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ilikefandoms · 2 years ago

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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)

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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 factuality. 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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ilikefandoms · 2 years ago

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Hi! If you’re still taking requests, I would like a Peter fic where the reader gets trigger and maybe has a flashback or dissociates and Peter helps ground her. Only if you’re comfortable as always. Thank you for the fics!

u got it, anon! hope u like this! you didn’t specify what the trigger should be so I went with loud noises as they can sometimes trigger me! I hope that’s okay :) if not, send another ask!

tw: panic attack, dissociation

“Bub.” Peter looks up at you from his side of the table, laughing. “We’re missing popcorn.”

And he only means it as a gentle tease- lighthearted and sweet, poking fun at the both of you for forgetting- but when your head snaps up in realisation and a panicked light hits your eyes, Peter wishes he could take it all back in seconds.

“Oh god, yeah, shit - I’ve got it, sorry. I’m sorry.”

You shoot up before he can reassure you that it’s alright, mortification written all over your face - a deer caught between the harsh headlights of an incoming car. You look queasy, Peter thinks. Like you’re seconds away from throwing up or passing out - and before he can get a word in sideways, you’re out of the bedroom. Hurrying away, an anxious ball of nerves.

Peter Parker knows, logically, that you’re just stressed. Worried that the movie date night you've spent days planning won't go the way you want it to, that you’ll mess it up somehow. Personally, he doesn’t really mind what the two of you do on date nights, as long as you’re together, but he knows that you’ve been planning this out for a while. Knows how much it means to you.

He’s deciding whether or not to follow you into the kitchen to give you a hand when the sound of something crashing to the floor and shattering reaches him; causing his spidey sense to go haywire. And then, worse, the strangled tearful gasp that follows.

He rushes into the kitchen to find you standing stock still over a mess of popcorn and broken glass that used to make the bowl that carried it. Your hands are pressed against your ears hard and unforgiving, shielding you from the sound that the bowl made on impact. Your breathing is shallow, choppy, eyes blown wide as you stare at the mess of glass shards and salted popcorn kernels covering the floor and your socked feet.

You don’t seem hurt. Only spooked. But there’s something in the way you’re standing; limbs locked, body hunching over, whole frame trembling, that makes Peter’s heart skin. He’s seen you anxious and upset before, knows that if it’s not too bad you like to be treated normally as you come back to yourself and work through your thoughts. Cuddled afterwards too if you feel up to it.

But this is not like the fleeting moments of anxiousness he’s seen you have before. This is nothing like that.

Whatever this is, Peter thinks, it’s far far worse.

“Wanna step over to me, baby? Promise I’ll catch you.” the boy keeps his voice light, playful. Tracking your breaths as he speaks.

No response. No confirmation that you’re okay. It’s like you haven't even realised he’s in the room.

“Bub, can you hear me?”

Your gaze stays firmly tracked on the mess between the two of you, but tears begin to gather at your waterline and Peter takes a cautious step forward.

"Baby,” he tries again, panicking a little too now, but determined to not let it show. He should use your name, he thinks. Something familiar. Something that’ll ground you to reality. Bring you back to him.

(It’s what you do for him when he returns from difficult patrol nights. Peter, Peter, Peter falling from your lips in reverent prayer-like whispers as you help him in through your window, disinfect his injuries, curl up behind him on the bed.

You always help him feel more like himself. Peter hopes he can do the same for you now.)

“Can you look up for me, Y/N? Just so I can see you’re okay?”

No reply, but you do blink once, twice, before looking up at him slowly, something akin to recognition flickering in your expression. Pretty eyes looking wet and sore in a way that Peter never wants to have to see them again. He offers you what he hopes is a reassuring smile and closes the distance between you in three more steps. Brushing the glass away with his converse as he goes and clearing a path for you.

You sound so small when you speak that Peter barely catches your words.

“I’m sorry.”

He takes another step towards you, palms up and facing you. Showing you that he's not a threat. Even curling his shoulders inwards every so slightly, in order to make himself smaller.

“You don’t gotta be sorry about anything, Y/N. It was an accident.”

“I messed up,” you whisper, crestfallen, breathless. “I fucked up, I’m sorry. It was so loud-“

An uncomfortable knot forms in Peters chest as he realises the cause of your distress, but he soothes you tenderly with placating murmurs, stepping closer every so often until he’s right in front of you. Your hands are still tightly welded against your ears as Peter tilts his head slightly so that your eyes meet his.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he speaks quietly in the hopes of calming you down a little.

