took the spider back, placing her on the small flower near him.

“Yeah, they’re not that scary, I guess…”

“So, what can you do?”

“Uh…” you looked around you. you spotted a small puddle of water from the rain earlier. “Watch!”

You stared hard; your lip worried between your teeth as you focused. The puddle shuddered. Then a small drop lifted, hovering above the water. it came over to you. you held out your palm and the two of you watched the droplet hover there for a second before plopping to the ground.

“That’s amazing!” Peter’s eyes were wide.

The memory slowly blurred, and you opened your eyes, seeing that Peter was smiling softly. You knew you mirrored his. That had been the night the two of you had started your little friendship. Somehow you had found the same safe haven of a hiding spot, and started your own little hideout. Your little secret.

Peter leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. He hugged you close.

“I know you don’t want to leave anyone behind. But if we make it. We can try. We can come back…” he spoke into your hair, his hands running up and down your arms.

“You promise?’ you pulled back to look up at him, taking his hands in yours.

“I promise.”

You let out a small sigh of partly relief, partly fear for what was lying ahead for the two of you. Peter lifted your chin up and pressed a soft kiss to your lips.

You shyly buried your face in his chest, your voice muffled when you said: “Do you want to know something, Peter?”

“What is it, my love?”

“I love you too.”

And you always would. Until this was all over. Until the ends of the earth, if you could.

MASTERLIST

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lovetohate001 · 2 years

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hii, i have a question ur bio says "18+" does it mean ur age is above 18 orrr minors like me (im 16)isn't allowed?

18+ means my blog focuses mainly on nsfw works, meaning no minors!

Some of my works are labelled " 🤍 " for fluff. So those works are alright for minors to read!

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lovetohate001 · 2 years

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hii i love ur fics sm and ur one of the only 001 smut writers that i love so i have an request (im sorry if this is too ‘wild’😭) but can u do one of sitting on his face/faceriding?it can be whilst they are still in the lab or they ran away and living together

Ride

Peter Ballard x Female!Reader | R-rated for sexual content

CW: potential spoilers for Season 4 Vol.1

word count: 1.4k

AN: Plot? sorry what plot? porn without a plot? yes. just. yes. and a praise kink, too? yes. edging? that too... i have nothing else to say except enjoy!

“Are you sure?”

The words were soft and gentle, coming from those lips you’d had claim yours only seconds ago. Peter looked up at you with those bright eyes of his, eyebrows furrowed in what you could only guess was worry.

You reached a hand down and ran your hand through his hair. “I’m sure.”

You’d been carrying on this small escapade with Peter for weeks. You’d known each other for years. Essentially your entire childhood. And now…that friendship had blossomed into something more over the past four years. The love you had for each other was inevitable. After enduring all the hurt Brenner had put the two of you in your early childhood…how you’d crept to each other’s rooms to help the other fall asleep…it had all led up to this.

And you couldn’t have asked for a truer beacon of light in this darkness than the man before you…or rather, the man currently laying between your legs.

“You don’t know just how much you’ve made me want you this week,” he admitted, his breath fanning over your core as he spoke.

He kept his gaze on you. He was propped up on his elbows, his palms flat on the inside of your thighs, gently rubbing up and down. His words sent a jolt of pleasure up your spine.

“You liked that, didn’t you?” humour lilted the ends of his words, a smile teasing you.

Gentle caresses slowly became his hands squeezing your thighs. Your breath hitched at the way he would take his hands away and marvel at the way his hands had left a mark there.

His eyes locked on yours again as his fingers gently trailed along the edges of your underwear. Across your abdomen, the soft skin of your inner thighs, prodding, pressing and ghosting over absolutely anywhere except where you needed him most.

“Please…” you whimpered, your voice shaky and soft. You wouldn’t dare make a sound any louder. If you got caught…

“You need to use your words, darling.”

Frustration and humiliation burned your cheeks. You couldn’t even look at him. Since when were you so shy? So hesitant around him?

“Hmm?” he coaxed you on, his index and middle finger ghosting over your core.

