001/ peter ballard | one shots

desperate

the repeated tapping of a lab-issued dress shoe striking the floor is the only sound, save for the quiet ticking of the wall-mounted clock, that can be heard in the hawkins lab break room. for the most part, the room is usually cleared out this time of day. you glance up from the book you've probably read thousands of times, your eyes finding the source of the noise.

seated at a table across the room from you, you find peter ballard, your coworker and fellow orderly. despite seeing one another every day, the two of you never interacted much past the polite greetings when you pass each other in the halls or the catching one other's eyes during lunch breaks and staff meetings. although, you've found that you enjoy watching him, studying his habits, his movements. you'd be lying if you said you weren't attracted to him.

which is why you can't help but admire him as he sits almost silently at the other end of the room; the way his eyebrows are drawn together as if being pulled by a string, forming creases in his forehead. the way he lightly chews on his lip as he stares at the table in front of him. the way he readjusts in his seat to try to hide the very noticeable tent in his pants.

you swallow at that last thought, plenty of other thoughts flooding your brain in response to the observation. you notice him looking up at you, but when your eyes return to his face to meet his gaze, he looks away again.

you frown and, after a moment of contemplation, rise from your seat, the shrill cry of the chair legs scraping against the floor breaking the silence. peter looks up again, this time not looking away as he follows your movements with his eyes. you grin, eager to mess with him.

"looks like you've got a bit of a problem there, peter." you comment, eyebrows raised as you briefly cast your eyes down to his lap.

"i-" the corners of your lips quirk up as he fumbles for something to say, his face turning a beautiful shade of pink.

you reach out and grab his chin lightly, pressing your thumb onto his bottom lip. you drag it downwards before releasing it, watching it fall back into place.

"you want some help with that?"

"what?" his voice comes out as little more than a surprised squeak as he looks up at you, face burning at the suggestion.

you opt not to say anything, instead dropping to your knees in front of him. his breath hitches when you place your hands on the insides of his thighs, spreading his legs apart. you slowly massage your way up his thighs, barely grazing his bulge through his pants before retreating and resting your hands on his upper thighs. he lets out a shaky exhale at the brief contact.

you look up at him through your eyelashes. "is this okay?"

peter swallows, nodding quickly.

"use your words, pretty boy."

"yes, ma'am."

you hum in appreciation, leaning in to press a quick kiss to his clothed dick as your hands resume their previous action, touching and stroking him through his pristine white pants. his head falls back and he groans as you reach for his belt, undoing it quickly.

"look at me, peter." as soon as he pulls his head up, you lean up and connect your lips to his. he hums appreciatively, and you manage to get his pants undone, pulling his cock free from his boxers. from what you can feel, it's not overly thick, but what it lacks in girth is more than made up for by the length. as you begin to stroke it, using the bead of precum at the tip as lubrication, peter moans into your mouth, and you take the opportunity to slip your tongue in.

peter's hips buck up into your hand, and you chuckle into the kiss. pulling away, you sink back to your previous position, shooting him a coy glance before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his weeping tip. you lick a broad stripe up the vein on the underside of his cock, and peter whimpers.
you're suddenly thankful that you're kneeling, otherwise you're pretty sure the sound would've made your knees give out.

you moan before wrapping your lips around him and taking him into your mouth. you hear peter mutter a string of expletives above you as his hand comes up to tangle in your hair.

"oh god, y/n. feels so good."

his words make you moan around his cock. ignoring the gathering wetness in your panties and taking him further, you gag slightly, but his hand tightening in your hair combined with the noises he's making spur you on.

you grip the outside of his thigh to stable yourself as you quickly bob up and down, your free hand stroking what you can't fit into your mouth. peter whines, his head falling back as you pull back and swirl your tongue around the head of his cock.

"shit, y/n, i'm so close. god- don't stop."

with the hand he has in your hair, he forces you down further on his dick, bucking his hips up into your mouth. you cough around him as he cries out, quickly clamping a hand over his mouth to muffle his moans. within seconds, you feel him fill your throat and loosen his grip on your hair. you pull off of his cock with a pop and swallow the saltiness. leaning in, you give him a soft kiss on the lips, both of you panting into it.

"you did so well, baby. so good for me." he smiles dazedly at the praise, but it's soon replaced with a frown.

"what about you?" he asks, gently holding your waist.

you smile. "don't worry about me, pretty boy. this was about you."

you fall silent for a moment as he reluctantly stands and begins tidying up his appearance. after a moment of thought, you speak up again.

"if you really wanna make it up to me," you smile coyly, bringing a hand up to his chin and angling his head to face you, "meet me in storage room b after dinner tonight."

his pupils dilate as you let your arm trail down his chest. you turn around and walk out, leaving him with a half-hard dick and a fun night to look forward to.

1086 words