SPIDERMAN

Hello Panko Shrimps!!

I have made some Timmy wallpapers for anyone who's interested!

Enjoy!!

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STRANGERS FROM HELL

Seo Moon-jo:

You're My Salvation: just a little one-shot of Moon-jo and his sadomasochism. It's kinda fluffy, but also really yandere-ish!

(Romance/Slight Angst/Yandere)

Atonement: Finding out what Moon-jo really does for a living.

(Romance/Yandere)

Overcompensate: Moon-Jo develops a sudden infatuation with Jongwoo's girlfriend.

(Romance/Yandere)

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

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Hey Jade! Can I request anything with shy!reader and Steve please :) I really like your writing <3

steve being a loving dork at a BBQ CW reader hesitates to eat in front of people ♡ fem!shy!reader | 0.9k words

You're sitting on a fold out picnic bench in Steve's backyard. Robin sits next to you with a paper plate full of food. Your stomach rumbles and you look away from her and the BBQ foods she's working her way through, guilty. 

You're super hungry and everything looks good, but you can't make yourself go up to the buffet table. You'd rather die than go to the grill. Steve's parents are hosting and there's loads of people here you don't know, your age and otherwise. Too many people.

"Robin!" Nancy calls from the pool. "Come on!" 

Robin grins at her friend and clambers onto long legs, shucking her food behind you. You watch her go and then look at the wood between your spread knees. 

You feel out of place. 

Almost as soon as she's gone someone's sitting in her grave. You don't look up in case it's someone you don't know, and the back of a warm hand strokes your arm. 

"Hey," Steve says. "Everything okay?" 

You drag your eyes from the bench to his face. He's so pretty it burns, worse than the unrelenting summer sun above, and you can't look at him for long. 

"Yeah," you tell his collarbones. 

"Don't believe you even slightly." His hand strokes again, up the bare length of your arm to the tiny short sleeve of your thin t-shirt. "Listen," he murmurs, softer, soft enough that you meet his eyes. He smiles at you encouragingly. "Are you hungry?" 

"No," you say.

His eyebrows narrow almost imperceptibly, a tiny wrinkle between them that you want to smooth away. 

"Come up to the buffet with me anyway? I want corn on the cob. And a hot dog. And, like, a burger. Cheeseburger?" 

He pokes your thigh with both index fingers until you can't help but smile at him.  

You follow him up to the buffet and you're unsurprised when he shoves a paper plate into your hands. This is fine. This is what you wanted. Still, it feels weird. Awkward, even, to plate food up for yourself. How much are you allowed to take? Is it rude to take lots of one thing?

Steve watches your hesitation out of the corner of his eye. 

"You like these, right?" he asks, pointing to a glass dishware with a pair of tongs in his hand. 

"Yeah," you say weakly. 

Steve starts plating you up. He points to a plate, raises his eyebrows and waits for you to nod. He sees the light in your eyes when you come across your favourite dessert and picks up a new plate to give you a very generous serving, giggling boyishly when you protest. 

Back under the safety of the umbrella you nibble at things happily whilst Steve demolishes a cheeseburger. 

He chases his mouthful with a huge swig of coke. "Feel better?" he asks.

"Sorry," you say, and wince. 

Steve wipes his hand dry on one of the napkins between you and reaches over to squeeze your thigh, the other still dedicated to his coveted cheeseburger. His fingertips feel hotter than his palm. They knead the soft dough of your inner thigh kindly. 

"Eat your food, babe." 

You eat until you're full and wipe your face with your napkin. Steve has turned so his back is to the table, sipping his coke and watching over the kids in the pool with a distinct yet reluctant maternal gaze. 

"Do you wanna swim?" he asks, lolling his head to you lazily. It's more than charming. 

"You can't swim after you eat. It's an unspoken rule." 

"I'll keep an eye on you. I'm, like, a certified lifeguard, you know?" 

You glance at the pool. Everyone is having fun, but…

"I'm okay by here," you say. 

Steve holds his hand out palm up and wriggles his fingers until you take it. When you do he clasps it with the other hand and holds them to his stomach. 

"That's fine. Whatever you wanna do." 

"Steve… if you wanna go swim you don't have to stay with me. You shouldn't," you say softly. 

"I want to sit with you." He rubs a hand down your arm absentmindedly. "If you want me to do things with you-" his eyes dart to the buffet, "you only have to ask." 

You feel an embarrassed heat wash over you. 

"I actually really like doing things with you. That's, like, my favourite thing," he continues, tone lightening.

"Stop flirting with me," you deflect. 

His laugh is barking. Loud and rough, he smiles and looks down at your lap and then back to your face, chuckling. "Can't help it." 

Suddenly, his face goes strange. Concerned. You feel your hackles rise, especially when he pulls one of his hands away from yours, a clear trepidation lining his features. 

