Hi, hello!! It has been months, if not a full year, since I have posted 001, Peter Ballard fics, headcanons and Y/N povs. I have been much more active in the Genshin Impact fandom (mainly AO3), BUT when Stranger Things does eventually get a new season, I may return. Every now and then I pop back into this blog and can see how much my writing has improved since these 001 shortfics.
Alas, if you are into Genshin, you will find me on AO3 and Twitter @ archonsoflove! I post regularly, and have been keeping up with that fandom a lot more over the time since the last Stranger Things season~
You can still send asks and fic requests through~ I will definitely get around to writing for all of them~
HELLO, I AM ALIVE! AND ASKS ARE OPEN AGAIN FOR OUR FAVOURITE VILLAIN (AND THE OTHER STRANGER THINGS MEN) ~
send an fic request HERE
Super excited to see what asks come in~ SFW and NSFW are allowed!
It's been a solid year since I've written for the Stranger Things fandom! (I've been occupied with Genshin Impact for the past year or so, so you can find my fics for that here: @archonsoflove )
My writing and experience has grown immensely since I first started out on this blog, so I am excited to take on new fics with a fresh style!
Happy 1 year anniversary! I can't believe it's been a year since I posted Stranger Things fics here <3 I can't wait to see what's in store for us once the next season arrives!
hii, its my first time requesting for peter-đ but
a angst fic where orderly!reader seeing another female orderly flirting with Peter and, peter thinks its cute that reader is jealous so he flirts back. then he got confused on why reader ignores him, she only told how she felt when he finally cornered her and peter makes it up to her?? :))
AN: I am alive! I haven't written for Stranger Things since last year, and I am so happy to be back. and this fic was so fun and fluffy. Bite sized and not too long! Enjoy!
âYou have adjusted so well to your new position, Miss Brown.â
That was the first compliment Peter had given another co-worker in months besides you. Miss Brown this, and Miss Brown that. She was a new Orderly who had been placed on your ward after a new group of children had been brought in. Brenner had high hopes for these children and only wanted the best to handle them.
Her name was even perfect. Miss Brown. Like Charlie Brown. The smell of warm coffee at the beginning of a morning shift. Chocolate. The leaves turning for Fall. She was too perfect, and how you seethed.
âGood morning, Wilson. How are the children doing this morning. Any progress with 003?â
Wilson. You met Peterâs gaze, swooning at how kindly he looked at you. Your name wasnât anything like Brown. It reminded you of football and shoelaces. There was nothing poetic about it, and it made your temper simmer dangerously.
âMorning,â you replied shortly, tearing your gaze away to lock on the floor. Your shoes scuffed against the linoleum, squeaking in the silence. â003 is doing well. 011 is still in conflict. But with time things should mend, we hope.â
âWell, thatâs good to-â
âI have to go,â you cut him off, not sparing him a second glance as you made your way out of the hallway and to the breakroom. You needed to breathe. And your heart was in your throat, closing it up.
You shut the breakroom door behind you, sighing in relief when you saw you were alone. You made your way to the coffee machine, slow brewing something dark and bitter. Cupping the mug, you poured as much milk in as you could. If only you could wash Miss Brown away as easily as weakening your coffee.
âThis is absurd,â you muttered to yourself, scoffing at how ridiculous you were being.
You had been working with Peter for a long time, and you knew him. He was kind to everyone. But before Miss Brown you had been the only other female Orderly on your ward. You hadnât known Peter to extend his kindness to another woman before that you happened to work with every day up until now. Knowing that he was sharing his attentiveness with someone else left a pang of jealousy, and hurt, in your heart every time you saw him smiling at her.
With a sigh, you sat down on a rickety fold out chair in the corner, looking down at your sad, weak mug of coffee. This was truly a sorry sight.
ây/n?â a knock on the door.
You froze, eyes quickly flitting up to the doorâs window and down again. Of course heâd come running after you, generously kind as always.
You heard the door open as you idly watched your spoon stir your coffee around.
âAre you alright? You seem off today.â
Oh, how concerned he sounded. Like he actually cared.
âI do care.â
Oh, shit youâd said that out loud, hadnât you?
âWell, I donât care that you happen to care,â you snapped, finally looking up at him.
He looked surprised at that. You werenât usually like this at all. This seemed to spur him on, prodding at your thinning patience like a stick to a bear ready to leap.
âI donât know what I did,â he started, slowly sitting down on a chair next to you. âbut I would like to know what is going on.â
You stared at him. Those blue eyes staring into your green ones. Earth against water, and tumultuous with conflict as they battered against one another.
