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inklore · 2 years

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teach me to be cruel.

premise: bad girls get rewarded, good girls get nothing.

pairing: peter ballard x (f)reader

word count: 1.20k

warnings: eighteen+ content, porn with plot, dark, fingering, orgasm denial, mentions of murder and blood, peter is a warning himself, slight degradation, undertones of manipulation.

etc: we’ve finally made it here, i’ve finally done it, it was only a matter of time before another devilish blonde man consumed me, this is not shocking lmao.

i do not give anyone permission to translate or repost my work, please be respectful — if you enjoyed please comment or reblog!

The hard concrete at your back, the blades of your shoulder pressed into it, is cold and seeps through your gown. The heat from your body is radiating off of you like a furnace as if his fingers between your legs were hot pokers that were sparking small flames in your insides until an inferno has started up and you feel like every organ and bone in your body is being melted down to something plabable; like the play-doh the children play with in the rainbow room.

The wire to your morality vacant and lacking a pulse. Sometimes you wondered if there was something wrong with it, that moral part of your brain that everyone has for basic human survival. “Sometimes it gets crossed with another wire, an evil one” Papa had said. Looking at you with about as much interest as he does when he’s ordering the group of you to throw each other across the room, upon your asking of what made someone bad. Cruel.

The answer had done little to make you run off of the beaten path you currently walked along. It hadn’t made that moral wire in your brain go off and rethink this. Rethink meeting him in closets. Rethink using your powers to turn afternoon sneaks into nightly rendezvous between your bed sheets; his hand pressed to your mouth, his deep grunts of “You don’t know how to be quiet do you? Pathetic” in your ear. A smirk on his lips when you looked up at him and gave him those pleading eyes, the ones with tears at your ducts and devotion filled in them like a hornets nest ready to be opened and released onto the world.

It’s where his interests lie with you.

You were a hornets nest he kept kicking until you were nothing but a carcass of something made to be strong, to house something that was supposed to give life. And now all you do is take it away, for him. But wasn’t that your purpose here? To be used for what you have, for what you were. The only difference between him and Papa was that you were in love with him. Devoted.

When you did something bad, made others bleed for fun, on accident, because you went too far, were too powerful; Peter never scolded. Never reprimanded. He filled that whole of shame in you, that morality with something thick and suffocating, something that felt more like home than this sterile hell you were born in.

So why should you feel bad when his fingers are between your legs, or his tongue? Those moral feelings of how wrong it is to let him mold and shape your molten insides that he’s burned into his perfect killing machine to help him with his vision: had no home inside of you.

The wires of power and devotion—lust—wrapping around any good wire you had until it was strangled and all you had left was the bad, the evil that Peter kissed, sucked, and fucked in and out of you.

His fingers inside of you right now is the only kind of good you want, need. His thumb rubbing hard strokes into your clit, forearm resting on the wall beside your head. His scowl is deep, his lips red and raw from how hard he had kissed you—from the teeth you had bit into his bottom lip to silent your moans, so no one would hear through the door as he fucked you with his fingers.

“Here I thought you knew how to listen to directions.” You can trace the annoyance in his voice right back to the girl in the infirmary right now. Body twisted in pain, heart still beating. The weakling he encouraged you to end the suffering of—one of many he’s asked you to take care of for him.

“I did.” You say in puffs, your jaw going slack for half a second when you feel the curl of one of his fingers and it makes your fists ball at your sides, your legs shaking. “She–I–”

His free hand is at the back of your neck squeezing the muscle there, making you look directly at him, a wince of pain replacing your stuttering and getting lost in the mixture of pleasure between your thighs. “She’s still alive. She’s still suffering, even more now that you’ve broken her bones.” The blue of his irises are dark, like a sea you’re drowning in. The casting shadow of his scowl making them appear almost black. “You didn’t listen to directions,” the up tick of the corner of his mouth only makes your stomach sink lower. Leaning his face close to your lips, enough to have your eyes straining to look up at his height, “and now you don’t get to cum.”

The whine you let out is a mix of frustration and anguish at words, and the stretch of him adding a third finger inside of you—something you could take, pleaded for when you couldn’t have the stretch of his cock. But as his fingers press up and move faster, quicker, the squelch of your wetness louder than your ragged gasps from trying to keep quiet. The pressure of his thumb still moving against your clit so good that you know this has nothing to do with your pleasure, this is a punishment.

You didn’t follow orders and now he wants to see if you even know how to; don’t come, don’t come, don’t come.

Peter thinking you were anything less than his devoted disciple was the only thing that could bring you to tears. Not his cruelty, not the bloodshed he’s helped paint your hands with. He was your only weakness, and the only thing that could make you possess any grotesque human condition; love.

And he knows it, brings a smile to his face. Loved using it against you in and out of your bed; teasing you until you were so sickly weak for him to touch you—to fuck you, “you look so beautiful when you have that pathetic look on your face” he’d confess into your ear as he fucked you from behind; “this is the way you were meant to look, covered in their blood, beautiful” he’d declare as he ran his fingers over the dried blood on your tits as he thrusted into you.

He loved your love for him. Just as he loved your power. He could use it. Consume it.

What he didn’t love was good. It only caused disappointment and that’s what you have done. Disappointed him. The girl was still alive and you were being punished for it.

“I’m,” you swallow, whimper. “I’m sorry, please.”

His grin is dark, demented, dead. “Begging only makes it worse.” He presses his lips to your forehead, whispers against it. “Focus. Because if you cum, you won’t for a week.”

“Please,” You can feel your walls throbbing, clenching, swelling around his fingers. That low ache in your belly that feels more like a death sentence right now than it usually does when Peter’s touching you like this.

"You haven't shown me you've earned it. I think you've forgotten our purpose here.” There’s no pity in his eyes as he runs his nose down the bridge of yours, pulling back to grin down at you. “Good girls don’t get to cum.”

#peter ballard x reader #peter ballard #peter ballard x you #peter ballard smut #stranger things smut #001 x reader #henry creel x reader #peter ballard x y/n #001 #001 smut #001 x you #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #peter ballard fic #henry creel #henry creel smut

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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!”

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 !!

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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m0mmat0rtle · 2 years

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“He’s literally a psychotic murder who killed many innocent people and children”

Yeah but he has pretty eyes, fluffy hair, and would hug me when I’m sad

#001 peter ballard #peter Ballard #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things 001 #001 #001 x you #peter Ballard my beloved #peter ballard stranger things #stranger things season 4 #peter ballard x reader #jamie campbell bower #Henry creel stranger things #i love Peter Ballard #peter Ballard is so pretty #peter ballard is hot #001 can step on me #001 spit in my mouth #001 my beloved

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petersprincesss · 2 years

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We Don’t Talk That Way

Me again, hello!

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

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

Genre: Smut. So filthy.

Rating: Explicit as fuck. Minors DNI

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

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

(Proof reading is for dorks)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We don’t talk that way, understand?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you?” Peter asked deviously.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Language,” he scolded.

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

“Please what, Y/N?”

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

“Peter, I-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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usetheeauthor · 2 years

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The Nightmare on Hawkins Street +18 (Request)

Dom!Vecna x Dark!Virgin!Fem!Reader

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

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

Word Count: 2.9k+

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

June 16, 1983

Dear Diary,

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

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

June 20, 1983

Dear Diary,

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

June 30, 1983

Dear Diary,

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

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

July 1, 1983

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“My king.” You moaned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sit.” He commands you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Who?”

“Bring me the girl, Eleven. Alive.”

Tag: @stygianoir

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lovetohate001 · 2 years

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i think a 001 x reader where the reader has a bunch of tattoos and lets the kids color them in and hes just sitting back admiring them would be so cute

(your work is literally amazing bro 😭😭😭<3)

Colour Me In

Peter Ballard (001) x Gender Neutral!Reader | FLUFF

AN: thank you for loving my work! this was the sweetest ask and I hope you enjoy it as much as i loved writing it!

Working at Hawkin’s National Laboratory was difficult most days. But some days were just worth all the trouble. The children here were all just a bit older than eight, and they simply adored going to the Rainbow Room. No matter how tired or overworked they were from their training in the mornings, they all rushed to the colourful setup to spend time with all the puzzles and games waiting for them inside. And it broke your heart a little, knowing that this facility would most likely be all they would ever know growing up.

“Excuse me…” 011 gently tapped you on your shoulder, her wide eyes looking up at you. “Colour?”

You were confused for a second…looking at 011, and then to the red marker she had in her hand, cap off, and the felt tip poised above your arm.

“Colour? You want to colour on my arm?”

She nodded enthusiastically and wiggled the pen in her hand for emphasis.

You rolled the white sleeve of your uniform up to your elbow and showed her the dainty tattoos across the inside of your arm. They were thin branches, curling around your wrist up to your elbow, cherry blossoms adorning them and falling off in small little petals. The pink ink had faded and was no more than a dusting of colour now. You hadn’t had time for a touch up with how busy you were.

Without a word, 011 began to brush the pen across the small little flowers, the felt tickling your arm in the process. A few of the other children stopped what they were doing to steal a quick glance at the two of you, curious as ever.

After a while, you had three children crowding around your arm, not even bothering to keep within the lines like 011 did. They made small little squiggles all over your arm, even getting a few small dots of ink onto your pristine white uniform. But you didn’t mind. The children were happy and that was all that mattered. Seeing those little smiles on their faces was all you needed. You could worry about the stains later.

The intercom came on to announce lunch. The children “awww’ed” and set down their pens, obediently getting to their feet and making their way to the dinner hall.

You sighed and picked up the markers they’d left on the floor, a small smile on your face as you looked at the doodles they’d left for you.

“You are such a celebrity here, I must say I am impressed,” Peter said, just a small bit jealous of the attention the children had given to you today. He was usually their favourite.

“Aww, do you want to draw on me too?” you cooed, teasing him and waving a marker in his face.

Without a word, he snatched the purple marker from your grasp and took your hand in his. He drew a small little heart on your hand.

“There,” he said, passing the marker back to you with a grin on his face, those eyes of his shining with pride, “now I don’t have to be jealous anymore.”

It was an understatement to say that you spent the rest of your day staring down at that little heart, a foolishly large grin on your face.

MASTERLIST

SEND AN ASK / FIC REQUEST HERE

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onlymxlly · 2 years

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The Radio: Our next song is going to be Running up-

Every stranger things fan in existence:

#stranger things #st4 #stranger things s4 #stranger things season 4 #stranger things spoilers #stranger things volume 2 #Vecna #Vecna x reader #peter ballard x reader #henry creel x you #001 x reader #001 x you

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muness · 2 years

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Hiii! I wanna ask if you can do a petter ballard x reader where hes like really protective of the reader?

hii! of course! it's my very first request so i'm very excited for you to read it, i hope you will like it!

summary; you enter the Hawkins Lab staff as a nurse and a certain orderly falls in love with you at first sight, with the objective to protect you. pairing;peter ballard x fem!reader warnings: mentions of violence and torture ig? words: 1,0K

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the moment peter first laid his eyes on you, he was mesmerized by the view. he could not believe someone like you were real, in front of him. he secretly pinched his arm to see if he was dreaming, but he wasn't. your [h/c] hair were tied in a ponytail, leaving to peter the right to watch all of your features. he didn't get to study you long enough because dr brenner broke that moment between the two of you, walking into the rainbow room, not very long after you.