"What?" you ask worriedly. 

Steve brings his fingertips to his mouth and licks it quickly. "Tsssss," he says, pressing it to your shoulder. "Oh, baby, you're hot." 

His feigned concern is so genuinely believable that it takes you a good ten seconds to realise he's still flirting with you. You choke on air, flustered beyond words. 

His winning smile is so handsome you can't find it in yourself to be mad. 

"Cool down in the pool with me?" you ask him eventually, a poorly constrained smile playing across your lips. 

He beams and almost leaps across the bench to kiss your cheek. 

Roses

JK X Reader Oneshot

⚠️ Warnings: slight swearing, angst ⚠️

"What the fuck do you want from me, Kook?"

"You still use my nickname."

"Must've been a slip of the tongue."

Jungkook held his bouquet of roses that he had picked up from the store for you down by his side; no longer enthusiastic to come see you today. He was beginning to think this whole thing was hopeless. He knew he messed up, and that his actions weren't fair to you, but he wanted you back. Needed you back. You're all he ever thought about and the nights spent alone in his apartment with your side of the bed cold wasn't sitting right with him. He missed the way you guys would snuggle, the way you would spend mornings together, and the nights after work when both of you seemingly collapsed into each other's arms due to fatigue. He missed it all.

But he screwed up. Big time.

And now he was dealing with the consequences.

He anxiously tapped his foot as he prepared himself for the words that were going to come out of your mouth. The words he knew he would have to stop avoiding and face head-on. The words he knew that would ruin everything he didn't already.

"It's over, Jeon."

And there it was.

How would one put into words the description of a broken heart? It's the worst feeling in the world. It's like finding out someone you loved just died, and in a way....they did. At least a part of Jungkook did. He could hear the metaphorical shatter of his heart ring through his ears as finally accepted that you were serious. Things weren't okay. They got worse and then it ended. That was it.

No more car rides, no more carousels at amusement parks. No more shared coffees and dances in the rain. No more late night talks and hugs. No more love. No more you.

And it was all his fault.

Jungkook dropped the roses and walked out the door.

And that was the last time he heard your voice.

This is just a little oneshot I wrote because I was listening to a sad BTS playlist 😭 If this does well, I can always write this into a longer fic, just let me know! Thanks for reading

watching stranger things isn’t enough, i need to makeout with steve harrington in the back of his car

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The Cake Attack of ‘87

a/n: this is just a short fluffy relationship fic. also I currently have 666 followers and thought that was neat. Thank u to anyone that reads this and enjoys it.

w/c: 1,350

pairing(s): boyfriend!steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: Steve is excited to be throwing his best friend a surprise birthday party. Unfortunately, his friends are idiots and he ends up with a face full of cake. Good thing his girlfriend is there.

warnings: sort of curse words, idk if the word i used is considered cursing but jic. soft girlfriend and boyfriend type beat

It was Robin Buckley’s 19th birthday and Steve was far too excited to throw his best friend her very first surprise party. He had been running around Hawkins, sneakily buying bags of party streamers and quietly shoving helium balloons into his car, all week. You were in charge of getting all the food; pastries, chips, the cake. This was a very important task, something Steve continued to emphasize, because it’s not really a birthday party without the birthday cake. He also kept telling you that he trusts you with this very important mission because you’re the person he trusts the most, which is a load of crap. You’re just the only other person with a license that doesn’t drive like a maniac.

Steve was on a kitchen chair in the middle of the living room when you walked into his house. His cheeks were flushed, pieces of tape between his lips, as he attempted to stick purple streamers to the ceiling.

“Hey, Stevie.” You walked over to his kitchen and put the cake down with the other sweets. There were plates full of cupcakes and cookies on the counter. A myriad of drinks and bags of chips. Maybe Steve had gone a little above and beyond considering the amount of people coming but honestly, it was really sweet.

“Hey, sweetheart. Got the cake?” You walked back into the living room where he was trying to get a mess of tape off his hand. The chair he was on wobbling a little as he flailed his arms. You sped walked over to him and grabbed his hand, gently peeling the pieces of tape off his hand. “Thank you.” He mumbled, stepping off the seat and planting a kiss on your forehead.

“Of course, one vanilla birthday cake.” You reached down for his hand, pulling him into the kitchen with you. The white cardboard box, with the words ‘Giovanni’s Bakery’ spread across the top, sat nicely among the other treats “You know, I think this is very nice of you.” You wrapped your arms around his torso, looking up at him. “You’re the best friend a girl could ask for, babe.”

A wide smirk spread across his face. “Yeah? Am I the best boyfriend a girl could ask for?”

“Well….”

“(y/n).”

“Yes, Steve.” You rolled your eyes playfully. “You’re the best boyfriend anyone could ask for.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Steve’s smirk was replaced by a big dumb grin. He brought you in for a kiss, hand on the back of your head.