“I need you to take a breath with me, okay? I’ve got you.”

Somehow, his words cut through and the relief that washes over him when he sees you take a shaky inhale is near tidal.

“Good job, bub. You’re doing so good. Comin’ back to me.”

The two of you breathe in synchronicity for a few more minutes, and when Peter is confident that you’re calmer than before, he looks at your hands and the places where they still press against your ears.

“You can uncover your ears, sweetheart. It’s quiet now.”

You shake your head, disbelieving, but thankfully still less panicked than before.

“No- no the crash- I can’t, Peter.”

Peter reaches out slowly and when you don’t flinch away, he smooths his hand against the nape of your neck, cupping your head gently.

“Y/N, I promise you that it’s not loud anymore.”

You stay silent for a few seconds. Assessing his statement, turning it over in your head as you consider it. Then;

“Are you sure?”

Peter nods, “Positive.”

Ever so slowly, you lift your hands away from your head.

“It was pretty noisy, hm?” his hand travels down from your neck, soothing over your shoulders and running down your arms. You lean into the touch.

“I didn’t mean to react that way, it’s stupid.”

“It’s not. You can’t help it.”

"I really wanted us to have a good movie night, but I broke the popcorn bowl and it was an accident, but I-"

Peter shakes his head firmly and presses a kiss to your temple.

“You don’t have to be sorry for a thing, Y/N.”

You reply shakily, ”I didn’t mean to react like that. I didn’t mean to ruin things, I didn’t-.”

The boy holds you tighter and you lean in, letting the compression soothe you as your words trail off.

“Listen to me, honey. You haven’t ruined anything. We can still do movie night, we can still cuddle. All we gotta do is tidy up in here and then we’re good to go.”

He pulls away then, eyes roving over your body, running an inventory.

“Are you hurt?”

You shake your head and Peter smiles at you, scooping his hands under your arms easily.

“C’mon,” he murmurs. "Up we go."

He places you on the countertop and proceeds to sweep up the glass and popcorn kernels. You lean back against a cabinet and focus on your breathing.

Peter hums as he tidies, glancing up every so often to check that you’re still doing okay. Refusing to let you anywhere near the broken glass whilst your body is still trembling a little and your feet are only covered by fluffy socks.

When he’s done, he comes back to the counter and pulls you off it and into his arms. Sweeping you through the corridor and depositing you gently on the bed. Peter puts your favourite movie on in the background at a low volume and you sink into his side, a depleted weight resting against him.

“You okay?” he whispers as you adjust and burrow yourself further into his embrace.

“Yeah, just tired.”

“Sleep, bub. I’ll be here when you wake.”

———

i’m trying to write more often but it’s not always super easy. thank u all for being so patient with me x

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ilikefandoms · 2 years ago

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Safe - Peter Ballard

Summary - You are afraid of being captured back to the lab, and you can’t seem to relax. Peter helps you

Pronouns used - They/Them

A/N - God, this is my first time writing in over a year. Hope this didn’t suck

Warnings - Mentions of shock torture, OOC Peter ig? This is mainly gender neutral, but Peter does pick the reader up

Word Count - 1,474

You were on edge. You constantly felt like you were being watched: every phone that rang making you jump out of your skin, every security camera you came across felt like it was watching your every move, daring you to look directly at it so it could track, and hunt you down. And, considering you worked at the local supermarket, that wasn’t good thing.

Your boss had noticed how uneasy you were, and after an incident of you shattering a bottle of wine, after a customer had tapped you on the shoulder, she promptly asked you to go home and get some rest.

So arriving home, you kicked your shoes off, switched on the TV and collapsed on the couch. You tried to wind-down and relax, but you couldn’t. You hadn’t been able to relax, or even sleep, in what felt like days, and if you weren't careful, Peter would start to notice. You couldn’t worry him with this, he didn’t deserve more stress.

You jolted at the sudden sound of the front door opening. It was only Peter. “You’re home early darling,” Peter said, spotting you on the couch.

“Yeah, work sent me home early,” you said.

“How come,” Peter sat next to you, giving you a quick peck on the forehead.

“Couldn’t concentrate, the told me to go home,” you shrugged.

“Oh,” Peter responded, “I’m going to make pasta tonight, your favourite,” He smiled.