"-Peter, I have to introduce you to the new nurse, her name is [Y/N] and she will take care of the children with your help. -Hi, nice to meet you." you said, with assurance. your voice sounded like sugar in peter's ears. it was soft and soothing, enough to ease the kids and enough to make peter fall in love with you. even your name was beautiful. you reached for his hand, and he took it cautiously, as if you were made or sugar and shook it. your skin was so soft, he swears he could've melted. "-Nice to meet you, [Y/N]." he smiled. and that's how he got stuck in your spell ever since then. since you are employed, he weirdly get lots of headaches, leading him to spend a little bit of time in the infirmary with you, and if it wasn't for him, he brings a child who has hurt themselves. you always find a way to spend a little bit of time with each other, even if you just pass by in the hallways, he helps you carry your documents around. you've been working for 2 months in the Hawkins Lab now and you have learn to know peter like no one else got to know him. you are each other's closest person in your life, and you like it this way. tonight, you don't seem to get to sleep, you have a terrible headache, a joke for a nurse like you. slowly getting out of your bed, you push your bedroom door and start walking in the hallway. lost in your thoughts, you don't see the shadow coming towards you and bump into it. but before you lost your balance, the unknown person quickly catches your arm and brings you close to him. you close your eyes and smell the sweet perfume you can recognize anywhere. "-Peter ? -Watch where you're going, clumsy girl." the point of worry in his voice matches the mocking. you thank him and even if you wanted to stay there forever, you get out of his arms. the little red light above your heads is not enough to light the entiere hallway but you can still see Peter's face. "-Why are you awake?" you ask, surprised to see him around so late. "-I'm looking if anyone falls in the hallway." You slightly push his shoulder and laughs. your laugh is so pretty, he can't imagine what he would have done if you were hurt because of him. "-Actually, I felt that someone was having trouble sleeping. I didn't think it would be you. -I'm really sorry Peter, I didn't think I would keep you awake." the way his name sounds in your mouth is delightful, he will never get tired of it. your eyebrows are furrowed and you pout a bit, disappointed in yourself. peter puts his hand on your head and shuffles your hair. he realizes it's the first time he sees you without your hair tied. it looks good on you. you really look like an angel under this discreet light. it perfectly marries all your features. "-Don't worry, but you should get back to your dorm and try to get some sleep. -Yes, I should... Have a great night Peter." the weeks after that incident, peter became even more sweet and patient around you, as he realizes more than ever that you're just a human, as weak as the other and you can break like everyone else. he's being extra careful around you and helps you more than he should sometimes, mostly carrying stuff around for you. he's really sweet to the children, but he's even more when he's alone with you. one day, he's about to enter the infirmary as he hears noises on the other side of the door. he opens the door wide and see you, on the floor your hands on your ankle, weak.

he walk fast to your side and take you carefully in his arms, like a bride. you have your eyes close and you're biting your lower lip to not scream. it hurts to see you like that, so vulnerable. he puts you on a bed and lay your leg on his thighs. you shiver when your ankle touches the edge of his leg. the worried look on peter face has grown even more. "-Who did this to you, [Y/N] ?" he says softly, he doesn't want to rush you with his words. you finally open your eyes and gaze into his. tears are about to fall on your cheeks as you say the name of your assailant. peter quickly gets up with a precise idea in his mind. he doesn't hear you begging to not hurt him, but he doesn't care. his precious nurse, fallen from the angels is hurting. he only sees red. the rainbow room's doors open widely and peter's piercing blue eyes are searching for one person in particular. he's there, playing with the other children, as if he didn't just attack the poor innocent nurse. you were nothing but kind to the children since you've arrived, but it seems like some are jealous of your complicity with peter. he won't allow that to happen. "-002." all the children turn to look at him. nobody has ever heard peter talk with such a deep and cold voice before. all of his empathy is gone, just for this moment. he harshly grabs 002's arm, take him out under the flabbergasted looks of everyone in the room, and walk fast all over the corridor, to the punishment room. he doesn't hear the kid screaming to let him go, nor the sweet nurse, crawling on the floor to tell him to stop. the only thing he thinks about is revenge. and he will get it for the angel he will always try to save from this awful world. he will do anything to keep her safe, even if it means torturing a child.

"-Do not hurt her like that ever again."

#peter ballard x reader #henry creel x reader #001 stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things 001 #stranger things imagine #001 x reader #001 x you #001 imagine #henry creel #henry creel imagine #peter ballard #peter ballard imagine #stranger things fic #stranger things boys #stranger things

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rxttingsblog · 2 years

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ೃ⁀➷ Notes ೃ⁀➷

Summary: Reader is a mute and reserved test subject at Hawkins Lab. No one knew what her voice sounded like. She only communicated by using a notebook and always came off as “emotionless” but one night, someone catches her sobbing in her room alone because of a disastrous incident that occurred. Will anyone be there to comfort her?

—Peter Ballard/Henry creel x fem!crybaby!mute!Reader

(Reader is 18+ obviously)

______________________________________

Warning: age-gap, yandere!peter, mentions of m*rder, abuse, angst, pure fluff tbh, dark themes inside Hawkins lab.

•••

It’s not that you were stubborn, you just couldn’t speak. You refused to socialize with anyone else around you. Even with the other test subjects who were kindhearted towards you. Not a single word escaped your mouth. There were only some occasions where you debated on interacting but at the end of the day you still remained as quiet as a mouse.

This obviously took a toll on your life. Papa said you had to communicate. He said you wouldn’t make it anywhere in life if you just stayed mute for your entire life but you never gave a shit. Why did life matter? You were going to be stuck in this prison forever anyway, so it never mattered to you in the first place. But because of Brenner’s toxic behavior you had to communicate in some way. That’s when you decided to communicate through a notebook. Papa was never too keen on the idea but at least you were “opening up.”

But despite having the notebook, you barely put it to use. You still never socialized with any human being. Sometimes you used the notebook, sometimes not at all. No one even cared to talk to you anyway. You couldn’t name anyone who cared at the top of your head. So that’s why you had barely put the notebook to use.

However, there was only one. This one certain person who actually did talk to you. A person who took a liking towards you. Someone who found you to be rather intriguing. It shocked you to your core because you’ve never experienced this much kindness before. Sure, maybe some of the other test subjects were nice but it would always end up with them thinking you’re weird at the end of the day. This caused you to develop trust issues. You even were hesitant about trusting the young man who talked to you almost everyday.

His name was Peter, or Mr. Ballard. The other patients referred to him as Mr. Ballard. He was the only one who didn’t think you were weird. At first you were shy around him since you weren’t expecting an orderly to socialize with you but later on you opened up which he was very glad about. But even he didn’t even hear your voice and you weren’t planning on revealing it to him anytime soon. You weren’t sure why he was so interested in you. Was it because you were different? He always told you that you were different but he reminds you that it was in a good way. It confused you to no end.

But even though you didn’t trust him that much due to your mental health. You still had great respect for him. You could even say that the two of you were friends. It was still awkward because you never understood the meaning of friendship nor how it worked. While others talked and laughed with each other you only talked to your one friend by writing the conversation out. When you wrote, Peter responded verbally. But he never made fun of you, maybe he secretly liked that you were never loud and obnoxious like some of the other patients here.

Peter seemed to be quite hostile towards everyone else besides you. He was always there to give you a hand. If he ever witnessed you getting bullied, he would protect you and turn in the bullies to his boss. Papa would usually handle them accordingly since bullying was permitted in the laboratory. But even after all of that, you’d remain as emotionless as can be. It even surprised Peter.

He never met someone who was so void of emotion. Until that one night that changed everything..

—

“So even after all of this you still remain silent?” Taunted Papa, he loomed over your collapsed body that lied on the cold tiled floor.

The day was going by smoothly before Papa called you in. At first you assumed that the two of you were going to have a private lesson not a lesson where he tortured you. Papa explained to you that this was a punishment for being non-verbal.

Visible scars, burns, scabs, and even bruises were engraved into your once soft skin. You weren’t even expecting this to happen. All of this madness just because you had trouble speaking. You were fighting back the urge to cry. But only Papa could tell you were about to break. A smug smile spread across his crusted lips.

“Still nothing, hm?” Brenner chastised with his grin growing wider. His smile made you want to punch him in that moment.

Your body remained motionless on the ground. All you could do was stare up at him with intense fear that kept increasing. Papa was a very cruel and ruthless man. This was his dark side.

Only you had seen this side of him and it’s not like anyone would believe you if you were to expose him. Expose the things he has put you through. He made you crave the sweet embrace of death. You remember you’d always ask the same questions in your head; “Why does this have to happen to me? Did i deserve this?”

“Alex, please escort 004 back to her room.” Ordered Papa.

The orderly nodded and approached you. He commanded for you to get up but you were far too weak to even stand on your own. Alex scoffed in annoyance before aggressively pulling you up by your wrist. You tried not to yelp out in pain.

Alex escorted you back to your room. It was common for patients and orderlies to walk hand in hand. Papa said it was one of the main rules. You thought it was childish and you always resented it. But rules are rules despite how stupid they can be. The pain on your feet increased the more you walked. Alex practically dragged you since your feeble walking pace aggravated him.

After a few agonizing seconds, you made it back to your room in one piece. Alex locked the door behind you. Then again, it was common for that as well. The subjects had zero freedom and always kept the doors locked during the night. The orderlies on night shift would usually do checks in the room. In order to make sure no one escaped and that no one was awake. The rules here were always very uptight. That was another thing that annoyed you to no end.

When you could no longer hear Alex’s foot steps. That’s when you broke down into a crying fit. You had the tendency to sob hysterically when you were extremely upset. You were a master at faking your emotions so getting by in the lab without passing a single feeling was going off without a hit. But behind closed doors was when you were your truest self. That’s when you showed emotion.

It was hard not to cry too hard. After all, you couldn’t draw attention. And god forbid if anyone actually heard you. You wouldn’t be surprised if the people here punished you for having literal emotions. If someone were to ever cry here they’d get in trouble. Just another reason you lacked public emotion.

Your soft sobs grew louder so you had to shut yourself up by clasping a hand over your mouth as you lied down in bed. You were doing everything in your power to not strengthen your sadness. But being in this cold room seemed to make everything feel beyond impossible.

So here you were, with your body curled up on the bed, a hand over your mouth in order to subside your sobbing, and racing thoughts that never left your brain. You grabbed the pale covers and pulled them over your head. You feared that one of the mean guards would punish you if they heard you since at this point your crying was becoming louder. It was to a point where you were hyperventilating.

It’s not that you were emotionless, you just acted. In front of other people you pretended to be normal. But not that it helped from the way you were mute and used a damn book to communicate with. Everyone thought you were even stranger.

Who could even want to associate themselves with a screw up like you? A deep part of you inside was wishing someone would comfort you but as always comfort was one of the main things forbidden. To summarize it, love was forbidden. Not that it was a shocker though.

The clock finally hit 9:00 PM. That’s when night shift would be on patrol. Peter was one of the few orderlies who often took that shift. They would all frequently do checks. But this was something you weren’t aware of. You were far too busy crying to even care. Peter was on shift with one of the other orderlies. He had been wanting to talk to you all day before you were ripped away from him by Papa. Peter couldn’t express his anger towards that old hag.

Before you got punished, Peter and you were having a lovely conversation in the rainbow room. He would usually tell you about his kinship towards black widow spiders. You’d always listen to him because something about him was comforting. Especially his voice. Peter knew almost every aspect of you. But catching you crying caught him off guard.

As Peter made his way down the depressing corridor he could make out just the sound of faint crying. Normally, this is something he wouldn’t care about. But the crying came from your room. You were the only person he actually cared about. The both of you shared a deep connection. You weren’t like the others since you were the only one who was actually born with this gift. Unlike the others who were cheap rip-offs of him. Peter’s heart sank at the thought of you crying.

He didn’t want you to be upset. It honestly shocked him to hear you crying though. Usually you were the most reserved person ever. A smile never on your face, your eyes no longer magnetic and now empty. Lacking empathy 24/7. Never enthusiastic or interested in anything at all. You were also very insecure which is something he never understood. Peter always thought you were gorgeously exotic.

Peter knew the risk he was about to take, he knew he would get in trouble (lots of trouble) for this but he didn’t give a damn anymore. It honestly wouldn’t matter in the future anyway because he was going to kill everyone in this lab. As soon as he did, that’s when you two would finally escape together. Peter would provide you with the love you deserved. He only liked being your caretaker not anyone else’s. He only wanted you to talk to him and him alone.

“(Y/n), may you please let me in?” Peter asked after knocking on your door.

Your heart suddenly dropped, he knew you had been crying. You felt bad for not letting him in but why should you? All the orderlies torture you so what if he was like them? You wouldn’t even be surprised. Whenever something good happened something bad always lurked around the corner.

When you didn’t answer, Peter took it upon himself to let himself in by force. So he pulled out his key card to open the door. All orderlies had access to the patients rooms. They could let themselves in whenever they pleased. Giving you yet another reason to be afraid.

When you heard the door swing open you remained hidden under the covers. But Peter was no fool. He was able to make out the outline of your figure that was hidden under the blanket. He let out a brief sigh but it wasn’t one of those sighs out of annoyance. As he approached you, your heart pounded out your chest. The rising fear that he was going to harm you like everyone else in this hellhole. You wished you weren’t so scared.

Peter sat on the edge of your bed right next to your hidden body. Without trying to startle you he pulled the blanket off your head but as if on command, you subconsciously jumped and snatched the blanket from out his grasp. Peter held his hands up in surrender and indicated that he meant no harm. He only wanted to know what was wrong with you. He did truly care, no lying intended.