âItâs Brown,â you said simply. You took a large sip from your mug and grimaced, a frown deep in your brow.
âBrown?â he was even more perplexed now.
You got up and threw out the coffee in the basin, moving to the machine to brew another cup.
âStop. What do you mean by Brown?â He got up and caught your wrist, stopping you from starting up the machine again to drown out his voice.
You whirled around. âB. R. O. W. N! Do I have to spell it out for you? You like Miss Brown.â
His grip on your wrist loosened and you yanked it away, turning your back on him. The grind of coffee beans filled the stunned silence. You could feel his calculating stare land on your back, a target filled with speculation and judgement, no doubt. If he thought you had gone mad, you wouldnât doubt it.
âYouâre jealous?â was what he asked once the machine had finished, a fresh shot of espresso slowly flowing into your mug.
âNo.â You shoved the cap back on and moved down the station to put sugar in.
âYou clearly are.â Was that the hint of amusement in his voice? Did he find this funny?
You scowled and shook your head, aggressively dumping the sugar in, not sparing the small grains that flew to the floor a second glance.
The crunch of shoes on sugar as he moved with you. This haphazardly made coffee was somewhat entertaining for him to watch. He smiled a little, charmed by how much you had seemed to lose your composure.
Just as you were about to pour milk (a significantly smaller amount this time), he stopped you. His cool hand rested gently over yours this time, pushing your hand to set the milk carton down.
âI donât like Miss Brown, if that is what you are so ruffled about,â he said gently, his hand still there, palm down, over yours. If anyone were to come in, theyâd find it a funny sight: two Orderlies, both holding the same carton of milk, one ignoring the other.
âThen who do you like?â you pulled your hand away from his in defeat. The soft clink of your mug being placed on the metal table before you turned to face him once and for all.
âYou,â he said simply, a small shrug. âFrom how youâve been lately, Iâd say you do too. Like me, I mean, not yourself,â he laughed awkwardly and oh, the way that smile went crooked on one side made your heart flip.
âMaybe.â
You moved back a little, noticing how close he was. The soft crunch of sugar under shoes again as he moved closer to you again.
âMaybe?â that boyish smile of his never left as he leaned forward, a hand reaching up to brush your cheek.
Frozen. You were actually incapable of moving. And he was so very close to you, the soft tickle of his breath on your cheek as his lips softly pressed against yours in a closed kiss.
Your cheeks warmed as he pulled back, meeting your eyes again.
âIâll see you after morning roll call,â he said softly, breath fanning against your lips. âDonât be late. Brenner wants us all there at 7:30.â
Before you could say or do anything, he was gone and down the corridor. And you were left with your cooling cup of coffee and the lingering scent of spearmint and a cologne you couldnât name.
I've fully accepted the fact that my Vecna fics here are crack fics. If you can't run from the weirdness, embrace the monster erotica wholeheartedly. Looking back on those fics made me laugh so much. 2022 stranger things era was a wild ride!
Iâve been gone for SUCH A LONG TIME!
BUT I WILL BE BACK.
i plan to resurrect this account when the next stranger things season comes out. It will be quite some time from now, but i am endlessly thankful for all the love you have all shown my work <3
So I for some reason can NEVER take naps. Like ever. Even when I'm dead tired. I thought it'd be an interesting One Shot idea for Peter Ballard to help the reader sleep during the day/take a nap when they just can't and never have. I've never made an request on Tumblr before, I hope this works *nervous laugh* also I love your writing!
Sweet Dreams
Peter Ballard (001) x Orderly! Reader | FLUFF & ANGST
Word count: 1K
SONG MENTIONED
Š lovetohate001, 2022. reposting/translating is not allowed.
You had been awake for two days straight. Hawkins Lab had always been a place bustling with life. And never in the ways that could help keep your mind at ease. The children overworking themselves, the orderlies breaking down when the pressure became too much, Brenner losing his patienceâŚthe list was endless.Â
And today, you felt like death. Worked to the bone, you sat, a shell of the person youâd been on Monday morning, a small cup of coffee in your cold hands. Autumn was rolling in, and the bite of cold that came with it wasnât welcome.
 âYou look awful,â was Peterâs way of greeting you.Â
You offered a weak smile, âThanks,â and shifted over so he could sit against the Rainbow Roomâs wall with you.