“You don’t have to,”

“Well, I bought the stuff for it at the little store next to work before I came home,” he remarked.

“Any reason?” you queried.

“Just want to treat my favourite person,” he planted a kiss on your cheek, “Just stay here, and I’ll call you through when it’s done,”

“Are you sure you don’t want any help?” you asked.

“I’m sure,” Peter stood up, “I have magic literally at my fingertips baby, you just relax,”

You stayed sat on the couch hearing the muffled clatter of pots and pans from the kitchen. You couldn’t relax. You thoughts were racing through your head.

What if Brenner found you?

What would he do to Peter?

What would he do to you?

Memories of the lab plagued your mind.

...You awoke with a groan, your limbs still shaking. Your electrical burns bandaged, but still throbbing in pain. You blinked a couple of times to clear your vision. You were in the infirmary, the white curtains that surrounded your bed giving it away.

“You should’ve stayed away from Peter when I told you to!” Dr Brenner's angry voice pierced your ears, as yet another shock was delivered to your abdomen by an Orderly.

“Please, make it stop, I’ll do anything!” you begged, tears streaming down your face. The pain was excruciating. You didn’t know how much more you could take of this. It felt as if your brain was bleeding out of your ears. Surely you wouldn’t make it...

You heard hushed voices from behind the curtains, “Please, just two minutes, I need to see them,”

“Fine. Two minutes, not a second more. I’m not putting myself on the line for you Peter,”

Peter. Peter was here.

You watched as the curtains were pulled back, and promptly closed again, revealing Peter, “Hi darling,” he was whispered.

“Hi,” you croaked out, as your boyfriend kneeled down next to your bed, and gently held your hand in his.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, pressing his lips to the back of your hand.

“It’s not your fault,” you squeezed his hand reassuringly, “Just promise me one thing,”

“Anything my love,”

“Get us out of here. I don’t know how much longer I can bare this,” you choked out, eyes welling up with tears.

“I promise,”

“Darling, dinner’s ready!” Peter’s voice snapped you back from your trance.

You took a deep breath, as you dragged yourself off from the couch, and into the dining room. Peter was placing your plate at your place on the table, “Would you like a drink?” he asked, pulling your chair out.

��Just water please,”

Peter returned less than a minute later, and set the water down on the table, “Looks amazing” you smiled at Peter as you spoke, “Thank you,”

“Not a problem. You know I quite enjoy making it,” Peter told you. He hadn’t been able to cook before in his life, and when you escaped, he had bought cookbooks-a-plenty. He had enjoyed creating and tasting all these new foods with you, lots of which he had never had heard of before.

You said little as you ate, preferring to simply listen to Peter talk about his day at work. You let out a small laugh as he told the story about how his co-worker had spectacularly tripped over his own two feet. Peter always had the ability to make you laugh when you were feeling down.

You and Peter finished eating, and you both stood up, bringing your empty plates into the kitchen. You went to turn on the hot tap, and wash up, when Peter grasped your arm, “I’ll do it later darling,” and as you opened your mouth to protest, he said “Ah, ah, I won’t hear it. Come on,”

Your boyfriend held your hand, leading you back into the living room, and onto the couch. He faced you, and clasped your hands in his, “What’s going on with you Y/N?”

“What do you mean?” you said, avoiding eye contact.

“Don’t pretend that you don’t know what I’m talking about,” Peter stated, “I’ve noticed how little sleep you’ve been getting, how jumpy you are, and how on edge you’ve been,”

You swallowed. You didn’t know you’d been that obvious.

“Look at me,” Peter said softly, “You can talk to me. You always can. I just want to help you,”

You felt tears well up in your eyes. How could you tell him what was going on in your mind? Wouldn’t that just make him just as paranoid? Would he be angry that you were thinking about the lab, and not this new life you had made for yourselves?

You felt a couple tears drop from your eyes, and hastily removed your hand from Peter’s to wipe them. It couldn’t hurt to try and tell him. It’s just Peter. Your Peter.

“I just..” you took a deep breath, composing yourself, “I keep thinking about the lab, and what they did to me - what they did to us, and I just keep wondering...” you trailed off, letting more tears fall.

“Wondering what, sweetheart?” Peter asked, wiping the tears from your face with his thumbs.

“What is they find us?” you blurted out, breathing heavily, “What if they take us back? What if they hurt us again?” your voice cracked as you spoke, “And, what if.. they take you away from me?” It was somehow worse to say out loud.