“Hey, hey, sweetness. I’m not going to hurt you..” Peter gently reassured, with another attempt to remove the blanket that was over your head.

His heart sank when he saw your tears, your glossy eyes, and puffy pink lips. Peter frowned at the sight of it. You pulled your gaze away from him and faced the other side of the wall. You felt humiliated. You kept the other part of the blanket over your body. Not wanting to show your fresh injuries. He’d most likely interrogate you if he saw them.

“Do you mind telling me what’s wrong? I promise it’ll only stay between the two of us.” The orderly soothed, while gently running his slender fingers through your hair. He then cupped his hand under your chin so that you’d meet his gaze. His fingers brushed off your tears the more they cascaded down your face.

Peter probably wouldn’t believe you but it didn’t hurt to try. With the blanket still wrapped around you, you hastily reached for your notebook and pencil and began to write. Peter watched you closely while you were in the process of writing.

“Papa hurt me because i’m always so quiet.” Is what you had wrote down. Peter analyzed it closely, understanding every word. The anger he felt couldn’t even be described. If he didn’t have that soteria implanted in his neck none of this would be happening. He couldn’t wait to escape with you.

“What did he do to you?” Peter asked next, wanting to know what type of injuries you had. At first you hesitated but at the end went with it. You slipped off the blankets that were over your body and showed him your injuries. His icy gaze went wide while looking at this.

You felt more tears welling up in your eyes as it ached to fight them back. For some reason when someone comforted you it made you cry even more. You let out small sobs as you begun to cry again but Peter was quick to react.

“Hey.. come here, doll.” Peter gave his lap two firm pats. Beckoning for you come over. You gave into your instincts and crawled into his lap. Your arms draped around his torso while his hands snaked around your waist to pull you all the way up into his lap. You sobbed into his chest as he whispered nothing but sweet praises into your ear. An attempt to calm you down.

“Shhh, it’s okay, it’s okay. I’m here now. You’re doing so good for me, darling. I promise we’ll get out of here one day. Just the two of us.” He continued to soothe you. Peter removed one hand from your waist so that he could gently caress your hair. His shirt felt so soft against your face, your tears did leave a damp spot on his white uniform though. Hopefully he doesn’t kill you for that. You then felt Peter place a long kiss on top of your head. Your body shuddered in response.

You wondered what this feeling was. Something about the way Peter comforted you didn’t feel like it was in a friendly way. More of a romantic way?But love was a word you never fully understood. All you knew is that it ended in heartbreak.

You remember Peter once explained to you how Papa was overly strict with him too. This led you to overthink. He was risking his life for you and you hated it. Peter shouldn’t risk this for you. The amount of guilt you’d feel afterwards if you ever got him in trouble. Without warning, you squirmed away from his embrace. Peter furrowed an eyebrow at you, he didn’t like that you pulled away from him.

“Honey, what was that for? Why’d you pull away?” He inquired, worry residing his raspy voice. His conflicted gaze fixated on you.

You just shook yourself and wrote something inside your notebook again. The only thing that could be heard was the ongoing scribbling from your dull pencil.

“Why are you doing this? You’ll get in trouble. I’m not worth your time. I don’t want you in trouble.” The paper read, Peter examined it once more and only hummed in response. A hum that told you he disagreed with your statement.

“Oh, sweetheart.. you do know i’m already well aware of that? I know what i’m risking. I’m choosing to do it. I don’t care what happens to me.” Peter stated matter of factly. You only shook your head, you still felt guilty.

Peter only chuckled in response and shuffled his body closer to yours, “Now how about you let me hold you? What type of caretaker would that make me if i left you alone in a state like this?”

To be blunt, you wanted him to comfort you. Actually no, you needed it. But you still didn’t want him to get in trouble.

Now your stubbornness was coming out, you huffed in response and plopped back down onto the bed. Curling up into a ball. Peter only rolled his eyes and crawled into bed next to you. He lied next to you and looked deeply into your eyes.

“Why are you being so stubborn, hm?” He asked with a little hum. You felt so small under his intense staring. He tucked a stand of hair behind your ear.

Peter knew how hard communication was for you. But that didn’t matter because it’s like he could read your thoughts out loud. You and Peter were the complete opposite in a way. He’s stronger, more clever and persistent. While you were vulnerable and could crack at any given second.

You just felt like crying again, you did anything in your power to avoid direct eye contact with him. Peter didn’t like that so much. He wanted to make sure he had your full attention.

“Look at me,” Peter suddenly demanded, but his voice remained soft. He could never be upset with you. He did however want your attention.

He got your attention by guiding your face back to his so that you could look right into his eyes. Peter stared longingly into your e/c eyes. Like he was staring right into your very soul. His soft hand stroked your delicate face. Peter was very handsome, it was dark in your room but you were still able to make out his sharp jawline, his soft golden locks, and ocean blue eyes.

“You’re so beautiful..” Peter complimented, your face flushed at his words. You wondered if he could feel your face heating up. The power he had over you was unreal.

Without warning, Peter wrapped his large arms around you and pulled you into his chest. His fingers ventured up so that he could play with your hair once more. As you rested against his chest you could hear his steady heartbeat. The caressing of your hair slowly subsiding your sniffling and lulling you to sleep.

For the first time in your life, you felt safe, at ease, no papa, no more bullying. Peter was your home. You took great solace while being in his embrace. If only this night could last forever. You knew for a fact he would be gone in the morning and it filled you with unwanted dread. But work must come first. Oh how you just despised the cycle of life.

“I promise i won’t let anyone hurt you ever again.” Was the last thing Peter whispered in your ear before you finally drifted off to sleep.

It wasn’t a lie that Peter loved you. He’d do anything in his power to protect you. He was going to love you no matter what. Even if you refused to reveal your voice to him. Peter would find out what you sounded like sooner or later. For now he cherished this one spectacular moment of you sleeping peacefully in his arms.

There was no need to worry about pain anymore because this would all be over soon. Peter would make sure of it. And that is a promise he made to you and only you.

(a/n: hi! this is my first time writing on tumblr so please be nice! if y’all have any suggestions or requests i’d love to hear them! i hope you enjoyed this story. i’m sorry if my english is bad btw!)

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inklore · 2 years

Text

sickly sweet

premise: becoming a monster was not how you saw your life going with the one you loved. but then eddie’s gone and you’re all alone. henry making sure to bring the both of you back together again.

pairing: vampire!eddie munson x (f)reader x vampire!henry creel

word count: 3k

warnings: eighteen+ content, blood and gore, dubcon (in the sense of reader not giving consent to be changed into a vampire), dark content-ish, endgame poly, mentions of eddie and henry hooking up, threesome illusions, choking, teasing, time skips, henry’s an ass.

etc: don’t ask me what this is but it just came to mind and was inspired by interview with a vampire a bit ok. eddie vamp edit credit goes to @cherubsfool.

i do not give anyone permission to translate or repost my work, please be respectful — if you enjoyed please comment or reblog!

You’d like to say you remember how it happened but you don’t. You only remember waking to a scorching pain in the back of your throat and an insatiable thirst.

And then there was Eddie.

Eddie who you thought you had lost. Who you mourned. Still mourned for. Cried for. Called out for at night through sleepless tears.

Here he was alive and above you. A scowl of concern on his face.

“It’s going to be okay!”

When he touches your skin it burns. His touch is cold while your body feels like an inferno. Like molten lava is running through your veins burning down every nerve ending, blood cell, and organ in its way.

You know now that it was doing just that. Burning everything in its wake to rebuild you into something else. Something deadly and gruesome.

“I told you I didn’t want this!” Eddie’s voice is like hot led, it sears, makes your ears ring, sounds off. Too loud. Too angry to be his.

You’re too weak to turn your head. To watch his descent from beside you, a loud crash in the corner of the room, growls, angry words.

This is all wrong. Your Eddie is not an angry boy, he’s kind, has a good heart, soft, understanding.

Everything is wrong. The way you’re breathing. The weakness in your body. The burn, the sweat that’s pouring off of you as you twitch and ache. Your eyelids feel heavy, breath coming out in a hoarse brittleness that makes your chest shake; were you dying? Was this death? Is that why Eddie was here?

You try to open your mouth. To speak. To say Eddie’s name. To cry out. To do anything but you’re stationed in pain and soon all you see is black.

“I told you I didn’t want this!” The anger that’s flowing through his bloodless veins is enough to have him across the room in seconds, his hand around the blondes throat.

“Ooh,” Henry smirks, hands up in defense. Fangs still dripping your blood. The sight making Eddie’s nails dig into the skin of his neck. A gruff wince falling from the blondes lips. “If I knew this is all it would take to break you I would have done it ages ago.”

Henry’s laugh hit’s the spot where his heart used to be. A growl burning harshly in his throat.

Eddie never knew anger like this. Not before this. Before he became this thing—monster. But now all he felt is anger. Everyday. Anger and despair from the endless need, crimson, copper, ache.

And the desire to have you.

For you to be his again.

It was a dead end fantasy that only made the anger worse. Fed the despair as he fed off of others.

In a perfect world Eddie would present this new self to you and you’d love him despite it. You’d wrap your arms around him and welcome him into your warm embrace and he’d be able to breathe again. He’d feel whole. Found.

But then the wind would blow just right, your window left open late at night as you got ready for bed. His dark figure behind a tree as he watched you; the scent of you filling his lungs where air couldn’t. The scent of your blood…of other things he could smell more now that he was this.

And he’d be reminded why he couldn’t show himself. Why he couldn’t allow you to wrap your arms around him, embrace him, love him again because he’d hurt you.

Not intentionally. No never intentionally.

That monster inside of him that craved the copper drip from one’s flesh would have its teeth in your neck within seconds. He’d be draining you of your sweet blood, your delicious taste sedating him while your eyes grew more lifeless with each savory swallow.

He’d kill you.

You’d be dead like him, except there would be no coming back for you.

So he couldn’t get close. Ever.

He was dead to you and he had to stay that way. For your own good. Even if it made him want to wipe out an entire town with the anguish it caused. He would do anything to protect you, from himself, from others—from Henry.

But he failed.

The heavy smash of the blondes back against the wall has a man sized hole cracking into the drywall. The pictures on the wall shattering at their feet. A pretentious laugh slipping into the cracks of Eddie’s rage.

“Why?”

“I figured you were sick of watching her. It was getting a little…depressing.”

“I told you! I told you. Not her!”

“I know,” Henry makes a pitying face. Moves a strand of Eddie’s hair out of his line of sight, cold palm lingering at the apple of his cheek. “It broke my heart to watch how sad you were. We don’t sulk.”

“Bullshit.” It had been two years since Eddie was like this. Two years of living alongside Henry—the one who had changed him. Turned him into the same deadly beast that he was.

He had asked him once. While they sat in the obnoxious mansion Henry called home; they called home.

“Beauty shouldn’t be wasted on human life. Neither should the hatred I saw in your soul.” Henry had looped his finger around one of his curls, a look of amusement and fondness in his eyes. Eyes that Eddie remembers looking into as he pressed his wrist to his lips and told him to drink. Stealing away his life; a life that was nothing to write home about, but it had you in it.

And Henry took that away from him.

“You could always change her. If you miss her that badly.” Henry had told him one night after Eddie came home just before dawn. By now he knew where he was going every night. If he wasn’t walking the streets beside him hunting, he was watching you. “Might be nice to have another to play with.” The smirk that met Eddie’s scowl was sickening.

He didn’t trust Henry. Anyone who could kill so effortlessly and freely as he did, who could rip the throat of the lover in bed at the same time he gave them pleasure was not someone who deserved trust.

He should have known that this would happen. He should have left Henry’s side a long time ago. Freed himself of the torment, from the psychopath.

But maybe he had become a masochist. Maybe that’s what helped with his anger-filled-loneliness; Henry.

His cruel ways. His beautiful smile. His mouth. His tongue.

Eddie would be lying to himself if he said that the thought of turning you, having you by his side forever didn’t cross his mind. But your sweet smile, full of life and joy, the kindness that he remembers always being in your eyes, set him straight. Reminded him that you were not like him. Or Henry.

You were good and they were fucked.

Depraved beasts.

Bloodthirsty monsters.

You didn’t deserve a life like this.

He can hear how weak your lungs are. Can sense those last breaths hanging on, waiting to see if your organs are going to help, going to save you from eternal darkness.