âThatâs your fifth cup in the last three hours,â he pointed out. Not exactly upset, or angry.Â
But worry was etched into the crease of his eyebrows either way, and you hated it when he looked at you like that. As if you needed someone to look after you.
âIâll be alright.â You shrugged him off and focused back on the children.Â
003 and 004 were moving little blocks around in the air, passing them to one another. Your heart lightened a bit at the sight. The children seemed happy today at least. You leaned your head against the wall and closed your eyes, allowing the clattering of pucks and blocks to distract you from your thoughts.
 Clack, clack, clack.
âShit!â Your eyes snapped open when you started.Â
Your pants were wet. Crap. Youâd forgotten about the coffee. Your pristine, white unform had been tinged a dark brown.Â
âIâll be alright, you said?â Peter chuckled and helped you to your feet. âYou fall asleep for two seconds and this is what happens?â
âSorry, did I get anything on you?â You asked, warmth heating up your cheeks.
 The surveillance had definitely caught that. The last thing you needed was Brenner on your heels, nipping away and demanding to know why you were in such a state.
âNot at all. Donât worry.â With a warm smile and gentle hands, Peter led you down the hall to one of the break rooms.Â
Many of the nurses here slept over here when a child was critically ill after a class. And thankfully, this happened to be one of the less used rooms, tucked away into a far corner of the Lab. A small bed and a cupboard were all there was in here. Perfect.
âThey should have clean uniforms here for you to take for the rest of your shift,â Peter mumbled, his back to you as he rummaged through the cupboards.
 âThank you.â You took the white pants he offered you.Â
âSoâŚâ he closed the door and kept his back turned while you changed. âWhy are you so tired? You havenât been like this in a while.â
âItâs nothing,â you sighed, sitting back down on the bed. Shoes off and the thin sheet over your shoulders, you lay down. âYou can go back now. Iâll be fine here. The kids have to go to lunch soon anyways.â
âReally?â heâd turned back to you now, arms folded. You knew that stance.
 âStanding like a teacher isnât going to make me fess up, you know. That only works for the children,â you grumbled.
You wriggled over to the other side, facing the wall, your back to him.
âYou know, when we were younger, I remember how many nightmares you used to have,â he said softly.Â
You felt the bed dip under his weight as he sat down on the other end of the bed.
âThey were pretty bad, werenât they?â you gave a weak little laugh and closed your eyes.
 âIâd love to blame Brenner for it, but it was my fault.â
âPartly,â you tried. âI was the one who decided it would be a wonderful idea to share memories with each other. And I just happened to accidentally fall into one of your bad ones.â
âIâm still sorry for how that worked out, you knowâŚâ Peter laid a hand on your head and stroked your hair.
âCan you show me one of your good memories?â you sighed at the feeling of his hands in your hair. âMaybe itâll help put my mind at ease.â
âOf course.â Both of his gentle hands held your head, smoothing your hair down as he began to hum. It was a song the two of you knew well.Â
My love must be a kind of blind love,
I canât see anyone but you,
Are the stars out tonight?
I donât know if itâs cloudy or bright,
I only have eyes for you, dear
His gentle humming sent you to sleep. You felt your mind slip away into his memory slowly.
 It was warm. A summerâs day. Mother and father were in the dining room. Dancing. The record player went on late into the afternoon. Chet Baker and The Flamingos were surprisingly the household favourite. Although Henry never liked music very much, didnât understand the feelings behind it at that age, he enjoyed seeing his family happy.
âDance with me!â sister came running over, her smile toothy and young.Â
âI donât know how to dance,â Henry replied.Â
âSilly brother. Iâll show you how!â Sister grabbed his hand and took him into the living room, her small hand clasped around his.
âSee! Youâre doing it!â Sisterâs bright laughter filled the house, even as Henry awkwardly tripped over his own feet in the process.Â
Father was happy to see them finally getting along again after the move. It was all he could ask for after so many hardships.Â
 Peter couldnât help but smile when he noticed the ghost of a smile on your face as you slept. After what the two of you had been through under Brennerâs care, the least he could do was give you a sweet dream. Even if it meant lying to you about his past to do so.
Ok ok hear me out. A little fluff fic where the reader is an orderly at the lab and has a lot of time with the children. 001 walks in to the rainbow room and sees the reader dancing and singing with the children.
Dream A Little Dream of Me
Peter Ballard (001) x Orderly! Reader | FLUFF
word count: 760
AN: This fic is inspired by Season 4 Vol. 2, where Vecna plays Dream A Little Dream of Me at the Snowball in Maxâs memory! I wanted to write a small fluffy fic with this song. So letâs make happy memories with this one!Â
SONGS MENTIONED:
Š lovetohate001, 2022. reposting/translating is not allowed.