You huffed out a breath and gripped the sheets beneath you.

“Please-Please touch me,” you finally got out.

Wordlessly, and rather unexpectedly, you felt him push your underwear to the side. His fingers felt just right.

“Oh,” you couldn’t help reaching down to put a hand in his hair.

His fingers curled up perfectly, touching you right where you needed him. And it felt sinful. You rolled your hips against his fingers and allowed small gasps to pass your kiss swollen lips, knowing well that it would give him all the encouragement he needed to keep going.

Fingers gripped tighter into his hair. His tongue circled your clit. The moans you longed to hear louder were instead a vibration that sang through your veins. Seeing him between your legs, his hair golden in the evening sun, was something that took your breath away. Until he sucked your bud so harshly, you lifted up a hand to bite down on. You felt the bastard smile against you.

“Don’t…don’t stop…” you gasped, back arching and that small warmth built in you, growing. “Please…”

His fingers slowed and his mouth strayed to your thighs, leaving kisses in his wake, an apology of sorts. You almost cried when you watched him put his fingers into his mouth, tasting you, as if he hadn’t been able to satiate himself from before already.

“My angel, I want us to try something today,” he started, sitting down between your legs, his hands resting on your thighs. “Can you trust me?”

“Hmm…” you couldn’t really respond, your eyes fixed on his hands, gently kneading your thighs. You noticed the way your legs trembled slightly. He was definitely to blame.

Peter sighed and let go of your thighs, shifting so he could lie next to you, face to face.

“I know you are incredibly shy…but I thought we could try something different today, don’t you think? Something that I think might make things a bit easier for you…” he trailed off and waited for you to reject his offer.

He knew you tended to stay on the safer side, with the things you knew and expected. He knew you needed to feel safe. And in control.

“I trust you,” was all the energy you had to say. “Show me what to do.”

And that was all he needed from you. His lips met yours, and he brushed his tongue over your bitten and bloodied lip, tenderly. He got up onto his knees and patted the other end of the bed.

“Sit there.”

You obeyed and, with some effort, went to the other side of the bed, grateful that your legs indeed did still work.

Peter lay down where you had been and beckoned you over.

“I want you to face the other way,” he took you by your shoulders and whirled you around. “And I want you to lean over me.”

You were on all fours now, your core right above his mouth.

“Sit up.” That was more of an order. His voice was hoarse, and his hands were around your waist, lifting you up.

A soft moan left you as you felt his hands trail back down to your thighs, holding you in place over him. You couldn’t see his face. But you felt him. His tongue flicked your clit, making your hips jerk down onto his lips.

He lifted you up and latched onto your clit again, sucking gently. Warmth coursed through you as you felt that soft pleasure heat you up again from the inside. Facing away from him like this felt…different.

You swiveled your hips around, hips jolting at the new feelings skittering up your core. oh this was good. His hands on your hips squeezed hard, a low moan reverberating into you in response. You moaned again and leaned back, your hands behind you, on either side of Peter’s head. Hips rocked back and forth over his mouth, and small whines left your parted lips.

A hand found its way up to your bralette, slipping underneath to graze over one of your nipples. You braced both of your hands on Peter’s chest, your breath shuddering out of you in uneven gasps. That tight band coiled in you was so close to snapping, and you had to – needed to do something about it. But Peter knew all too well, and moved his hands back to grip tightly at your hips, holding you in place.

With your body sending sparks in every direction from the touches that lingered on your skin, those slow and tentative licks he left on you drove you past insanity.

“Peter,” you whined, leaning forward to grip onto his thighs harshly, your nails digging into his skin. “Please…stop teasing me.”

You jolted again when he let out a genuine laugh, kissing your clit affectionately.

“If you want it so badly, try harder,” he said, his voice hoarse and so full of lust, you felt your core tighten. “Use me all you want, my angel.”

“Like this?” you grinded your hips down hard, onto his face, whimpering when you felt his tongue dip into your entrance.

“Perfect,” was all he could utter before he squeezed your sides, pushing you down again.