The doorbell rang throughout the house, immediately followed with incessant knocking. “C’mon, Harrington! It’s hot out here.” Eddie’s voice was slightly muffled by the door. Dustin’s voice not far behind.

“Yeah, open up.”

-

Robin had been sufficiently surprised. Actually, when she walked through the door and everyone yelled out, she threw her water bottle at the nearest child. Mike was winded for a few seconds but got over it quickly.

“Awww Stevie, you did this all for me?” Robin’s arm was flung around your shoulders as she spoke. She was making light of the situation but her heart felt so full. No one had ever done something so nice for her. There aren’t a lot of moments when Steve and Robin tell each other how much they care for one another and this felt like Steve’s way of saying just that.

“Oh yeah, you should’ve seen him.” You slid your arm around Robin’s waist. “He was a decoration fiend. Driving around, car full of balloons.”

“You’re both annoying.” Steve rolled his eyes with absolutely no real annoyance. There was nothing he loved more than watching you get along with your shared friends.

You weren’t originally part of the group. When Steve asked you to officially be his girlfriend, he was actually quite nervous about introducing you to his friends. He was so scared they would run you off. His anxiety proved to be unnecessary because you were welcomed with open arms by everyone. Even Max was a fan. “Whatever, happy birthday, nerd.”

“Yeah, happy birthday, Robs.” You kissed her cheek. “Oh! The cake. We must abide by tradition and awkwardly sing happy birthday.” You clapped your hands and excitedly went to go grab the cake. Steve started gathering everyone, herding them to the kitchen table. The cake was now on a pretty crystal stand. You were very careful, gently putting it down on the table in front of everyone. There were unlit candles on the top of the sweet dessert. “Right, we need to light those. I’ll go look for a lighter.”

While you were in the kitchen, rummaging through drawers you heard some loud chattering immediately followed by a thud. You rushed back to where everyone was standing. All of them looking very guilty. Your beautiful boyfriend was standing in the middle of everyone, face covered in vanilla frosting, large chunks of sponge cake littered around his hair. Robin and Eddie were standing to the side, neither of them able to meet your eyes. Both of them clearly the culprits behind the cake attack. You would have to deal with them later.

“Baby, what have they done to you?” You scraped some frosting off his eyelids so he could finally open them. He still couldn’t really open his eyes, squinting to be able to look down at you.

“Just point me in their direction so I can kill them.”

“No murder right now, tiger.” You intertwined your fingers, carefully leading him up the stairs. “Gotta get you cleaned up first.”

-

In the bathroom upstairs Steve was sitting on the closed toilet, your hand holding his face still. You were wiping his face clean with a moist towel, trying your absolute best to be as gentle as possible, not wanting to irritate his skin. His hand was on the back of your thigh, softly rubbing circles with his thumb. He was looking up at you, adoration clear in his eyes. The moment was so sweet, it filled his heart with pure unadulterated happiness.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there to stop the hooligans.” You picked a particularly large piece of sponge cake out of his hair.

“It’s alright, better me than you, sweetheart.” He put his hand on your hip and shot you a wink.

“Alright, Romeo.” You scoffed, trying your best to get all the frosting out of perfect hair. “Want me to just wash your hair, babe?”

“Please.” Steve pouted, loving all the attention you were giving him. He was usually trying his best to take care of everyone around him so he was taking full advantage of the situation.

-

Steve was then sitting on a chair that he had dragged into the bathroom, his head on the cold marble of the bathroom sink. A really uncomfortable position, but he’s not complaining, not when he has your fingers in his hair. The anger he had felt earlier when Eddie and Robin pushed his face into the cake completely gone now.

“I’m a little scared that they’re down there by themselves.” You said, sitting down on his lap as you rinsed the suds out of his hair. Gently kneading the last bits of cake out.

“Baby, in this moment I don’t really care.” His eyes were closed, just enjoying the feeling of your magic fingers expertly massaging his head. “They can break whatever they want.”

He was being serious. He loved how you took care of him; you were so attentive and caring. Steve had always felt clingy in his relationship with Nancy, and you never made him feel that way. You both loved each other and cared for each other, he was finally happy. Nancy might’ve been his first love but you were his great love, he was sure of it.

A crash was heard from downstairs, making you both jump. “(y/n) it wasn’t me I swear!” You heard Lucas call up the stairs.

You sighed and rested your head on Steve’s shoulder. He was laughing.

“I don’t know why you’re laughing; this is your house.”

You felt his laugh come to a stop. “Those little shits.”

tag list: @johnricharddeaky @slashersluttt @slurmp69

AMERICAN HORROR STORY

Tate Langdon:

Young Love: The sweetness of the rain allows for the feelings of love. Just some fluffy Tate :)

(Romance/Fluff)

Together Forever: Tate isn't letting you go now that he has you within his grasp. You're his and he'll do anything to remind you of that. Even if it means your death.