You had been working at Hawkinâs Lab for five years now. As a promising physics major at your local university, your fatherâs occupation at the Lab had been a major opportunity for you to get experience out in the field once your studies had been completed.Â
Doctor Martin Brenner had welcomed you to the lab with open arms, and you had been equally scared and excited to see the gifted children hiding away in the facility. And so, sworn to confidentiality, you had worked with these beautiful children every day. And you had loved every second of it.
âYou did so well today, Eleven,â you praised the little girl in front of you, no more than nine years old, who stared up at you with wide eyes and an even wider smile.
 âThank you,â she replied shyly, looking over to Peter, your co-worker, who looked over at the two of you, just as proud. In a way, the two of you were the closest thing to parents that all these children had.Â
A small jolt of sadness went through you at the thought. These poor children had no real parentsâŚor families. Theyâd never have a normal life. And they hadnât been able to choose this life either.Â
The Rainbow Room filled with the sound of a puck clattering against metal pins. Eleven was trying to get the puck in lane 8 again. Sheâd been struggling with that for a while it seemed. The frown on her face said enough.
 âYouâve got this,â you encouraged her, a tentative hand on her shoulder.Â
Sheâd already beaten 002 in their class today. The last thing you wanted was for her to overexert herself.
âIâll be right backâŚâ with a small pat to Elevenâs shoulder, you got up and went over to Peter.Â
âI was wondering,â you started, sitting down next to him.Â
002 looked at the two of you, eyes sparkling with curiosity. Two little red blocks were floating above his upturned palms.Â
âCan we play music for the children?â you asked, hopefully.
âAre you willing to risk it, even after what Brenner did to you last time?â Peter reminded you, eyebrows raised pointedly.Â
âWellâŚat least we know now that Brenner doesnât enjoy Soft Cell's Heat at all.â You cringed at the memory, remembering how angry he had been, finding the two of you listening to it on your Walkman in the break room.Â
A sly grin and blue eyes met yours. âI think the song choice wasnât the best, considering we are surrounded by children, donât you think?â
âShut up.â You waved him off, hiding how flustered you were. âIâm going to get my Walkman and bring it back here. I think these two have worked hard enough for today.â
Minutes later, the two of you had taken 002 and 011 down the hall into one of the empty training rooms. A cleaner had been there earlier, leaving the room bare, the smell of chemicals in the air.
âAnd nowâŚâ you hit play, âwe dance!â
You took 002âs hands in yours and moved the two of you around in a kind of waltz to the music.Â
Stars shining bright above me.
You caught Peterâs gaze over 002âs head. He smiled, radiant and handsome as ever. 011 looked so happy. Colour was back in her cheeks. And you could swear you saw the ghost of a smile on 002 as he allowed you to spin him around.Â
But in your dreams, wherever they may be
Dream a little dream of me
You were dancing with Peter now. Every small little touch he gave you. His hands squeezing your gently. His thumb brushing over yoursâŚyour heart couldnât help beating a small bit faster when your eyes met his again, that same mischievous glimmer in them from earlier.Â
Breaking eye contact, you saw 011 and 002 just a few feet from you. Despite the competition between the two of them in their classes, they seemed to have oddly found a truce in these few small minutes.Â
âIâm glad we decided to do this. Even though we will be in trouble for this later,â Peter whispered in your ear.Â
And you could do nothing but agree. Sometimes it was worth taking the risk. For all you knew, Brenner may have had a change of heart and been an Ella Fitzgerald fan this whole time.Â
ok hear me out reader is with her bf and vecna gets jealous and proves hes better than readers bf đż
I Can Do Better
Vecna x Female! Reader | HORROR, R-rated for sexual content
CW: Spoilers for Season 4 Vol. 1, has themes of horror that may be grotesque for some readers
word count: 2k
AN: This was something a LOT of readers requested, and I am happy to say that I have DELIVERED. This scared me a small bit, I wont lie. But I enjoy the horror side to Vecnaâs fics. I hope you enjoy this one!
Š lovetohate001, 2022. reposting/translating is not allowed.
 You had been hearing things in your sleep for a while now. Sometimes you heard echoes skitter across your bathroom walls at night. You swore you saw spiders in the corner of your eye. But every time you whirled around, there would be nothing there but the clean white tiles of the walls glaring back at you.