Your nails dug deep into his thighs, hips moving, the flat of his tongue running over your slit up to your clit. A breathy moan left you again. Your movements came to a halt as you steadied yourself, hands splayed over his chest. You were so close.

His hands held your hips so tightly it burned, but you didn’t care. You pressed down onto his mouth, his nose brushing your clit, sending electricity up your aching thighs.

“Fuck…fuck…” you couldn’t stop the obscenities, feeling his fingers press up against your overstimulated clit, his tongue delving deep into you, tracing your entrance and following the movement of your hips.

“Peter, I-“

Your climax ripped through you so strongly that Peter had to hold you up.

“You did so well for me, my angel…” he praised you, his arms wrapped around your waist, gently lowering you to lie against his chest.

You nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck and left a soft kiss on his pulse, your eyes already closing. You were sure as hell going to feel all of this tomorrow. Falling asleep to the soft sound of his heartbeat, and soft touches, massaging your aching thighs, was all you could ever ask for. It was one of the reasons why you loved him so much. And why you always would.

MASTERLIST

SEND A FIC REQUEST / ASK HERE!

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lovetohate001 · 2 years

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i got a an angst Peter ballard x reader

Where y/n is an orderly trying to escape along with Peter and eleven. but y/n ends up getting killed.

adding more to Peter’s rampage

I Will Not Go Quietly

Peter Ballard x Orderly!Reader | ANGST

CW: Violence, Spoilers for Season 4 Vol.1

word count: 1.4k

“We have to leave tomorrow,” you told Peter, your voice holding an air of finality.

The two of you had planned your escape for months. and yesterday, 011 had agreed to help you. You still couldn’t believe it. Tomorrow you would be leaving this place. forever.

“She’ll go down to the basement with me, I’ll let her go through the vent. Once this Soteria is out,” he tapped the bump underneath the soft skin at the base of his neck, “I’ll be able to come back up here and help us get out through the front.”

“And the other children?”

Peter didn’t answer you, instead looking down to where your hands were linked together. He squeezed your hand and looked back up at you, those eyes cold and void of the life you’d seen in them every time he’d spoken to the children here. He’d been the only one to truly help and care for them. And you.

“I want to help us all,” he finally said, his voice so broken that you felt a piece of your heart break with his. “But I can’t. Once we leave, the children here won’t be able to have a life better than the one they had here. They’d be killed. Or interrogated. Either way, we can’t take them all with us.”

“Is there really no way we can get them out of here?” you dared to ask, your eyes shining with tears. You’d spent years with these children. Watching them hone their talents.

“I can make people see things. Have dreams,” he started. “I’ll try and distract the guards long enough for us to take two more with us. We can try and come back, but…”

“It wont work, will it?” you breathed out a shaky sigh and took your hand from his to cover your face. Hot tears fell between your fingers. “We’ll be leaving them here with this monster. While we get to have the life that these kids will never see.”

Peter couldn’t deny. Couldn’t comfort you in any way. His heart clenched uncomfortably tight in his chest, watching you cry like this. And he couldn’t do a thing about it. And so, all he did was hold you. and allow your tears to soak through his shirt.

The next morning, you woke with bleary eyes, dry as sand every time you blinked. You’d cried until you’d fallen asleep. You couldn’t remember when Peter had left your room. Only that you had woken up, the feeling of his arms holding you tightly nothing more than the ghost of a touch long gone.

The rest of the day, your smile never faltered. Praises, and “good job”, and “I’m proud of you” were things you made sure to say to all the children. This would be the last time you saw them. and you wanted them to remember your kindness.

“Wait for me in the storage room down the hall, just before Brenner’s office, alright?” Peter stood outside the Rainbow Room with you, the door open as the children made their way out, to their individual assessments at the other facilities.

You made your way down to the storage room, goosebumps raising on your skin. This was the last time you’d walk these halls. Walk past Doctor Brenner and greet him: “Good morning, Doctor.” Your smile left your face the minute he turned his back to you again.

And now the waiting game began.