“Oh darling,” Peter pulled you into his lap, and wrapped his arms around you, letting you bury your head into his shoulder, “They’re not going to find us. But, if in a ten-million to one chance that they do, they’re not going to take us. I’m going to protect you. I would never let them take me away from you,”

“Promise?” you mumbled into his shoulder.

“I promise,” he affirmed, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.

You looked up at him, still sniffing, but no tears escaped from your eyes, “I love you,”

“I love you too,” he presses his lips to yours, “Lets go to bed, yeah?”

You nodded, and before you could get up, Peter was tightening his grip around you, and stood up, carrying you to your shared bedroom.

Peter gently placed you onto your queen-sized bed, pulled out some comfy pyjama trousers, and one of his oversized t-shirts for you to wear from the chest of draws in the corner of the room, then proceeded to get changed himself. He had put on a plain pair of pyjama trousers.

Once your were both changed, he guided you in silence to your en suit bathroom, to brush your teeth. He then guided you back to your side of the bed, and opened the covers for you to get in.

Switching his bedside lamp off, and getting into his own side of the bed, he wrapped his arms around you yet again, “Do you think you’ll be able to sleep now darling?”

You shrugged, “I’m not sure,”

“Do you want me to help?” he asked.

“Please,” you nodded.

Peter slowly trailed his hand up, and down your back. You started to feel more relaxed, feeling like you could almost sink into the mattress. His hand traced up your back once more, this time, lightly pressing onto your temple with his fingers.

And, just like that, all your worries were gone. All those bad memories were nowhere to be seen. You felt at peace, your brain full with happy memories of you and Peter. You slowly drifted away into a slumber.

“Sleep well my love,” Peter whispered, wiping his bloody nose with a tissue, and placing it in the bin next to the bed, “I’ll be right here when you wake up. I promise.”

********

#peter ballard x reader #peter ballard fluff #001 x reader #001 fluff #henry creel x reader #peter ballard imagine #peter ballard #001 imagine #henry creel imagine #henry creel fluff #peter ballard x y/n #peter ballard angst #001 x y/n #001 angst #henry creel angst

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ilikefandoms · 3 years ago

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I have decided not to write for MGK, and est in general anymore.

I'm not writing as much as I used to because of my loss of motivation, and I'm just not in this fandom anymore.

There's also old tweets and stuff resurfacing of MGK possibly being a predator, and that just doesn't sit right with me.

I'll keep my MGK fics up - at least for the time being - but I juist wanted to let you guys know my feelings on it.

I'll continue to write as and when I want, and it'll be for whatever fandom I'm feeling at the time.

Thank you all for the support xx

(UPDATE - I have now removed my MGK fics from my masterlist and blog. I hope you all understand my reasoning)

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ilikefandoms · 3 years ago

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nobody:

me checking the word count every time I add a new sentence:

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ilikefandoms · 3 years ago

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Do you write smut?

No, I don't feel fully comfortable writing it, but I will do some steamy stuff xx

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ilikefandoms · 4 years ago

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please sign if you’re from the uk!! (but ONLY if you’re from the uk) https://petition.parliament.uk/petitions/580220

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ilikefandoms · 4 years ago

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Justice - Gang!Dominic Harrison pt.2

pt.1

Summary - The next part of your plan is put into action. You need to find the whereabouts of Dom’s killer.

Pronouns used - She/Her

A/N - Sorry this took so long, writer’s block really is a bitch

Warnings - Guns, kidnapping

Word Count - 1,628

Adam told you what he knew. He told you that it was the rival gang’s leader - Trent Miller - that orchestrated the attack. He was even there himself, and was the one who fired the shots that killed your boyfriend.

The problem was, you didn’t know where he was. According to the research Adam, and the gang had done, he moved his Headquarters every time they did a raid.

“So basically... we have no idea where he is?” you asked, setting down a file on the table. Adam’s house had files scattered about on what seemed like every square inch of every surface. You had been staying with him, since the night that you told him you wanted to bring Dom’s killer to justice.

“Well, almost,” Adam said, “There is one person that could have some information about his location, but he’s not gonna hand it to us on a silver platter,”

“Meaning we’ll have to do what? Torture him?”

“Well, maybe not torture, but we will probably need to do something to scare him,”

“Like blackmail?” you asked.