Taking a deep breath, you looked at yourself in the bathroom mirror.
âYou are going to go back in there, and you are going to enjoy it.â You told yourself this every time your boyfriend, Jesse, came over.
He just wasnâtâŚskilled? Was that even how you could describe it? You shook your head. Maybe this time it would be different. You were stressed. Work had left you exhausted at the end of every day. That could be why. It had to be.
âHey,â Jesse smiled up at you from his place on your couch as you cozied up next to him.
Your heart fluttered in your chest at how adorable he looked. His dusty blond hair was tousled, curls and all falling into his eyes. A sweater essentially swallowed him whole, along with the blanket wrapped around his shoulders. This was a sight you wished you could come home to more often. If the two of you could just not be so busy with workâŚ
âYou need to relax,â Jesse huffed, letting you sit cross legged between his own legs so he could massage your shoulders. âYou are so tense, angel.â
âThat feels good,â you sighed, letting your eyes close.
The drone of voices on the TV blended in with Jesseâs voice as he started to ramble on about his day. His fingers kneaded almost sensually into your sore muscles. You groaned and let your head fall forward. It just felt so fucking good.
âAre you enjoying yourself, baby?â Jesse chuckled, continuing his ministrations.
One of his hands roamed underneath your shirt to knead the soft flesh of your lower back. His hands were freezing.
âYour hands are cold,â you complained, wriggling away from his touch.
âNo, they arenât,â he frowned and pressed a hand to your neck. Sure enough, his hands were warm against your skin. âIt mustâve been a draft.â
âYeahâŚâ you couldnât help the feeling of unease settling in the pit of your stomach. Had it really just been a breeze?
You shook off the feeling and closed your eyes again, leaning your head forward again as he continued where heâd left off. His hands made they way from your shoulders, down your arms, to your sides, and rested on your hips.
âLie down for me, will you?â he whispered softly into your ear, a sly grin on his face.
âAnything for you, my love,â you said, a cheeky smile gracing your lips as he gently pushed you down to lie on your stomach.
âItâs the least I can do for you. This week hit pretty hard, huh?â His fingers pressed into the muscles across your shoulder blades, slowly inching down to the small of your back, and around your waist, gently squeezing your sides with enough pressure for you to let out a small moan.
âWhat was that?â You could practically hear the smug smile on Jesseâs face as he leaned in to give the crook of your neck a soft kiss.
You didnât bother saying anything back, just shaking your head, allowing him to inch your shirt up and pepper kisses along your back.
âOh.â You gasped, from what Jesse thought was him, when it was really those cold hands reaching underneath you, fingers like ice digging into your hip bones.
Jesse took this as a green light. Warm arms wrapped around you to turn you over, leaving you caged underneath him. You took a deep breath and met his eyes, allowing the golden brown of his eyes to soothe your anxiety.
Those cold hands ran down the sides of your ribcage, and you made a move to sling your arms around Jesseâs neck. Jesse is real, you told yourself. This is real.
Warm lips met yours and you sighed into the kiss, letting it melt all your worries away. A hand made it way down, fingers trailing and brushing against your clothed centre. You gasped into the kiss and allowed him to take your bottom lip between his teeth, revelling at the gentle sting.
The rustle of fabric, a bra clasp undone, and the tips of calloused fingers softly grazing over the peak of your breasts. Another pair of hands, cold, cold, cold, squeezed your hips at the same time Jesse squeezed your breasts. You keened at the different touches, not being able to stop the breathless whimper that escaped your lips.
See? I can do so much betterâŚ
Something was very wrong.
âAre you feeling good for me?â Jesse murmured against your ear, voice breathless and ragged.
A cold kiss trailed up your neck, nipping at your jaw.
Youâve behaved so well, havenât you? the cold fingers raked down your throat.
You let out a stuttered moan and brought a hand up to your neck. Your skin was cold.
âHeyâŚare you alright?â Jesse looked down at you with worry in his eyes.
âUmâŚâ you broke away from his gaze and took a deep breath, stilling your thoughts. âYeah, Iâm okay. Just a bit cold?â
âOh, I can get a bl-â He started getting off of you to stand up.
âNo, no,â you put a hand on his chest and sat up yourself. âItâs okay. Letâs get some dinner fixed, okay?â
With the mood killed to all hell and back, Jesse spent the next two hours helping prepare dinner and staying to watch TV for a while. Youâd made it up to him by opening one of your bottles of White Zinfandel sweet rose.