Peter walked down the hall, in the opposite direction you had gone in. The basement was cold when he got there. 011 was huddled in a corner, her eyes wide, looking up at him expectantly.

“You don’t have to be scared,” he said gently, “We’re going to get out of here. We’re going to be safe.”

“Promise?’ she asked, holding out her little finger.

Peter smiled. You’d taught her pinkie promises.

“I promise.”

One pinkie promise later, Eleven was standing over Peter, who crouched down on his haunches for her, his belt clenched between his teeth. This was going to hurt.

You were crouched in the storage room in the corner yourself when you started to hear the shouts.

“He’s down the hall!”

“001 and 011! There’s been a breach! 001 and 011 went that way!”

Screaming. The crunch of bones. Silence.

You jumped at the heavy thud that came from the door. Your breaths came out short. You had to stay here. Had to stay quiet. Another thud further away this time.

“No…” you stood up on shaky legs and lunged for the door. You pushed your body against the cold metal and fell through into the hall.

There was so much blood...

Soldiers were scattered across the floor. Their guns, useless at their sides and strapped into their bloodied uniforms. Their arms, their legs, their eyes. You couldn’t help the gag that forced its way into your throat. Bile burnt and clawed its way up.

You squeezed your eyes shut, swallowed once, twice. Deep breaths. In. Out. In. you had to calm down. Whoever had done this. You had to keep your wits about you.

“Y/N?” “Peter…” your eyes stung as bright little dots swam over your vision. But he was there. At the end of the hallway. Eleven was behind him, her eyes wide and frightened.

They were both covered in blood. Had he done this? Did they cause all this death? These horrible, horrible deaths? You took a step towards them. But soldiers came up behind you far too quickly and you heard the gunshots before you could even turn around.

“No!” Peter screamed, making to run towards you. “Y/N!”

But he didn’t make it. You stumbled another step forward. Your legs shook. Was it from the shock? Fear? You didn’t know. you just needed to get to Peter. You felt for the access card in your pocket. Your hand came away red.

“What…” you felt it then. The pain washed down over you like a wave, merciless and beating.

The soldiers behind you had managed to hit you on your back. The bullet went through, above your heart. You aimed for the wall and slid down. A soldier lay dead beside you. You closed your eyes. Breathe. In and out, you told yourself.

The sound of screaming filled your ears again. you heard the soldiers fall to your left. Footsteps. Running from your right. Your eyes were heavy. So so heavy.

“I’m here…I’m here…” Peter was sobbing, falling to his knees by your body. He lifted a hand to your face, fingers shaking as he dared to touch your cheek.

Your white uniform bled three crimson patches. Your eyes remained closed. Those eyes he’d seen wide open in fear moments ago.

“No…” he grabbed your shoulders and hugged you tightly. As if that would somehow wake you up. Bring you back. He rocked back and forth with you like that, the alarms ringing, ringing, ringing.

And he wished it would all stop for a moment. Enough that he could stay with you just a little bit longer. But the gunshots came back. And he was forced to his feet.

“Peter!” Eleven shouted from the end of the hall he’d left her at.

He didn’t hear her anymore. He didn’t care. He didn’t care about anyone here anymore. Let all of them die. He let the soldiers in their pathetic little uniforms with their useless guns drag him down the hallway.

That’s right. Give the bastards hope.

Reaching the corner, Peter cricked his neck to the side. His blood ran cold at the crunch and wet gurgles. The two men fell, their grips limp around his biceps. They slumped to the floor. Their skulls were crushed in, and he was left to look out at the mess of bodies he’d left in his wake.

“For you... For you, I will not go quietly.”

The promise was hushed, uttered and murmured under his breath as he continued his rampage. Hawkin’s Laboratory, this facility, was left with a river of blood, Peter’s footprints on the white tiles, as he promised himself that these people would never forget who he was. Who he had been and who he had left behind.

The only thing left to be witness to his carnage was Eleven, shaking in the corner. She trembled and fell to the floor, hugging her knees to her chest.

MASTERLIST

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