“Times running out.” Henry reminds the obvious, his tone filled with that berating amusement Eddie wishes he wasn’t used to. He can smell the sweetness of your blood still lathered on his tongue as Henry leans closer to him, the fist around his neck doing little to deter him, to actually hurt him. His lips are inches from his, “don’t you want to taste her? Don’t you want to save her? She needs you Eddie.” The tips of his nails scrape against the side of his neck as Henry tries his best to be affectionate, to hit him where it counts—where he holds a sliver of that humanity still. That softness he never lost.

Henry knew how to use it against him in all the right, and wrong, ways.

“What’s done is done. Save her or let her die. Your choice, but we both know you needed me to do this.”

“No.” Eddie scowls at him, the urge to press his teeth into the blonde's neck and rip out a chunk making his fangs buzz.

“You’d never have the strength to do it yourself. To turn her the way you wanted. I can feel how badly you want it. Take it. Take her. Make her ours.” Henry smirks, “or should we drain her dry? Have you really grown so fond of me that you don’t need her anymore? I’m touched,” when he leans centimeters closer to press his lips to Eddie’s in a mocking kiss it has an animalistic noise coming from his throat as that boiling rage has him pushing Henry—enough to break the chest cavity of a human but only enough to have the blonde going the rest of the way through the wall, unharmed.

“Good boy.” Henry says happily through the rubble as Eddie disregards him completely, moving back to your side.

His freezing fingers run along your cheek, soak in the last bits of warmth that he can feel quickly slipping from your body. Your body that’s almost lifeless. That’s so very close to becoming unresponsive and gone forever. Floating on that plain of darkness that only exists after death. Alone. You’ll both be alone.

But, this way, you’ll finally be with him.

Fuck Henry.

But he can’t let you die. Not like this.

Even inches from death you look so pretty. Even as Eddie bites into his own wrist and holds it to your lips, letting his blood drip into your mouth; one drop, two, three, four, then your throat his moving. Swallowing him down. Taking the poison of a monster to save your own life.

“Good girl,” Eddie whispers. Hates that he smiles. Hates that he feels a fluttering of something he hasn’t in what feels like centuries when he see’s the blood taking. The poison mixing with the venom of Henry’s teeth and tongue—you’d be his again.

Finally.

That insatiable thirst you remember, the one that scorched the back of your throat had grown since that night; to something worse than hunger. Than desire.

It was a sickening need that would leave you doubling over, a growl of pain and demand for the bittersweetness of what used to flow through your veins. For what you now needed to drink to survive. To kill for to live.

You couldn’t say you were happy to have ended up like this. To have become something that people wrote about in books and teenage girls went gaga over—if only they knew how torturing-ly dark and immoral it was to be such a thing. To live a life of not being alive but not fully dead, somewhere in between forever.

Until you dried up from thirst or someone stuck a steak through your heart.

You weren’t ungrateful for Eddie’s choice. Could never hate him for it for doing what he had to do, for bringing the two of you back together.

At first you had been more than grateful. Had spent every waking moment in his arms, the idea of spending centuries at his side seemed like an easy trade off for breathing and a pumping heart.

But then the thirst came. The pain. The blood you had to spill to live out those centuries with Eddie.

The anger and distance followed.

The more you killed the less the idea of Eddie turning you into this became a saving grace—now seen to you as a curse he passed onto you.

Henry was at fault with all of this. He was the one who got the brunt of your anger.

Eddie acted with the humanity that was still in his dead heart.

Henry was acting on jealousy and pettiness.

Both had put you in a numbness rage that blossomed into something dark and gritty and terrifying in the eyes of your lover.

A year had gone by without you and Eddie so much as being close let alone occupying each other’s beds, arms, bodies.

He resented you for turning into the monster he created and you resented him for aiding your turn into that monster.

When Henry demanded the three of you sit and drink together, the expensive china he had swiped from a family of victims filled to the brim with blood drained from only the finest of veins, in each of your hands as you sat in silence—the record playing in the background the only noise in the room.

And where you could see it tearing Eddie up inside, could feel the pull, the push, the tug, in your unbeating heart to reach out for him, for him to do the same—you ignored it, but he let it solidify in stolen glances and silence that came from his parted lips each time he attempted to find the right words but came up short.

Henry was eating it up. Loving it. The tapping of his nail on the china as he smirked at the both of you, as he tried to get under your skin with jabs and teasing words; and tried to anger Eddie with picks and pokes about how gruesome your kills had been when you went out.

“She looks so good covered in blood.” His eyes giving your body a once over, “makes me wish I hit a vein when I sank my teeth in her. Cover her in her own sweetness and licked it up.”

And while you hated Henry, despised him, and the lack of heat in your body made it hard to warm at words or blush; it did not stop the burn that happened between your legs each time he gave you that look, or cornered you in the hall and let his teeth scrape against your neck until you pushed him away, or how each time he accompanied you on a kill and blood trickled down his chin you found yourself wanting to lean over and lick it off of him.

It was hard to tell if Henry wanted to fuck you to spite Eddie or because he actually wanted you.

Sadly both turned you on.

Eddie had been the only boy you had been with and even after your untimely death he was still the only one.

Nights when you laid in the bed you could never use for sleeping, you thought of him, of letting this bitterness and rage slip and crawl into his bed—to feel his lips once again on yours, his touch, his tongue between your thighs.

But then you’d remember the look he’d given you when you’d come home one night covered in blood, darkness in your eyes, hair and skin from your helpless victims still under your finger nails; the look that let you know he had regretted changing you, bringing you back together, the look you’d give to a monster.

“Don’t be so squeamish, Eddie.” Henry had said as he leaned against the banister smirking down at the two of you. Chuckling as Eddie retreated down the hall, a door slamming behind him.

That had been the figurative nail in the coffin that pushed that distance even further to the point of silent aching.

And no matter how much you ached and hurt, rage and all: Eddie still had your heart. You’d never wish to betray him.

No matter how enticing Henry made it.

Even with your back pressed against the dirty wallpaper right now, his hands on either side of your head, lips so so close to yours.

“I know you're lonely,” a pause, a smirk, “and wet. I can smell it.” His knee slots itself between your thighs, the fabric of his pants hitting your covered cunt as the top of his thigh pushes up the bottom of your dress, making you swallow down a pathetic noise.

“You’re sickening.” You sneer, giving him a scowl.

“Why do you care what he thinks? Has he told you that he used to be in my bed every night before you came along.”

His words are meant to sting and they do. They hit exactly where he had them aimed and it has that rage simmering in your decaying chest cavity.

“Fuck off, Henry!”

He chuckles, “there’s that rage.” His lips are inches from yours now, a hand sliding down the wall to press a thumb at the corner of your mouth. “Fuck, I love it. Eddie’s so disturbingly sweet, just as he tastes. But you,” his hand trails down your chin to the column of your neck, his fingers wrapping around it. “You’re just as fucked up as me.”

“No,” you shake your head. Feel the added pressure he puts on your throat. Try not to let it affect you, try to focus on the rage, on anything other than the throbbing that’s burning your cold flesh. “I’m nothing like you.”

You choke on air when his grip grows tight enough to have your fingers move to his hand and try to pry them off. “It’s not an insult, don’t be rude. I made you. I can end you.” His forehead is on yours, nose to nose, lips brushing yours as he speaks. Other hand falling between your legs to run his nails up your thigh, “but it’d be a waste when all three of us could be do something so much more fun.”

And when his lips press to yours, his grip on your neck loosening, your fist is balled to push him away, but then you’re doing the opposite; leaning into him, kissing him back. Feeling that rage morph into that same need you get when you’re hungry—the need for flesh, to sink your teeth into something, to feel something.

“Care to join us, Eddie?” He’s saying when he pulls away. That hunger in you makes something inside of you plummet when you look behind him and meet Eddie’s eyes.

You expect an excuse to come. For the forgiveness and begging to come but it doesn’t.

Maybe it’s from the lack of rage in Eddie’s eyes and the understanding and lust that fills them instead.

Maybe it’s how an entirely new hunger is building inside of you.

Whatever it is has you opening your mouth and saying, “please.”

Henry turning back to look at him, giving him the softest smile you think he could ever fake, as he says, “remind us what it’s like to be sweet.”

#eddie munson x reader #henry creel x reader #vampire!eddie munson #eddie munson x you #vampire!eddie #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson one shot #henry creel x you #peter ballard x reader #001 x reader #001 x you #stranger things x reader

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elodieballard · 2 years

Text

because you love her.

jace wayland x fem reader

summary: basically u have no clue how ur love life with jace is going

warnings: clueless clary, lashing out, a little bit of obsession??? jace is a little bit of an idiot (not rude, just ignorant) super off plot of tmi with like one scene you’d know, dorothea is like COMPLETELY ooc (out of character) ooc hodge, slightly ooc clary

i know it sounds boring but i’m just lazy to put anything so lol

also pls excuse the terrible pov pronouns im trying to use second person instead of first for this fic so yeah

AND my only knowledge of tmi is the movie so be kind 🤗🤗

you turn another page in your book, daydreaming as your eyes stare at the words on the pages.

jace. jace, jace, jace, jace.

it was all jace, the only thing that clouded your mind. you found it hard to tear yourself away from the thought of him when you imagined what his lips would feel like. would taste like.

it’s been some time now, the amount of time you’ve been in love with jace. i mean, how couldn’t you? he is an angel—and lord you hate to remember how that was actually literal—but he’s kind behind all of his sarcasm.

he’s really attractive. hot. handsome. pretty, even.

scratch that, he’s more than pretty. he is gorgeous.

when you think about rain, you think about jace. you’ve always loved rain, so the two correlate.

reading, too. reading is always a fun and calming thing to do, even if you’re teased for it.

it’s not very common for shadowhunters or demon hunters to be so soft, at least that’s what jace thought.

until he met you. he likes your softness. he liked a little too much, even. he likes that you don’t wear an overly amount of makeup like izzy does.

he likes that you’re comfortable with your own beauty. sure, he knows you aren’t confident, which he doesn’t understand.

he loved all of things before clary came. to you, he was okay with those things. he didn’t care about the reading or the makeup, that’s why he didn’t tease you for it.

but when clary came, things changed. you noticed jace didn’t care much to defend you against alec’s smart comments about reading, and he didn’t even protest when izzy suggested giving you a makeover when it was time to go to magnus’ party.

yesterday, you blinked harshly as izzy’s hair curler left a section in your hair. you were deep in thought as izzy styles your hair, smiling as she brushed some hair out of your face.

“what’s gotten you so worked up?” she said in a tone one talks in after laughing. anyone else would suppose she was being sarcastic, teasing you, even. clary probably would. but you knew izzy for your entire life to know how to read in between the lines.

“i just wish i wasn’t here.” you mumbled, looking to the side.

“with me?” she scrunched your hair a little bit, giving it volume.

“no, i’d love to be in here talking to you about the party and if there would be any cute boys there or even the fucking escape route we’ll have to use once we crash the whole thing.” your voice was getting louder by the moment and izzy knew something was up.

“if you’re worried about miss googly eyed carrie or whatever her name is, i assure you she’ll only be here for a little bit.”

“i’m worried about her, yeah, but not in the way you assume i am.” you mumbled.

“i don’t know why you’d be worried, she’s not going to take your spot in hodge’s eyes.”

as izzy reached for the brush, you crack a smile. you were always hodge’s favorite, so, no, you’d never be worried about it.

“what do you mean ‘googly eyed’?” you asked curiously, pinching yourself in the wrist as you asked the question in regret.

“you didn’t see it? she’s like, totally in love with jace,” izzy smiled and grabbed the curler.

your heart drops to your feet.

“jace seems to like her, too. he’s worried about her all the time, he’s the one who brought her here… it’s love at first sight if you ask me. dontcha think?”

you swallowed. you wanted to cover your ears and scream until izzy shut up, but you couldn’t. “yeah, i do.” you tried to hide the shakiness in your voice.

“they’d be cute together. especially with the height difference. i don’t know if you got a good look at her, but she’s your height. short-”

you tried not to roll your eyes.

izzy sighed before continuing. “and it’s a power couple. she seems innocent. not much like a badass. but we both know jace, on the other hand.”

you forced a laugh. “yeah.”

“now that i think about it, you and clary are similar. really similar, actually. you guys would get along.”

you bit your lip. in this moment, you wanted to tell izzy all about your love for jace, but it wasn’t worth it. there was no point. you swallowed. “maybe, yeah.”

izzy finished with your hair and moved on to makeup. later, you found yourself wearing an extremely short dress and thigh high boots. you had to walk to the party and you walked alongside jace, it was the one time he wasn’t all over clary that day and you just wanted to hear his laugh and to laugh at his jokes.

but now, today, the pages of your favorite book tickles at your fingertips as you stare at the worlds sputtered along them, your brain not registering a simple thing.