âGoodnight, my beautiful lady.â Jesse gave you the tightest hug imaginable, swaying as he let go to walk down the porch steps.
âGet home safe please!â you called after him. âAnd drive slowly.â
âYes maâam.â Your boyfriend saluted to you, a blush on his cheeks as he got in his car.
You waited for his car to round the corner before going back in, the autumn chill making you rub your hands over your arms.
âThat wasnât so bad,â you said to yourself, switching lights off as you walked to your room, wine bottle and glass in hand. It was less than half full anyways, so why not finish it? It was Friday after all.
Three glasses later, you were on your bed, eyes half closed as music played softly from the TV. You hadnât bothered to switch it off.
Sooner or later, you found yourself half asleep, blanket half draped over your body. You shivered and pulled the blanket up to your chest.
Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.
The clock didnât wake you up. You didnât even own a clock. Yet, there it was. The soft chime. You glanced over at your alarm clock. You couldnât see the time. You were dreaming.
Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.
âHello?â you dared to call out, your voice thick from sleep.
Your head pounded. You squeezed your eyes closed for a while; a hand pressed to your forehead. Maybe you shouldnât have had that rose. It was sweet. It always gave you a headache.
Arenât you scared?
This voice wasnât one you had heard before. It was sweet. Far from the scratchy, harsh voice you often heard, that sent chills up your spine and made you want to flee. It almost sounded kind.
âIâm not scared,â you answered into the dark. Your lamp was the only light in your room, and the TV still played on in your living room.
You should be.
Your lamp flickered. The TV hissed with static. Breath caught in your throat, you wrapped your blanket fully around you, like a child scared of a monster under their bed.
âWhy should I be scared?â
âAnd here I thought I was doing so well.â
You whirled around, and almost fell over the side of your bed with how quickly you stood up.
âSorry to startle you,â the man on the other side of your bed - currently sitting down on the other side of your bed â said very politely. A far cry from the threatening demeanour of his entrance.
âAre you some kind of stalker?â you questioned him. âI heard about the wild animal in town. All around Hawkins. Maybe that was you?â
âWhat an odd question to ask.â He looked impressed, but for the most part, offended.
âAre you the one thatâs been talking to me in my sleep every night?â this situation was so absurd that you didnât even feel that ashamed to ask, even though you felt your cheeks heat up despite your bravado.
âNow that was what I was hoping youâd ask.â
With the slight lean of his head to the side, you were pushed, by some sort of force, to sit down on your bed again. involuntarily, you felt yourself being pulled over to sit a few inches away from the man, your back against the headboard.
His hair was blond. Almost to the point of being pale. Ghostly. Yet somehow, he wasâŚhandsome.
âI donât want you to be afraid,â he murmured, blue eyes meeting yours.
Your heart seemed to return to its normal pace. His hand softly came up to cup your face. You flinched at the cold.
âIâve been in your dreams for weeks nowâŚjust like thisâŚâ he let go of your face and took your chin in his fingers, turning your face to the side.
Your neck bared to him, his lips touched your skin as he spoke.
âI knew you could feel me touch you while Jesse was here. Did you like that?â
âIt scared me,â you got out, breath hitching when he nipped at your throat, leaving cold kisses down to your collarbone.
âIs that so?â
His one hand kept your face away from him, his other trailing up your side, skimming over your ribcage, under your pyjama shirt and reaching up to squeeze your breast. His teeth bit over the peak of your other breast over your clothing.
A soft whimper left you. Conscious of how fast your heart was beating â from fear or desire, you couldnât begin to decipher â you inched up the headboard, giving him the space to lift your shirt up and splay his hands on either side of your ribcage.
âWhy me?â you held your breath as he met your gaze, his face inches from yours.
âBecause you never yielded,â he hissed into your ear, cupping your heat, palm pressing down hard enough to send a jolt of pleasure through you.
âI tried for weeks. Testing you. Scaring youâŚâ he nipped at your ear. âBut the more I tried, the more you resisted. We are alike that way, you and I.â
You didnât say anything back. Couldnât really, as his cold lips pressed against yours. Almost tenderly. Though you knew no affection dwelled in those eyes of his.
âBut tonight is the last.â Cold fingers slid your shorts aside and pressed against your entrance. âThis little game of ours is over.â
You woke up with a start.
The sun was up. You heard birds outside. The rustle of leaves.
You sat up, immediately regretting it as a headache pounded behind your eyes. When you got up, a wind blew through, kissing your bare skin. The windows werenât open.