“Potentially. If we can’t do that, then guns are definitely a good scare tactic,”

“Okay,” you thought for a moment, “Who is this guy, and where can we find him?”

Adam searched in a pile of files, before picking one out, showing you, “This is Miles Carter, he was one of the main suppliers for Trent Miller. He knows practically everything about him, and still has people on the inside feeding him information,”

“Was? What happened,” you asked flipping through the pages.

“Nothing much, he ended up getting allot of money, and handed over his business to someone else. He’s now living rich in San Francisco: huge house, bodyguards, cars, pretty much everything he would ever need,”

“If he has all of that, then how do we get to him?” you asked.

“We get him when he’s on the move, it’s when he’s most vulnerable,” Adam started to explain, “We found out that he’s going to an event happening for a bunch of old rich white dudes. We just need to pretend to be his driver, and we can take him anywhere,”

**********

You and Adam had been planning for about a week. You had managed to hack into Miles' emails, allowing you to see not only the driver’s name and number, but the time, and place of where he was going to be picked up.

Your plan was to send a phony text message to the driver from an ‘assistant’, asking him to pick up a sandwich for Mr. Carter, and while he was gone, you would take the place of the car.

“I’ll take the place of the driver, and close the hatch, so he can’t see it’s me,” Adam started, “And, you’ll be hiding behind the back seats, then you can easily climb over and cover his head, so he cant see where we’re going,”

You nodded, “And then we’re taking him here,” you pointed at the map on the table, circling a building, “ Where we’ll question him,”

You had been revising your plan for what seemed like hours, making sure that everything was perfect. There could be no slip ups, if there were, then it could cost you this whole mission.

“Do you remember what to do if he doesn’t give us the information we need?”

“Blackmail him, tell him that we know he’s been cheating in his wife, and we have proof - show it to him-, and if that doesn't work then we get the guns out,” you recited.

“And the number one rules?” he asked.

“Keep your face hidden under the mask at all times, and don’t reveal anything about yourself. I know this Adam,” you said.

“I know. I just want to make sure that you’re staying the safest you can - considering the circumstances,” he gave you a smile.

“I’ll be fine,”

**********

You laced up your combat boots, looking up at Adam as he spoke, “You almost ready?”

“Yeah,” you said as you stood up, and tucked your gun into the back of your trousers, “I’m ready,”

You both made your way to the SUV waiting for you in the driveway. You climbed into the back seat - it being easier to move into the back when you needed- and Adam got into the driver’s seat.

You and Adam drove in silence down the roads: you were both thinking and reciting the plan in your heads, over and over again.

The car slowed, and stopped behind a building, keeping you hidden, but also letting you have a perfect view of the conference building.

The driver was directly in your eyeline, allowing you to see his every move. You clicked send on the text message, nodding at Adam. You watched as the driver looked down at his phone, made an annoyed hand gesture, and got into his.

The first part of the plan had worked.

Adam was watching the car drive down the read, and out of sight, “Get in the back,” Adam told you, pulling the driver’s cap on further down his head, as you climbed behind the seats.

The SUV halted outside the conference building - you could hear muffled voices coming from outside. You made sure that the opaque black bag was ready to put over Carter’s head.

You heard the opening, and then slam of the car door, “Home please, Nigel,” Miles said. It was time to wait for Adam’s signal.

The car sped down the road, and turn a couple corners, you staying quiet all the while, keeping your ears out for Adam’s signal.

“Now!” you sprung into action, pulling the black bag over his head, and knocking his phone out his hands. You were met with startled yells and his flailing arms, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” you threatened, pushing your gun against his side, making sure he could feel the cold metal.

Miles immediately stopped struggling, so you took the opportunity to zip tie his hands and feet. “Who are you... What do you want?” he choked out.

“We’re just some people with some questions for you,” you responded.

“What are you going to do to me?”

“Nothing, as long as you give us the information we want, and shut up,”

Adam continued driving to the abandoned building, the only sounds in the car being Miles’ shallow breaths of fear. You kept your eyes focussed out the window, keeping the gun on his side.

You pulled up at the back entrance to the building, Adam slamming his door first, and then coming round to the back. Adam opened the back door and threw Carter over his shoulder - Carter’s feet being zip-tied together.

You unlocked the door, holding it open for Adam, and locking it again. You pulled on your mask, watching Adam sit Miles down on a metal chair, before doing the same. You switched on the overhead light, before ripping off the bag from Carter’s head.