“that book must not be very interesting.” you hear from behind you, scaring you out of your daydream.

“jace!” you exclaim.

“really? is that me?” he jokes sarcastically.

you giggle and playfully slap him in the shoulder. “shut up.”

“what book is it?”

“never mind the book, what are you doing in here?”

the blonde lets out a breath, flopping onto your bed. “boredddd.”

you’re taken aback at this. calmly as you can, you say your response carefully so it’s not sarcastic. “where’s clary?”

“what does clary have to do with my boredom?”

you almost laugh at this. “nothing, you’ve just been all over her yesterday and this morning, i thought you guys would be in a closet making out or something.”

jace’s expression drops as he feels his heart stop. his breath hitched. “why are you being like that?”

you close your book. “like what?”

“look, just because i have a heart-”

you immediately lunge forward and feel his chest area where his heart is. you try to pretend that it isn’t beating crazily fast at the distance between the two of your faces.

“not there.”

jace can’t hide his laugh. “yeah, okay. well, just because i have a heart and want to help someone out, doesn’t mean i’m in love with them! and anyway, why is it such a big deal if i were in love with her?”

“is that you admitting that you do?”

“no! answer my fucking question!” he demands.

you swallow, feeling defeated. “it’s not that. she’s taking up all of your time and i literally don’t get to see you anymore.”

you walk to your bookshelf and put your book in. keeping your cool was getting harder and harder by the moment.

“well i’m offering now?” he says, but it sounds like he’s questioning it.

“and then? what about tomorrow?” you put your hair behind your ear, reaching for a gold ring.

“what’s that?” jace gets off of your bed and points to the ring.

“remember when we were kids and you gave me a promise ring that one day we’d get married?” your voice cracks as you place the ring on your finger. “it was sweet at first, but…”

as you pull the ring off your finger, jace is quick to push it back on.

you feel the heat in your cheeks rising, going crazy. you swallow and look into his eyes.

he sighs, removing his hands from yours. “get ready, we’ll leave in a bit. and if you’re so obsessed with clary, i’ll ask her to come. you guys will get along.”

he walks out of the room leaving you blushing and confused.

~ clary is all over you, she thinks you’re the coolest person to ever exist.

“your hair looks really pretty, too.” she says, brushing her fingers through it.

“thanks, izzy curled it last night.” you try to hide the annoyance in your voice.

the cab car was extremely hot. the driver had a passenger in the front seat, so the three of you—jace, clary, you— had undid your appearance runes and you were basically hitch hiking without the driver or the passenger knowing.

jace to the left of you and clary to the right.

if you were being honest, you didn’t want to be sitting next to him after what happened earlier. was he trying to say that he still wanted to marry you after all the years?

“oh, please, stop fighting over me, girls!” jace jokes sarcastically. clary cracks up, but for once, you don’t laugh at his joke. he notices this and raises an eyebrow.

“so, clary, where’s your mundane friend?” you ask curiously, starting to think you were wrong about her at first.

“oh, he’s with izzy. she said she’ll take care of him while we go out.” clary looks out the window, admiring the city.

“right.” you turn to your left to find that jace was already staring at you, his gaze low at the hem of your dress.

you’d be lying if you said that you didn’t like the way you looked and felt in the dress and makeup you wore yesterday. you decided that before you headed back to the institute, you and izzy could go shopping. you found a ton of short dresses you bought without even trying on, of course.

“what’s up?” you say, staring at jace, his eyes dancing along the hem.

he shoot’s his head up, caught in the act. you smile to yourself. “you’re wearing makeup, aren’t you?”

you bite back a grin. “izzy gave me a bit, she said it looked pretty on me.”

jace doesn’t seem amused. “i think you look better without it.”

you don’t know if that’s a compliment, but you find yourself with a stupid grin plastered on your face as you watch the scenery outside of clary’s window.

“where are we going, by the way?” clary whispers.

“shit.” jace gasps as he grabs your hand, making you instinctively grab clary’s. he opens the door on his side and the driver stops the car, going to see why the door opened and you start running.

you and clary are cracking up at how concentrated jace is as he turns the corner.

“where are we going?!?” you repeat clary’s question from earlier as you start going down a hill.

“hodge used to take us there,” he turns to face you, who has no clue where he plans on going. you raise an eyebrow with crossed arms. “don’t start with the ‘oh, he used to take us everywhere!’ shit, we went a few times every week.”

you smile. you never realized how much of a father hodge acted as, your parents had died in a battle against vampires, and jace’s parents— no one really knew much about.

“i don’t know!” you squeal.

jace squeezes your hand a little tighter and angrily pushes past a crowd of people who jump at the feeling of being pushed but nothing to be pushed by. after blushing over this, you turn to clary who shrugs at jace’s random anger.

“are we going to see dorothea?” you gasp when you realize and jace giggles.

“dorothea?” clary asks, a little alarmed. “that’s my neighbor!”

“you live next to dorothea?” jace asks after turning around to face clary.

you see tension. you can practically feel it. it makes you sick to your stomach. clary’s going to take this moment to bond with jace, when you and him have been coming here since you were little.

“s-she’s— yes.” clary struggles, looking down at her feet.

“she’s yes?” jace laughs at her own joke. you force a laugh to get out of the rearview.

“i knew i recognized this street,” clary whispers to you as you turn the corner.

“okay.” you don’t even want to talk to her anymore. sure, it wasn’t her fault that she lives next to dorothea, but it was almost completely obvious she got nervous when jace got a little too close to her. you clear your throat. “jace, we’re here.”

jace was staring at the ground and he picks his head up without saying anything and turns back to you and clary.

“have you got a key?” he asks clary.

clary is still bright red as she nods, but she puts her hand under the mat on the porch and puts it through the keyhole.

“after you.” jace smiles brightly as he opens the door for you and clary.

you go in before her, jace takes notice to how you cut her off to get in front.

once the three of you are inside, you start to look around. it’s like a regular apartment building, budget was probably sixty thousand on the minimum interior decorating.

jace walks over to the first door on the first floor and knocks.

“shoo, put my mail at the door of my door!” you hear from inside. you look at jace and smile, who smiles back. this gives you major butterflies.

jace knocks again.

“disobeying bastards!” you hear dorothea yell from inside before the door opens and you get a clear view of her. she didn’t age, she was already really old. she looked the same.

“oh my lord!” she exclaims before extending her arms to jace and pulling him in a hug. jace doesn’t really appreciate physical touch that isn’t formed by him, but he accepts it because it’s dorothea. “jace, boy, you’ve gotten so big!”

she turns to you and extends her arms. “and hello, y/n… you’re still small and fragile…”

she chuckles to herself, but you can’t help but feel a little offended.

jace knows how you feel about this, so he rubs your back comfortingly.

“and clary…” she looks at her unamused and then opens the door completely so you all can walk in.

her place has remained the same over the years. not a single book, even, has moved.

you linger closer to jace as you tour her one-bedroom which seems to make him uncomfortable. like you’re following him.

dorothea smiles as she takes a seat at her table. “jace, y/n, come sit.”

you and jace look at each other. then you follow him to the table she’s sitting at as clary explores the room.

“oh, i can’t believe how long it’s been…” she says, looking teary eyed.

“twelve years.” you say, trying not to make it obvious you’re uncomfortable. the situation is awkward.

dorothea stares at you blankly. “you look so beautiful, dear.”

“uh, thanks… izzy let me borrow some makeup.”

if you were being honest, jace looked pissed. it was stupid he thought he could control how you lived.

“she still looks beautiful without it.” he says, facing dorothea. he doesn’t even shoot a second glance towards you.

your cheeks grow red rapidly, and you try not to smile. “thanks.”

jace crosses his arms.

dorothea smiles wildly at the two of you. “you two still plan on getting married? you’re together, right?”

you and jace look at each other and clary stops. she wants to see what he says.

then jace’s gaze moves to your ring and you feel like you’re about to explode.

jace then turns to dorothea. “maybe. i don’t know.”

you look to the side and jace doesn’t shoot a second glance to you.

is that why he gave you the ring? he still wants to marry you? like he did as a little boy?

“that’s wonderful, your babies would be beautiful you know?” dorothea clasps her hands and stands up. “well unfortunately you came at a bad time. i was just getting ready for bed, but don’t let that stop you. feel free to loiter, i suppose. i really did miss you children. and it was nice to see you, clary.”

she really doesn’t care about clary though, which makes you feel happy for some reason. like you won.

“y/n, you sure you don’t want to go home and go to bed?” jace asks with a smirk.

“shut up, jace. you never used to tease me about that. you always defended me for it.” you don’t know why you said it, but once it was out of your mouth, you felt you spoke the truth. you just wish it wasn’t in front of dorothea.

“i’m just joking,” jace laughs and clary is cracking up from beside you.

you have to finish what you started. “joking? but isn’t that what alec and izzy did? hell, even magnus!”

dorothea realized she wasn’t welcome in this argument and had made her way to the other room for bed. you shoot a glance at jace that says ‘bring this outside’ but not in a friendly manner.

jace grabs your hand and rushes you outside, leaving clary standing there, confused.

“you NEED to stop, okay?” jace spits, holding you by the shoulders.

“i’m sorry, are you angry i’m finally standing up to you and your obsession with clary?” as you said this, you kept getting up in his face. this didn’t please him in the slightest. he didn’t want to want to kiss you ask you SCREAMED at him.

“stand up for yourself some other fucking time! right now, we just came to see dorothea— i just BROUGHT you to see dorothea and you’re being an ungrateful fucking brat, you know that?”

you shouldn’t. you shouldn’t be blushing at his words. they’re not coming out in the sense you would blush at them, so why are you?

“jace..” you feel every wall within you fall. every hope and dream is shattered. “i’m done waiting for you.”

“waiting for me? waiting for me to do what?” his tone immediately dropped asks he felt his heart shatter.

your gaze is followed by jace’s when you look down at your hand and slowly slip the promise ring off of your finger. “i’m done waiting.”

you try to walk away, so he doesn’t see you cry, but he grabs you. he pulls you back in front of him and immediately attaches his lips to yours. you melt into the kiss as soon as he does it, your hands going around his neck while his travel to your waist. it was perfect. this was perfect.

after a good long moment, you come up for air, the first to pull away. you entangle your fingers in his hair and push your forehead onto his. “jace… you can’t.”

another part in jace shatters, but he doesn’t know what it is. “i can’t? i can’t what?”

you can’t help but look at his lips. pink already, and you’d only kissed for a good twenty seconds. you wonder if yours are like that. “we can’t do this. us.”

“what? why not?”

“because you love her.” you look towards the house, to dorothea’s room where clary was watching you through the window.

he chuckles and kisses you on the lips again, this time for longer. when he pulls away, he cups your face with his hand. “just you. only you. always you.”

which makes your heart explode. that was something you said to each other all the time as kids, and you can’t believe he remembered it.

“i’ve always loved you, y/n. did you think my promise ring was some kind of joke?”

#jace wayland #jace has too many last names #jamie bower x you #jamie campbell bower #jamie campbell bower x you #peter ballard #peter ballard fluff #001 stranger things #001 x reader #001 x y/n #001 x you #henry creel #jace herondale x reader #jace herondale #jamie bower #jace wayland x reader #jace wayland x y/n #jace herondale x y/n

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kaylawritesfics · 2 years

Note

Platonic 001 head cannons where reader is one of the test subjects in the Hawkins Lab, and 001 takes them under his wing? Reader clings to him seeing him as a dad or big brother figure

Peter Ballard As A Brother Figure

headcanons

summary: what peter is like as a brother figure

pairing: peter ballard x reader (platonic)

warnings: mentions of canon typical violence, mentions of torture

note: i love this man

Peter is so supportive !! He’s always there, secretly cheering you on and wishing you luck before every lesson.

He thinks the world of you. You probably remind him of himself and he has a strong urge to protect you.

He really tries to help you however he can. Whether it’s by helping you with an activity in the rainbow room or reminding you to stay calm and focused.

He’s always so proud of you when you do well with a lesson or activity, giving you a proud smile and a discreet pat on the back as you walk by.

He would never, ever let anyone hurt you. He teaches you little ways to protect yourself against the other children.

The first time you hugged him, he was a little confused and shocked, awkwardly patting your head or back.