When you climbed into the shower, you swore you felt hands run down your spine. But you shook it off.
When Peter killed the test subjects, he killed y/n also and he didn't know. When he was with Eleven, he saw the Black Widow that y/n made for him and he remembered that y/n must've been in the lab somewhere. Peter noticed y/n's dead body behind Eleven, laying in the exact spot they were while making the black widow. While in a state of somewhat shock, Eleven sent him to the upside down, where Peter is now Vecna. Vecna now, somehow felt upset that he killed y/n, and regretted killing them. Now all he had of y/n was the Black Widow they made for him. âšď¸đ (đ¤ also because Peter/Vecna can also have a small flashback to when y/n made the Black Widow for him.)
hi uhm first of all THANK YOU FOR THE BLOG secondly you write so well i am just in awe jdfnsdjf okay thirdly my little request, fluff of 001 falling for the reader even though he thought he wudnt find love but hes falling, maybe thinks shes just like the others so keeps it to himself until towards the ending arc shes willing to help him and 011 escape, sorry if its a ramble, whatever you write will be awesome so tyia ahhhh love the blog!!!!1
Until The Ends of the Earth
Orderly! Peter Ballard x Orderly! Reader | FLUFF & ANGST
word count: 1.6KÂ
AN: This fic has a special place in my heart. Childhood friendships, concealed love, confessions, and arguments. I hope you enjoy this one!
Š lovetohate001, 2022. reposting/translating is not allowed.
Peter couldnât remember when he first fell for you. Maybe it was when you were both children, and youâd been like an older sister to him. And that tenderness and love you had shown him when everyone else had seen him as a monsterâŚmaybe that was what had made his heart start to skip a beat every time he saw you in the morning. That smile that crinkled at the corner of your eyes and your warm âgood morning, Peterâ âs.
You had both fallen into a rhythm over the years, where one was never left alone for long without the other. Brenner hadnât truly thought about it much. The two of you were an excellent team, and the children here adored the both of you so dearly, that no one could truly try to separate the two of you. There wasnât any reason to.
âGood morning,â you greeted Peter that cold Monday morning.
Winter was creeping around the corner with the end to another year. And the thing he adored most around this time of year? The colourful scarves you wore over your white uniform. Every day, you seemed to have a completely different one on hand.
âLavender today?â he asked, his smile soft as he nodded towards the scarf wrapped around your neck.
âYes!â your smile seemed to brighten, if that was even possible, and you did a small little twirl for him. âDo you like it? Iâm not sure if I missed any stitches this time aroundâŚI made this last night.â
âI am sure you did. But it looks lovely.â He reached up to run the back of his hand over the scarf, not missing the way you held your breath. âIt is so soft. Iâm sure the children wonât be able to leave you alone today.â
You rolled your eyes and wrapped your scarf more securely around your neck. âIf I have to fight off Eleven today for trying to steal this one as well, I will have to bring you in to stop me from causing damage to the poor girl.â
Peter couldnât hide the amused smile on his face at that.
âShe has four of your scarves already from last week. I am sure she does it on purpose to see if you run out of wool to knit with. Or maybe she wants to start her own collection for all we know?â
âMaybeâŚâ you trailed off in thought, looking down at your shoes, âMaybe! Maybe I should try and make little scarves for the kids!â
âWhat for?â Peter had no idea where you were going with this.
âChristmas!â you exclaimed.
âChristmasâŚthe children have no idea what that is, first of all,â he pointed out, âand secondly, how on earth will we ever get past Brenner for this?â
âIâll find a wayâŚâ you gave him a small wink and started off down the hall, straight to Brennerâs office.
Peter had no idea how on earth you ended up pulling it off, but after a few hours, you came screaming down the hall: âWe can get the scarves!â
A week later, and a week before Christmas, you had decided to give the children their presents. Their laughter leaked out from the Rainbow Room as you and Peter stood by the doors, watching them.
âIâm glad theyâre happy,â you said, your eyes distant, a small sadness gnawing at your heart. âI wish they couldâve had a normal life. Sometimes I think they deserve more than this.â You gestured to the white hallways around you.
âI know.â Peterâs gaze had darkened a little, from sadness or anger, you didnât quite understand. âLook, Y/NâŚthereâs something we need to talk about.â
âOh?â you had not expected that at all. Your eyes were wide, and you would be lying if you said your heart hadnât picked up its pace a little.