He frantically moved his head around, taking in his new surroundings, eyes squinted at the bright light, “What do you want from me!” he almost shouted, spit flying from his mouth. He was scared, you could tell.

You slammed your hands down on the table in front of you, making him flinch, and almost jump back, “Okay, I’m going to tell you how this is going to work,” you said lowly, a smirk obvious in your voice, “You’re not the one who asks the questions: We are. Understood?”

“Y - yes,” he uttered.

“Good,”

“Do you know this man?” Adam asked, sliding a photo of Trent Miller across the table,”

“Yes, that’s Trent Miller,” Carter answered.

“How do you know him?”

“I used to be one of his drug suppliers,”

You nodded. You obviously knew this, but you were making sure that he was answering your questions honestly, “We understand that you still have people giving you information about him. Is that true?”

“Yes,”

“Do you know where he is?”

Miles didn’t answer, just looked away, “She asked you a question,” Adam said in a threatening tone.

“I - I don’t know,” he stuttered.

“Oh, I think you do,” you pulled out a file from your bag, “but, before I ask you again, I’m going to tell you what we know,” you opened the file, spreading the contents across the table.

“This is you no?” you pointed to a photo of Miles and a random lady, kissing, “But, who is this? Its not your wife,” you said in a mocking tone.

Miles cleared his throat nervously, “What do you want?”

“We want you to tell us the truth, and if you do: we won’t tell your wife of your little affair,”

“Okay, okay, fine. I know where he is. He’s staying at 23 Westbrook lane, it’s an old abandoned factory,” he blurted.

“That wasn’t so hard was it?” Adam said, placing pictures back into the file.

“What are you going to do with me?”

“We’re gonna drop your ass off somewhere, and you can make your way back home,” you answered.

“And how to you know that I wont tell Trent Miller that someone is coming for him?”

You grabbed your gun, and shot it at the wall next to him, “Because if you do, that bullet won’t miss you next time,”

**********

“Are you sure he won’t say anything?” Adam asked, looking at you from the other end of the couch.

“I’m sure. I mean, did you see how scared he was?” you laughed.

“It was pretty funny,”

“He looked like a deer caught in the headlights,” you both laughed.

“Lets just hope the last part of this plan goes as well as this,” Adam said.

“Yeah, lets hope,”

#dominic harrison imagine #dominic harrison #dominic harrison x reader #dominic harrison angst #yungblud x reader #yungblud imagine #yungblud #yungblud fanfic

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ilikefandoms · 4 years ago

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No way guys, thank you so much! I love you all sm🖤🖤🖤

#200 followers #thank you #i love you

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ilikefandoms · 4 years ago

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yall haven’t written the next chapter of ur fanfic and it really shows

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ilikefandoms · 4 years ago

Photo

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ilikefandoms · 4 years ago

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No one:

My therapist:

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ilikefandoms · 4 years ago

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Justice - Gang!Dominic Harrison pt.1

Pt.2

Summary - After Dom dies in a drug drop off gone wrong: it’s your turn to track down his killer.

Pronouns used - She/Her

A/N - I sorta based it off of how I imagine the song Teresa. This will be a multiple part story x

Warnings - Gangs, mentions of drugs, death,

Word Count - 1,251

“Do you have to go?”

“You know I do baby, it’s my job,” Dom looked at you, a sympathetic smile adorned on his face, as he slipped on his leather jacket.

It wasn’t like Dom hadn’t been given this job to do a hundred times before - hell, he’d done much more dangerous things in his time in the gang, but every time you still got worried.

“I know, but... I just don’t want you to get hurt,” you shrugged, standing up.

Dom turned and embraced you in his arms, resting his chin on the top of your head, “I won’t, okay? It’s nothing I haven’t done before, it’s just a simple drug drop off,” he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, before looking into your eyes, “I’ll be ok,”

“You promise?”

“Promise,” He kissed you, “And if we do get into any trouble, that's what I’ve got this for,” He gestured to the gun tucked into the back of his jeans.

You both stood, swaying on the spot in each other’s arms, Dom kissing you every now and then. It was like you were trying to memorise what it felt like to be with each other. Memorising Dom’s scent: the way his arms wrapped around you.

The doorbell snapped you both out of your trance. “Well, I guess that’s my ride,” Dom said, pulling away, “I’ll be ok, love” he smiled noticing your worried expression, before kissing you.