He would give you little gifts whenever he notices you’re feeling down or whenever you’ve been doing particularly well. He especially likes to pick flowers from the yard, tucking them neatly into the pocket of his shirt, passing them off to you later that day.

He always reminds you to take a break and breath. He knows what being overworked can do to you and he would never want you to experience the things he did as a child.

He often gets punished and tortured for his close relationship with you, but he never regrets it. He’d take a thousand electric shocks if it meant he could help you.

He would definitely help you get out, arranging an escape plan that helps the both of you.

He has incredible patience. Nothing really deters him and he never really gets angry with you.

He’s the sweetest !! He’ll always praise you for doing a good job, even if your performance was subpar that particular day.

He would quite literally kill anyone who tried to hurt you.

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petersprincesss · 2 years

Text

You’re in Trouble Now

Hi again!

This was requested by @marniscoffee on my one-shots of Peter Ballard post. You can find it and make a request here.

I will be responding to all requests and should have them up sometime this week, I will tag you in yours!

I thought someone else requested this exact number and genre as well, so if that was you and I have forgotten to tag you, please forgive me, I couldn’t find it anywhere!

OKAY!

Genre: smut

Rating: R? ig? Explicit? It’s smut, okay?

Tags: dom/sub, dom Peter Ballard, choking, edging, orgasm denial/delay, general kinky shit idk

Smut Below the Cut!

“Is this a game to you, Y/N?” Dr. Brenner quizzed you, bringing his eyes down to your level, your noses less than an inch from touching.

You were seated in a metal chair inside one of the children’s training rooms being scolded by Dr. Brenner for not following his endlessly strict protocol. A single tear slipped from your eye and cascaded down your cheek, your bottom lip curling into an unsettled frown.

“No, sir,” you winced. You were sorry, but only that you had been caught. You didn’t understand why he was so uptight about every miniscule detail.

You heard a click, followed by the creak of the door opening behind you. Peter stepped through the entrance and to the side, careful not to interrupt your interrogation. Your cheeks grew hot as you thought about the idea of him watching you be punished. Your eyes drifted over your shoulder in attempts to find his, but Dr. Brenner grabbed your chin and restricted you to looking only at him.

“I don’t want to hear about anything like this happening ever again, do you understand me?” He spat.

“Yes sir,” you replied submissively.

“Good,” he remarked, letting go of your chin and rising to his full height, “I’ve asked Peter to keep a close eye on you for the time being. We can’t handle any little slip ups, so I want you to rely on his discipline to keep you in check. I advise that you do whatever he recommends without question.”

The air in your lungs was practically sucked out of you. Dr. Brenner had to have known how you pined for Peter. He had to have seen the way you looked into Peter’s cerulean eyes, the way your irises flickered whenever Peter entered a room, or how your chest heaved by merely being close to him. Dr. Brenner had to have known that this was the perfect punishment for you specifically.

“I will, sir,” you promised. Your heartbeat began to crowd the inside of your chest as if it was going to expel itself from behind your ribs.

Dr. Brenner opened the door to exit, remarking to Peter as he passed, “I leave her in your hands now.”

With that, the two of you were now alone. You were finally able to turn around to look at your new overseer, and his apathetic stare did not provide any comfort. Something about his hardened, domineering stance caused your stomach to flutter, your body quivering from more than just your pathetic sobs.

“What did you do?” Peter asked, his tone detached and distant.

“I just- I gave one of the kids-” you began, but your breath hitched under your tears, your dismay of your interaction with your boss weighing too heavily over you.

“Spit it out,” Peter ordered, stepping behind the seat you were perched on, placing his hands on either side of the back of the chair.

“I gave number four a piece of candy,” you sniveled, wiping a tear from your cheek with the sleeve of your cardigan.

“I see. And why don’t we do that?”

“Because only Dr. Brenner is allowed to reward the children.”

“That’s right. You know better,” Peter commended you with a patronizing tone.

“I just felt bad for him because he-” you started to speak, but you were cut off by Peter snatching a fistfull of your hair and yanking it backwards. You closed your eyes in shock, knowing that as soon as you opened them, his sapphire irises would be boring into yours.

“You know the rules. We obey them no matter what.”

“Yes sir,” you responded instinctively.

Peter let out a scoff from behind you and released your hair, allowing your head to bow back forward.

“You know,” he spoke, gliding effortlessly around in front of you, his hands clasped behind his back, “I kind of like hearing you call me sir.”

Your gaze shot up to meet him as he circled to a stop. He was not the sweet and caring orderly you had been working with all this time any longer. He was now your possessor, and the heat growing between your legs confirmed that you wanted nothing more. You craved nothing more than for him to do exactly as he pleased with you.

“That’s how I want you to refer to me from now on. No matter where we are, no matter who can hear you, that’s who I am to you now. Understood?”

“Yes sir.”

“Good. Are you going to be good for me while you’re under my command?” Peter inquired. Although he spoke so matter-of-factly, you felt that he was genuinely asking you, and you knew your response would determine how he would treat you whenever the two of you engaged with one another.

“Yes, sir, I am,” you responded. You felt as though “yes sir” and “no sir” were beginning to make up your entire vocabulary. Under Peter’s control, you didn’t care. You didn’t need any other words.

“That’s my girl. Do you know what good girls get?”

Your fingers kneaded together anxiously, your mind racing with possibilities, lustful desires of what you wanted to get for being Peter’s good girl.

“No sir. Please tell me what good girls get.”

Peter chuckled arrogantly, “I don’t want to tell you. I want to show you. Stand up.”

You obeyed him without question, rising to your feet. The crown of your head lined up perfectly beneath his nose. Turning your face up to him, you felt his heated breath ease down your cheeks.

Peter didn’t waste a costly second putting his palms on your shoulders, guiding you around the chair and backwards against the door he entered from moments earlier. Holding you there firmly, Peter bit his bottom lip, surveying his prized possession. You felt your ribcage expand and compress at a rate that nearly caused concern, but your mind couldn’t stray from the filthy appetite you had worked up.

“If you’re going to be a good girl,” Peter whispered, his lips grazing against your earlobe, “you’re going to have to be very quiet.”

You stifled a moan, biting into your lip with such a force you nearly drew blood. Your eyes rolled back into your head as you nodded, the back of your skull rubbing against the dull, off-white door behind you.

Peter’s hand left your shoulder and trailed down to your knees, his fingertips slowly pulling up the hem of your white skirt. His palm rested flat atop your thigh before it snaked upward, pushing your uniform up and exposing you. He was ready to hook his fingers around your undergarments when he discovered that you weren’t wearing any.

“Y/N?” He said, his touch suddenly frozen. Your stomach dropped, knowing he had discovered your risqué secret.

“Y-yes?” You responded, squeezing your eyes shut tight, an erotic shame piling inside you.

“Are you not wearing any panties?”

“No, sir.”

Peter flashed a naughty grin at you. He knew you wanted to play his game, but he was surprised to discover that you might have been dirtier than he was.

“Such a little slut,” he breathed, struggling to contain his excitement.

Peter brought one hand up to your neck and applied pressure just firmly enough on either side of your neck that your heartbeat thumped in your brain. With his free hand, he reached down and slid his zipper open, removing himself from his pleated white trousers. You smiled at him feverishly, too aroused to play his game of cat and mouse. His hold on your neck shifted as he brought his thumb up to meet your bottom lip, pulling it down slightly.

“Are you ready for me, Y/N?”

“Yes, sir. Please,” you begged.

“Good,” he declared. His hand moved from himself to the back of your thigh, raising it upward so that your skirt rose over your hip bones and allowed him access to your center.

Peter dove into you swiftly, bottoming out on his first thrust. Your spine arched back and your mouth fell agape, ready to release an agonizingly pleasured moan, but you remembered Peter’s demand that you stay silent. You swallowed your expression, releasing a wave of goosebumps down your arms to your fingertips. Peter was larger than you had expected, and your body nearly buckled under his form. Your palm grasped onto his shoulder desperately, your nails digging into his skin.

“Fuck, Y/N” Peter grunted, fighting to keep his composure. Hearing your name leave his lips in such a trance nearly sent you over the edge, and he hadn’t even been inside you for a full minute yet. Your foot lifted, heightening you to resting on the tips of your toes. Peter’s clutch on your opposite leg tensed, pulling you further up onto him. He pushed into you with such intensity, never permitting either of you to question exactly where his priorities lay.

Feeling your tireless efforts to keep yourself open for him, Peter released his grip on your neck and tugged your still-standing leg upwards so that you were now wholly supported by his strength and the pressure of the door pushing against your back. Your ankles crossed behind his back, your heels prodding him like a horse, sheepishly demanding that he keep his pace.

Although not outwardly moaning, your heavy breaths were far from quiet, and the gentle gaps between them provided just enough silence for Peter to hear a pair of footsteps approaching on the opposite side of the door. Peter clasped his hand over your mouth, hurriedly muffling your aching breaths and dropping your leg back to the floor.

“Not a fucking peep, you understand me?” Peter directed. A vein in his forehead made itself visible between his once compassionate brows.

You nodded in response, your eyes widening before rolling back into your head, feverishly flickering your vision. The footsteps grew and receded briskly. The passer-by may not have heard your sensual groans, but it would be hard for anyone to ignore the rattling of the door that Peter hastily pounded you into. Once he was certain the presence was gone, Peter released your lips and you gulped for air salaciously. His mouth dove for your neck, nibbling skillfully at your pulse. With his mouth in such close proximity to your ear, his greedy huffs ringing through your brain.

“Sir, I’m going to-”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Peter threatened before biting into your neck.

“Y- yes, si-”

“You better fucking ask for permission before you do.”

You could feel Peter straining inside you. The mere mention of you reaching climax only edged him further to his own.

“Please, sir, please! I need to cum.”

“I know you do, baby. Cum with me. Now.”

Peter’s empty hand clamped around your ribcage before skimming up your chest, kneading your rounded flesh. Between the building pressure in your abdomen, his eager consumption of your pulse and the iron tight grasp on your chest, you slipped briskly over the edge without question.

“God, fucking-” you seethed between your teeth, your chest convexing up towards the ceiling.

Peter made no attempts to conceal his satisfaction, primal, guttural moans flowing from him without hesitation.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N” he panted as he slowed, his hips jerking at random, uncontrolled intervals.

You reached up and tenderly cupped his face in your hand, your fingertips traveling up towards his sweat-drenched forehead. His climax reaching an end, Peter planted a dainty kiss on the tip of your nose. Nothing mattered in this moment except for the blonde orderly before you, still caressing your tired figure.

“You know, you should piss off Dr. Brenner more often,” he smirked. You couldn’t help but smile back, drunk on his effortless eroticism.

“I just might have to now.”