He leaned in, his voice just above a whisper when he said, âBut we canât talk here. Meet me near the breakroom. Our spot, remember?â
And that was how you found yourself, outside in the cold, at the small little corner towards the back of Hawkinâs Laboratory. There were no cameras here. Your spot. Our spot, you reminded yourself. The two of you had snuck out here as children, showing each other your powers. The pine trees ahead were still the same, and still capped with fresh snowfall.
âHey.â Peterâs voice came from behind you, starting you and breaking you from your thoughts.
âHey,â you stared up at him expectantly.
He leaned against the wall and let out a long sigh. His breath came out in a cloud of white. It was so cold out here, yet somehow his eyes seemed colder. Carrying a weight that you hadnât seen there before this morning.
âWhat is it?â you asked, a tentative hand reaching out to rest on his shoulder, covered by a thick coat.
âJustâŚâ he frowned, eyes trained down on his shoes, pushing the snow back and forth. âI talked to ElevenâŚâ
âEleven?â
âAnd I have a planâŚâ he looked at you now, those blue eyes of his filled with a cautiousness that went straight to your heart. âI want us to leave. In a few weeks. Eleven has agreed to help me. Help us.â
âWaitâŚâ you took your hand from his shoulder and wrapped both arms around yourself. âYouâŚwant us to escape?â
âEssentially, yes.â
âButâŚthe others? The children? And only Eleven? Will she come with us? And itâll become a chase. Theyâll try to find us and then-â
âY/N.â
Cold hands reached up to cup your face, turning your gaze straight to Peterâs.
âY/N, I canât stay here. Not like this. â
âBut the children!â you hissed, wrenching your face free from his touch. âWe cannot leave them here. I wont. I cantâŚâ you hated yourself for the tears welling up in your eyes.
âIâŚâ
âExactly,â you spat. âThere is nothing you can say. You can go, for all I care. But I am not leaving these children here. Ever.â
You whirled around, your steps confidently steering you back to the warm white hallways you had known your whole life. You were foolish. Foolish for thinking he would stay here and love you.
And you felt like a child, crying so suddenly and unexpectedly. No- you didnât want him to leave. And you couldnât stay here without him. And you couldnât leave without the children either.
âI love you.â
Those words stopped you dead in your tracks.
âY/NâŚI love you.â
Footsteps crunched in the snow. Warm hands touched your shoulders. Warily turned you around.
âYouâŚYou do?â your voice was small, your eyes watery, looking up at him pathetically.
âCan I show you?â
With a small nod, the two of you closed your eyes. He held you tightly and pressed his forehead to yours, bringing the memory to the surface. It swam, weak and blurry. The Soteria did that. Weakened his powers. But you could see it.
The two of you were outside, at your spot. You had to be eight. The two of you were eight years old, huddled in the corner. You felt the summer wind stir your hair. Peter sat across from you, a small little spider in his hands.
âEwâŚâ you hated spiders. And he knew that.
âNo. look. Sheâs friendly!â Peter placed the spider on the ground and pushed her towards you.
You watched the creature warily. The black widow prodder its pincers into the dirt by your shoe, but didnât make a move to attack you. it looked up at you with little glistening black eyes.
âSee?â Peter gave you a wide, toothy smile and took the spider back, placing her on the small flower near him.
âYeah, theyâre not that scary, I guessâŚâ
âSo, what can you do?â
âUhâŚâ you looked around you. you spotted a small puddle of water from the rain earlier. âWatch!â
You stared hard; your lip worried between your teeth as you focused. The puddle shuddered. Then a small drop lifted, hovering above the water. it came over to you. you held out your palm and the two of you watched the droplet hover there for a second before plopping to the ground.
âThatâs amazing!â Peterâs eyes were wide.
The memory slowly blurred, and you opened your eyes, seeing that Peter was smiling softly. You knew you mirrored his. That had been the night the two of you had started your little friendship. Somehow you had found the same safe haven of a hiding spot, and started your own little hideout. Your little secret.
Peter leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. He hugged you close.
âI know you donât want to leave anyone behind. But if we make it. We can try. We can come backâŚâ he spoke into your hair, his hands running up and down your arms.
âYou promise?â you pulled back to look up at him, taking his hands in yours.
âI promise.â
You let out a small sigh of partly relief, partly fear for what was lying ahead for the two of you. Peter lifted your chin up and pressed a soft kiss to your lips.
You shyly buried your face in his chest, your voice muffled when you said: âDo you want to know something, Peter?â
âWhat is it, my love?â
âI love you too.â
And you always would. Until this was all over. Until the ends of the earth, if you could.