“I know,” you smiled, stepping back.

“I love you,”

“I love you too,” you replied, watching Dom as he gave you one last small smile, and then walking out the door.

You collapsed on the sofa, curling up into a ball, and taking a deep breath. He’s going to be okay, you thought, switching on the TV to distract yourself, and then eventually falling asleep.

********** You awoke to the sound of knocking on your front door. Dom must’ve left his keys again. “Coming!” you yelled, stretching and standing up.

You opened the front door, “Adam?” you looked around, “Where’s Dom?” you asked. Adam looked at you, a sorry look on his face: it told you everything you needed to know. You shook your head, “No,”

“I’m sorry,”

Tears fell freely from your eyes, “No, no, no. He said he was going to be okay!”

“I’m so sorry Y/N, we got ambushed, the was loads of fighting, we tried to get him out of there, but...” Adam trailed off, tears also welling up in his eyes, “He um - He asked me to give you this, before he...” Adam pulled out an envelope from his back pocket, handing it to you.

You took it from him, looking down, and seeing what was written on the front: Open in case I don’t come back

You looked back at Adam, tears still streaming, embracing him in a hug.

“Do you want me to stay?” he asked.

“No. I - I just think I should be alone right now,”

“Okay. Just make sure to call me if you need anything whatsoever,” he said solemnly, giving you a small smile.

“I will,” you nodded, wiping tears from your face, and giving him one last smile. As soon as you closed the front door, you broke down. Dom wasn’t coming back. He was the love of your life, and now he was just...gone.

It was like your entire world was crashing down right in front of your eyes, and all you could do was watch it burn. Before tonight, the mere thought of losing Dom hurt, but now, you were in absolute agony.

Somehow, you managed to make your way to the sofa, the envelope staring at your from the coffee table, begging you to read it, but you couldn’t. It would be like you were admitting to yourself that he was really gone - that thought scared you: you didn’t want to live your life without him.

Dom needed justice, he needed to be avenged. Maybe then you would finally admit it to yourself, and be able to move on.

You cried until you could not cry anymore tears, and eventually exhaustion took over your body.

You and Dom were walking down the street, hand in hand. You threw your head back, laughing at one of Dom’s lame jokes. You hadn’t been having the best day, so of course, your boyfriend took you out to ease your thoughts.

“Baby?” he said, with a cheeky smile, “Where do animals go when their tail falls off?”

“I don’t know,” you replied.

“To the Retail Store,” he laughed.

You laughed along with him at terrible his joke, “That was so bad it was funny,”

“That’s the beauty of these jokes,” he told you, “They’re just so stupid that they have to make you laugh,”

“Well, they certainly did that,” you smiled, closing your eyes as you kissed him on the cheek.

When your eyes opened, Dom was no-where to be seen, and the once sunny sky was now a pitch black. You began to panic, “Dom!” you shouted “Dom, where are you?”

“Y/N!” you turned to see Dom clutching his stomach, blood staining his t-shirt. He fell to his knees in pain.

“Dom!” you yelled, running over to him, adding pressure to his wound with your hands. Dom’s body leant against yours, breathing heavily, “Baby, it’s okay, you’re going to be fine,” you reassured him, before shouting, “Help! Somebody!”

“I - I love you,” Dom choked out, looking into your eyes. Then, his eyes lost any sign of life in them.

“NO!” you gently shook his limp body, “No, Dom come on, don’t leave me... please, I need you,” You cried, cradling his face. “Who did this to you..?”

Your eyes snapped open, you were covered in cold sweat, you began to hyperventilate. It was just a dream. It wasn’t real... except it was. Dom wasn’t here.

You began to remember the thoughts that you had earlier. You were right. Dom needed some form of avenging, and you needed to be the person to do it. You couldn’t just sit in your otherwise empty house and cry your pain away - you had to bring Dom’s killer to justice. An eye for an eye.

You picked up your phone, before dialling, “Hey Adam,”

“Hey, how are you doing,”

“Pretty shit to be honest,” you told him.

“I can understand that,” he replied.

“Y’know when you said I could call you if I needed anything?”

“Yeah...”

“I need you to come over,”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes,” he hung up.

**********

You let Adam in, sitting down next to him, and started talking, “I need you to help me with something,”

“What?”

“It might be dangerous,” you said.