#peter ballard #peter ballard x reader #peter ballard x y/n #peter ballard x you #peter ballard smut #001 #001 x you #001 x reader #001 x y/n #001 smut #henry creel #henry creel x reader #henry creel x you #vecna #stranger things #jamie bower #jamie campbell bower #fics #my work

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libid1ne · 2 years

Text

someone to watch over.

peter ballard/henry creel/001 x reader

✰summary: henry has a crush on you, his only companion and his true love. and you have a crush on henry, your bestest friend in the whole world. despite this, you’re to scared to tell him and he’s too worried to tell you and so you two act like your hearts aren’t fluttering.

no warnings!! just cute fluff :)

enjoy!

henry couldn't compare you to anything, you were simply the best. his only companion, besides the spiders he had found in the vent, and the only human in the world he'd ever truly need.

the feeling inside his chest, the one you always gave him when you smiled or squeezed his hand or pulled him into a hug. now, he could compare that to something. it felt like fireworks, and cotton candy, and dancing to the beat of the rain. it felt comforting, like the songs his parents would play and he imagined it would last forever.

that you two would be married, and one day you'd open your eyes. see the world how he had always, and finally you two would conquer the universe together. hand in hand, a shiny ring on your finger and the multiverse at your fingertips.

henry wanted the best for you, and wanted all your wishes to come true. he'd do anything for you, and he dreamed of marrying you every single day. even now, as he stared at you from the back of the math classroom.

he liked it because he could ogle at you from a far, no worry about being caught. the embarrassed blush that would dust his cheeks whenever you realized he was looking at you wasn't the most amazing expression.

he hated it deeply because he wished he was next to you, but instead, it was that rather unpleasant bully of his. henry could think up a hundred million reasons why him sitting next to you would be better. an example is the fact that he understood math very, very well. In fact, it was his best subject and you seemed to be struggling with it. he could help you, and watch that darling smile of yours spread across your face.

he really was head over heels for you, the way your hair fell over your face, your voice, your laugh. how when you held his hand, you never hesitated to intertwine the fingers and pull him closer.

inside, he wished to pepper your face in kisses. to admit his undying love to you, to be your knight, your rock. it was endearing, the way you'd skip over to him during lunch despite being the most popular person in school and knowing you could sit with anyone.

you would plop down next to him and shoo off anyone who would bother the both of you. it was you and him against the world, against bullies, against math, against people, against everything and anything.

henry watched longingly as you asked the man that had been tormenting him for weeks for help! why, henry is beyond shocked. how could you, a sweet lovely amazing girl, talk to that guy!

henry watched jealously from the back of the math class, his gaze flickering from you to the jerk of a boy. he doesn't think he can watch one more second or else he'll do something he'll regret.

and as if god heard his wishes, the bell rings throughout the classroom. signaling that it was lunch time and henry would have 30 minutes to eat and most of all, spend time with you.

henry collects his books and starts to walk from his seat, a smile stretches across his face when he sees you walk— practically gallop to his side. the teacher is talking about homework, but henry can't hear her over you.

you're talking about your day so far, about how you hate math and how in the morning before school you slipped on the grass, which is why your white socks are slightly tinted a bit brown.

you talk about your hair style, and how last night you went to your cousins birthday party. henry can tell, there's still small specks of glitter in your hair and he reaches down to take one out. you smile, softly and happily.

one of your hands slip into his, and you two walk down the hallway hand in hand. you do most of the talking, and henry listens. he sometimes asks you questions, to make sure you know he's listening.

your hands are warm, and henry's hand doesn't hesitate to soak up your warmth. you two walk to your usual lunch table and sit down. of course, you're still going on about whatever happened in science and of course, henry is listening intently.

he'll never know this, just like you'll never know he likes you but, you thought about kissing him today and yesterday, and the week before that. you thought about kissing him on the cheek, or on the lips like you sometimes see your parents do.

but for now, you'll settle for his hand in yours. holding onto him, and him holding onto you. he likes this, you talking with him while you both eat from his lunch box.

you forgot your lunch again. well, as far as he knows. You had made it a habit to leave your lunch at home, despite the scolding you'd get from your mother. you did it to have this small, seemingly insignificant moment with peter.

you're both eating strawberries, and your teeth are tinted red. you laugh, and he smiles. he really loves you, and he can't help but think life couldn't be better at all without you.

you two, according to all teachers, are attached by the hip. henry hears what they say about you two, when they think they're whispering about how adorable you both are.

but he couldn't care less about what they say, as long as he has you. that's all he will ever need or cherish or want, you. the most angelic smile comes on your face, it's shy and small and you're giggling.

"i’m so sorry! i almost forgot to ask about you, how was your day hen?"

henry tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear, and he smiles too. "it's better now."

and you feel your heart squeeze, butterflies gently brushing their wings along the lining of your stomach. it is a better day now, now that you're with him.

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dobiemart · 2 years

Text

wet dreamz

pairing, edward “eddie” munson, steven “steve” harrington, & peter ballard, henry creel, or 001 x reader (non poly)

summary, general n’ relationship headcanons about the stranger things boys for girlfriends day because i love them so much and want need all of them to marry me.

word count, a lot lmao

byr, ty for all the love on my last peter story!!

im pretty sure i actually cried over the amount of people that actually liked it and enjoyed reading it so thank all of you lovely babes <33

also, can y’all tell these are my big three hahabdnxjshd andd theres an eddie fic coming up next so stay tuned for that

warnings, fluff and nsfw content but no actual smut, swearing, descriptions of body shapes, mentions of voyeurism, oral sex (m and f receiving), overstimulation, hair pulling, breeding kink, cum eating, dry humping (?), slapping, teasing, jealous sex, mentions of squirting, biting/marking, and this being overall filthy with some fine ass men to back it up. no, im not sorry either.

eddie “the freak” munson

sfw

this man really is genuinely a sweetheart.

his uncle raised him incredibly right and he respects everybody for who they are (minus those who chose to toss balls into laundry baskets, of course. it’s what’s killing the kids!)

hes a 10 but cannot cook shit but lukewarm water and pb n j’s. however, he’d try his hardest to make you something to eat if you were hungry.

for my beautiful ladies of color that wear their bonnets without a care, hes snatching it off and will take his ass whooping with pride.

i actually think he takes pretty decent care of his curls, minus a few frizzy clumps and knots. but he washes it with the same 10 in 1 body wash he uses for everything.

yes, eddie is loud and dramatic. no, he does not care. yes, you do love him for it, and no, you will not ever ask him to change cause thats simply who he is.

eddie is super clumsy on his ass every couple of minutes, resulting in you playing nurse and many kiddy bandaids being scattered around his arms and legs.

rubs your lotions, oils, coco butter, and creams onto your skin simply because he loves touching you. and maybe grabbing a handful of that ass- i mean- personality! yeah.

as eddie lovers, we cannot stress this enough. EDWARD MUNSON READS OUT LOUD AND HE WILL READ TO YOU. he has and will forever read you stupid ads from the newspaper to make you smile early in the morning.

he constantly nags you wear his chunky ass rings just to smile like an idiot when they easily slide off your fingers.

eddie loses shit constantly and does the standard spin in a circle and pat your pockets move until he remembers where he put it. and him doing his tongue thing the whole time. (hes so cute please)

though i love this man so much, but i just know he chews with his mouth wide open half the time without even realizing hes doing it.

cleaning up eddie’s room while youre with him just for him to throw some shit on the floor two seconds later and says a simple “what? did i do somethin’ wrong, babe?” when you give him the ‘go get my church belt.’ look.

it doesnt matter if youre shorter, taller, or the same height as him. eddie is stuffing his face in them tibbies when you hug. big or small, flappy or tippy tappy. hes getting a face full without any shame.

speaking of hugs, eddie really reminds me of a puppy in so many ways. he’d sit for a while and let you cuddle up on him, maybe falling asleep if he’s tired enough, but if not, you’d have to switch positions or he’d get up dance around with you if he was his usual ball of energy.

code switches from a grown man to whiney baby when you deny him affection in any type of way. you rejected a kiss ONE TIME and have never tried to pull that shit ever again.

you have to force him to take off that damn hellfire shirt cause he will live laugh love in that fucker until the day he… well… y’know. haha. (still too soon??)

nsfw

i just wanna get this shit out of the way first, edward ja‘quaviontavious munson would fake bang you every single time you bent down to get something. i do not care, eddie stans make the rules. it doesn't matter where you are either. man will grab your hips and slam his into that ass so quick, groaning dramatically while he does it.

on that note, eddie is a simple man. he likes a nice booty, but he also likes a titty or two. then again, he’d never turn down a thigh and tummy special. mf likes EVERY PART of his meal.

he gives switch energy but i really always lean towards a service dom or subby top typa eddie cause pspspspspsps i love him sm.

it does not fucking matter what you look like, what youre wearing, if your makeup and hair is done or not. eddie will get a piece of you whenever he can.

fantasizes about fucking you in the club room on his throne, sometimes with steve watching. (its up to YYYOUUU if you take him up on that you lil nasty freaky bi-)

eddie loves eating you out. when i say LOVES, I MEAN THIS MAN COULD GO AT IT FOR HOURSS ON EEENNDDUGH. 110% gets pussy-drunk too. but you could just give him one more, right baby?

has a thing for your nails scratching behind his ears/the back of his neck, also likes having his neck sucked on and will wear his hickies like a new name brand necklace.

he’s creamed in his boxers once or twice or maybe a couple more times from you grinding on him through his jeans while you made out.

ok ok but his exhuming bottom energy tells me that he’d babble so much while you were riding him. gives very much “you feel s’good baby, please,” and “oh- holy shit, baby! im so-o fucking deep-“ yada yada please fuck me sir and so on.

from the many of pornos hes seen, he’ll look over them and try to learn how to make you squirt. did it work? we’ll never know. (yea.. it did.)

grips onto the bedsheets instead of your hair when you give him head, as to not ruin your hours of precious work you did on your hair the previous night.

but when hes on his dommy wommy shit he loves to have a hand around your throat, squeezing ever so slightly and digging the cold metal of his jewelry into your neck.

wear that damn hellfire shirt and see what happens. if you wanna risk never walking again, do it, bestfriend. (but lets be honest, we’d all snatch up the opportunity to be with that raggedy ass white man ANYDAY.)

along with eddie being the sweetest boy ever, hes the sweetest after sex. he’ll get you whatever you need/want without as much as an inch of hesitation. he's always clingier afterwards, too. so give up any plans you had for that day cause it's time for hours of cuddles with our boy.

steve “the hair” harrington

sfw

also one hell of a sweetheart.

cooks, cleans, takes care of his kids, works, and is a certified baby daddy AND mother all at the same time. mf if you dont just put a ring on him already-

would tie your shoes for you. thats all. thats it. thats a wrap.

he cannot go anywhere without at LEAST two cups of coffee. a mother needs her morning newspaper and her happy juice to feel sane.

random asf but i feel like he has a juicer and will make the most god awful combinations and make you tru them with him haHAHAHHD

buys absolutely anything you want the second you lay a singular eye on it. (woah, y/n.. why are you looking directly at that ring?)

is the typa guy to bring you a new bouquet of flowers every week and would probably eventually get a job there with robin cause of how much he's there anyway.

steve has spidey senses. if theres a mood switch hes gonna know so simply let him cuddle you and hold you and never let you go.

kisses your hands, especially your ring finger. just to make sure you know he’ll eventually make you his forever.

hes the little spoon half the time. i do NOT make these rules y'all it's simply just the truth.

multitasking all the time. he’ll be talking to you and scribbling over the questions dustin got wrong for his english homework, all while making dinner for you two.

steve totally calls you at the video store and twirls the phone cord while he's talking. (robin will never let that shit go. EVER.)

he likes baking in the winter just to sit by the fire with the warm cookies and a contrast of cold milk. also cause winter time cuddles are the best type of cuddles.

mr. harrington as 2 rules in his car. no making chewbacca noises for dustin, and he always has to have a hand holding yours or on your thigh while he drives. (he’ll die without it, y’know.)

has a candy stash he will never tell anybody about, including you until you’re trusted to not take it all.

dies when you play with his hair. ABSOLUTELY dies. man is a tomato. hes R E D. NEON red at that.

again, i love steve so much, but he gives lactose intolerant energy IMSOSORRY

he has delectable taste in music. you get that blondie, bowie, beetles, etc.

stevie knows how to do hair and knows how to do it damn well. oh you want twists? go ahead and get cha pillow, baby. you want braids? hol’ on let me get my comb so we can get to sectioning. you want the normal fro? gir- if you go out with half yo damn head flat he’s finna have a fit.

he gradually moves everything in your room to his house and pretends like he doesn't know why it's at his now.

nsfw

dear lord jesus we’re sinning in the church WE’RE SINNING IN THE DAMN CHURCH.

softest dom in the history of dommingly domming until hes jealous or stressed. we see why yall mfs had six lil’ nuggets after that.

100% loves giving head too. another mf that gets pussy-drunk quick as hell and also babbles while receiving.

does not particularly like hurting you, but a slap or two on that ass wont hurt THAT bad, right? a bite here and there can't be too terrible..

two works. BREEDER. BALLS. also has a fat ass breeding kink and will absolutely pull out the “c’mon baby, please? jus’ wanna see you big and round with my babies- fuckin’ god, imagine your tits- please lemme fill you up,” just to be able to cum in you.

steve absolutely adores your thighs and would happily die between them. he’d also drag his fingertips over your stretch marks whenever he was particularly keen on getting his face in between your legs.

getting plowed in the video store bathroom and on the front counter after they close tee hee

will never admit it, but after one too many orgasms he WILL cry from overstimulation. just imagine the pretty, hot tears running from his eyes while you bounce on him.

hand marks on your hips from how hard he grabs you, practically urging you to cum early.

loves to see your face in missionary n would bury his face in your neck when hes about to cum.

would eat his cum out of you and i simply stand by that. putting my foot down and keeping it flat on the ground for it, in fact.

the sex after a long shift at the store… girl apologize to your parts and kiss her goodbye.

cuddle-fucking in bed before both of you drag yourselves downstairs just to do it again on the couch

ruts his hips into yours while sloppily making out because mm mm mm

loves it when you pull at his hair. literally doesn't matter where he is please pull on it he’ll die

as well as being the king of hawkins, steve is the king of aftercare. he normally always has a change of clothes, a couple of snacks, and a bottle of water near the bed before you even come over. oh, you wanted a bath, too? the water is already running and the bubbles are bubbling.

peter “angel eyes” ballard

sfw

besides literally being trapped in a lab, peter is an incredible man as well. (as incredible as he could be, anyway.)

a true gentleman that helps you in anyway that he can. oh you’re hungry? he’ll sneak in the kitchen and see what he can do. you’re tired? he’ll cover every round he needs to so you can rest.

actually adores you. in every way possible. to him, he’s a god and you’re his goddess. you both reign supreme over everyone and it will forever stay that way.

if he ever could, he tries to celebrate holidays with you. giving you small things that he’s had the children make just to put a smile on your face. even if it would get him into trouble.

peter will always take the blame for you, even if you don’t want him to. it would pain him more to see you even be slightly scolded by papa than it ever would being shocked.

dealing with him being a worry-puss over everything. you could take a step a millisecond slow from your regular pace and he’d be all over you asking if you were sore or hurting.

the definition of a cutie patootie in the morning. his hair no longer in its professional, upkept state, but ruffled all around the white of his pillowcase. his face being slightly flushed and his beautiful blues being put on display in contrast of his monochromatic room. im in love.

loves random talks with you throughout the day. especially ones while you watch over the rainbow room. he’ll gladly listen to whatever you say with an adoring look on his face, simply because he loves your voice and how you speak.

if when you two do escape, peter and you would have a small house away from the louder part of the city. i feel that he’d be a dark academia and minimalistic type of person with his home and clothing.

puts a ring on it as soon as you escape. he said you’d be his forever and he meant it.

peter loves that he gets to be himself with you. not the orderly he was forced to be. his hair was now grown out, a slight bit of stubble on his chin, and his puppy-like smile was brightly flaunted around all day.

likes physical affection, but he loves doing things for you. acts of service is just his thing. bringing you a warm drink in the morning, handing you your bag before you go out, picking you up from work, you name it and he’ll do it for you.

loves to read during his spare time and will read to you if you’re both cuddling while he does it. if it’s a romance/fantasy story, he’ll replace the characters name with his and yours.

picnic dates, café dates, library dates, walks through the forest, sitting by the lake, allll the cute pinterest dates we live laugh love for.

when you show him golden girls for the first time, he’s instantly hooked. you’ll come home from work/school sometimes just to see him cuddled up on the couch with a bunch of snacks and a re-run of his show on the television.

also loves bakeries. please take him there and get him a blueberry muffin or a strawberry cream puff. he’ll be as happy as a kid in a candy store.

he’d totally sing you to sleep too. did i add this only because i heard “dream a little dream of me” and thought of peter again? maybe. are we gonna talk about it? absolutely not.

nsfw

ooo i had to crack my knuckles for this one. TURN THIS SHIT UP!

lets be honest, he’d have absolutely 0 idea of how to do anything once he first started. this is the one thing he’s actually clueless about.

mans gets bricked up over the simplest things. you could inhale and he’d be down tremendously, horrendously, dramatically, terribly bad. but who wouldn’t? its you we’re talking about here.

but peter is literally a baby daddy. so when he learns what you like and how to do, he cannot get his hands off of you.

folds you like play-doh anytime he wants you in a different position. half the time scaring you half to death because you didn't know you could bend like that.

likes to mark you. especially by bite marks. i feel like he has pretty sharp canines and would dig them into your neck while he was biting and sucking on your sweet spot.

personally, i’d love pete’s slim hands around my throat, and i think he’d be more than willing to comply, but that’s just me.

is sweet but also mean at the same time. especially when giving you head. dont get me wrong, he loves to do it, but he also loves to see how frustrated you get when he just wont get to that sweet spot inside of you yet.

motherfucker is long. and he knows he is. so he’ll politely try not to go too hard when you go down on him, but he can’t help it when his hips buck up every now and then. but he sweetly apologizes with a “so-sorry, bunny, i jus’ cant help it, you feel s’good-“

likes to hold your hand most of the time. just seeing your sparkling ring finger in his grasp does something to him, making him into pound you even harder.

titty man. man likes a good titty. simply, a good handful of boob makes everybody feel alright.

peter also loves the idea of breeding you. seeing you full of his cum to the point where it’s spilling out of you makes him wanna do it all over again. he obviously does, and the cycle keeps going.

when you two were in the lab, you’d always have to quickly sneak off for sex. usually ending up in an old storage closet or an infirmary bed when the nurses were on break.

his long, slender fingers being slotted between your lips to lube them up. plus him moaning over this while his cock twitches because he can already imagine how they’ll feel when they’re finally on him.

do not be fooled by his angelic face and gorgeous eyes, he will not hesitate to beat your girly up into SHAPE if he sees you talking with another guy or sees a mouth breathers eyes linger on you for too long. you seriously need to apologize for the abuse you put your kitty through.

how is he at aftercare? simply perfect. at first, he didn’t know what it was, therefore he didn’t think it was very important to do anything of the sort after sex. but after he learns, he’s great at it. he’s your personal butler until you fall asleep and that’s not even the end of it.

hey bestie baes, how yall doin?

i hope youre all doing incredible on this incredible first day of the month.

i love you so so much and all your reblogs, follows, and likes are always appreciated. <3

-coraline :)

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lovetohate001 · 2 years

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I was thinking about an imagine with 001 that starts with smut and the next day 002 tells dr. Brenner that reader and 001 are secretly dating and the reader says it's her fault. So she gets tortured and shit. Then Brenner decides to let her go and Peter comforts her after and takes care of her PLEASE I LOVE YOUR WRITING!!!!

Never Let You Go

Peter Ballard x Female!Reader | ANGST, R-Rated sexual content

CW: spoilers for season 4, shock treatment scene

word count: 1.4k

He was never harsh. And he was never cruel. Whatever he had done to end up here was something you would never fully understand. Because how could someone so gentle and so beautiful possibly have been a monster, when he was so gently touching the parts of you that you weren’t even aware of.

“I need you to use your words,” he whispered softly into your ear, his breath against your neck sending a wave of desire through you.

“Please…” you sighed. “Please touch me.”

“Like this?” he circled your entrance with his index and middle finger, putting the lightest of pressure there. And he was almost-so close to pushing in.

You whined when he pulled back again and met your gaze.

“You look so beautiful like that,” he marvelled, his eyes sweeping over your body underneath him. “And it’s all for me.”

You held back a yelp as he pushed his fingers into you slowly, and softly. His eyes never left yours, his kiss-swollen lips parted as he watched what he could do to you, what his fingers did to that pretty face of yours, furrowing your brows and squeezing your eyes oh so tightly in pleasure.

Nights like these weren’t uncommon for the two of you. As orderlies in the Rainbow Room, the two of you spent large amounts of time together, and while you had established a beautiful friendship, the two of you grew older, and feelings blossomed into something a little bit more.

This night was special, though. Peter wanted you to escape. He wanted the two of you to have a life outside of this lab where you both could be more than this. But he needed a plan. And he needed 011 to do it.

Your nails dug into his back harshly as he left small bites down your neck, his hands still continuing their ministrations, his fingers gliding in and out of you perfectly, the other at your breast, kneading it softly. Breaths coming out in small gasps, your body went lax as warmth spread throughout you, Peter holding you close and peppering kisses across your face, muttering hushed words of praise.

“I love you so much,” you finally said, your breath caught and your eyes drooping with sleep.

“Sleep, my love.” He held you close and curled up next to you on the small bed.

You’d never felt safer in your life in a place that was crueller than the world outside.

The next morning was just as mundane as all the others before. Breakfast. Training. The Rainbow Room. Break. Training. Lunch. Academic Tests. Training. Rest. Dinner. What shocked you most was when Doctor Brenner approached you personally on the way to the dinner hall after your shift was over, his face grim and his frown etched into the crease between his brows.

“Please, come with me, there are some things we need to discuss in a more private setting.”

You did not like the sound of that. You trailed behind Brenner down the hallway, to his office on the other end. The smell of books and polished wood hit you as he opened the door and guided you in. 002 sat in one of the two chairs facing Brenner’s desk. His grey eyes shot up to meet yours quickly before going back to the ground. He threw a cocky smirk your way while Brenner’s closed the door.

“As you may know, Y/N, we have strict rules regarding fellow employees and test subjects at this facility,” Brenner started. “And with this in mind, you can confirm that you are very aware of the consequences if you are caught compromising these rules?”

“Yes, I am aware,” you answered, your gaze unwavering as you made direct eye contact with the doctor.

You could not under any circumstances let him see through your façade. Your loyalty and love for Peter ran deeper than that. Brenner couldn’t scare you into admitting a single damned thing. He’d have to kill you.

“The you are also aware that you have compromised these rules already,” Brenner said coolly, tilting his head 002’s way. “002 came to me this morning to report an incident he came across last night on his way back from the infirmary after his training. He states that you and Peter Ballard were in a rather compromising position regarding your place in this facility.”

You sat up a little straighter in your seat before replying, “I have no recollecting of such happenings, Doctor.”

“Well…it seems it is 002’s words against yours,” Brenner sighed. “It seems like we will have to take disciplinary action either way, since we have no way of confirming or denying these actions.”

“Cameras aren’t allowed in anyone’s rooms, as you clarified in our contracts, Doctor Brenner,” you confirmed, nodding your head in respect. Your sweet words tasted bitter on your tongue.

“They were together!” 002’s outburst made you and Doctor Brenner start. “I saw him go into her room. She’s lying!”

You looked at 002 with the best look of disbelief you could muster. This child. For all he was worth, you wished one of the other children would put him in his place. He was arrogant. And selfish.

“I trust that you aren’t lying, 002,” Brenner started, his voice calm and understanding, “but I am concerned as to why Y/N has decided to take the other side.”

“I am not lying. That was in my contract too.”

“I trust that 002, and all the other subjects here would never lie. But you are an outsider,” Brenner explained, his eyes cold and distant. “And I know outsiders don’t have the same amount of trust and respect that these children have. But I think you know where I’m going with this by now…”

“Take her to the therapy room,” Brenner said, waving a hand to one of the other orderlies who stood by the door.

You felt strong hands wrap around your arms and hoist you from your chair. You didn’t even fight it. If you did, he’d think you’d had something to hide. Something worth fighting for. And so, you allowed yourself to be dragged through the hallway.

You cast your eyes down to the floor when they strapped you into the chair. The hum of electricity filled your ears. an orderly placed a cap over your head. Stuck wires to your temples. Tied your hands to the armrests. A metal taste filled your mouth. You’d bitten your tongue when they’d let the current out, to run through your body, through your skull, your arms, your torso. If it weren’t for the straps, you’d have slid down onto the floor.

Your fingertips buzzed and your toes prickled with what felt like pins and needles. They asked you the same question every time: have you had any unprofessional relations with Peter Ballard? And every time you shook your head, before another current was sent through you, cutting into your bones and spiking your heart rate.

The dial went up, up, up, and so your consciousness swam down, down, down, until you allowed the darkness to swallow you whole.

“Y/N…”

It was a soft voice. A gentle voice. One you knew well, that dragged you back to the fluorescent lights of the infirmary.

“Y/N…”A calloused hand squeezed yours, harder and harder as you came back. Urging you to stay with him.

“It’s alright. I’m here. I’m here….” Those words were whispered by your ear as you felt arms lift you into a sitting position, coaxing a glass of water into your hands.

The sound of ice blocks clink clink clinking against glass. The water wet your dry lips and moistened your dry throat. You coughed. It stung to swallow. You couldn’t speak. Tears welled up in your eyes.

“Don’t cry my love. Don’t cry.” Gentle hands brushed your cheeks, wiping your tears away.

“My love.” Peter hugged you tightly and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “My love, you are alright. You are here. You are alive.”

You let out a small whimper, allowing your tears to fall freely now. You thought Brenner had taken him. You’d had such horrible dreams.

“We’re getting out of here. Tomorrow,” he murmured in your ear. “011 has agreed to help me. To escape with us. Tomorrow, my love. Then this will be all over.

”You nodded and took in a shaky breath. Soon. Soon it’ll be all over. For now, you would rest.

“After tomorrow, I’m never letting you go, never letting you out of my sight again,” he said into your hair.

The world had been cruel enough. It was time he showed them what monsters they had created. Even if it meant a few deaths for their freedom. Everything had a price in life for the means of restoring balance. And he knew the cost. He knew it all. For you.

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