(Romance/Angst/Yandere)

Got Something of Mine, Harrington?

Billy Hargrove X Reader x Steve Harrington

You decide to take Steve up on his offer to hang out in hopes that you can rekindle the part of you that still believed in love. What happens when your ex decides to show up and claim you're his?

⚠️ Warnings: mentions of blood, swearing, possessive behavior, toxic relationships, insecurity, past trauma, sexual innuendos, and angst ⚠️

(This is a choose your own adventure type layout, so whether you're rooting for Steve or Billy, you'll be able to read what joining their side would ensue)

It was only supposed to be a fun night with Steve. He had asked you to hang at his place once he saw that you had finally broken up with that shitty boyfriend of yours, trying to provide you with comfort and a good time. Steve was handsome, sure. But he had made his move a bit too fast after things had gone south with Billy. His charming smile and light touches had drawn you into all that he had to offer and who could say no to how sweet he had been? Exchanged glances from opposite ends of the room and notes passed back and forth, it was only a matter of time before Steve waltzed into your life and tried to sweep you off your feet. You only wished the circumstances could've been different.

Steve lived in the upper end of Hawkins; the richer and snobbier folks in town who listened to baseball games on the radio and held monthly barbeques. The houses were all lined up in a nice row with a patch of grass in between them with white picket fences and gardens that belonged on the front pages of magazines. Steve's house was further down the cul-de-sac and was the only one that had a lawn so big that a fence would look obnoxious around it. A bright blue house with white shudders and a white door to match, it looked picturesque and almost fake as though it were made out of clay. Apparently, the Harringtons had big hair and even bigger egos.

Knocking on his front door, you nervously tap your shoes against each other as you wait for him to open it and let you in. You took a couple glances around the perimeter of his house, still not fully used to being out on your own. Your dress was slightly provocative, but it was one of your favorites. Your ex had refused you the right to show it off to anyone other than him, one of the many bullets on the long list of his red flags chalked up in your mind. You had never been able to wear it out before, so this would be the first time anyone had seen it. The thought of Steve complimenting you on it filled your stomach with butterflies- dating again was going to be fun.

"Hey! There you are!" Steve opened up the door and smiled. The warm yellow light streamed down from the foyer and onto the front steps you were standing on. Almost immediately, the night felt more inviting and friendly as you basked in it, taking note of how wonderfully it shone onto the pavement below. Only when Steve shifted towards the frame to lean against it did you notice how he looked tonight. He was wearing a nice black button up with dark jeans. His hair had been tossed into a perfect spiral and you could smell the fresh products he'd used to style it. He looked really nice. A happy feeling took root in the pit of your stomach and encouraged you to follow him inside.

"Hey!" You said, throwing the enthusiasm back at him. As he led you towards the kitchen, you noticed just how nice the interior of the Harrington household was. It totally matched the modern exterior as there were abstract looking paintings hanging everywhere and the walls were painted grey. His floors were freshly cleaned too, sparkling tiles that refracted the light throughout the room. The entryway connected to the very yellow kitchen that was decorated with floral paraphernalia. Stepping further you noticed a picture of Steve hanging on the wall from middle school and you suppressed a laugh at how ridiculous it looked.

"Oh no! I forgot to take that down." Steve laughed and covered up the picture with his hands, giving you a dorky apologetic look. You laughed too, finding his impulsive embarrassment to be cute.

"It's okay, I think little Steve would be pleased to know that his hair gets better once he hits highschool." You said, earning another laugh from the boy in front of you. He pushed his hands into his pockets and a wave of expensive and good-smelling cologne filled your senses. If you had any doubts about being out tonight, they were gone now as you realized the awkwardness was mutual.

"May I set your jacket down somewhere?" He asked, reaching for the leather that rested upon your shoulders. You smiled, shrugging the heavier fabric off and allowing for him to grab it.

"Woah." He said, taking in the dress you were wearing.

Instant panic filled your vision as you realized you probably went overboard with the outfit. He was dressed so casually yet so elegant that you forgot that you went straight for something a little more formal than what one would wear drinking a couple of beers and sitting by the edge of a backyard pool. "Oh! Sorry, I know it's a lot I just haven't done this in a while and I got excit-"

"-Its perfect." He said, looking at you from top to bottom and then back to your eyes as the corner of his mouth turned up in a suggestive but polite way.

There was an unusual but comfortable silence for a moment before he cleared his throat and motioned his head towards the back. "The pool is behind the house. If you still wanted to go swimming."

You held out your hand for Steve to take and gave him a quick nod. "Absolutely."

He grinned at you and allowed you to lead him outside the kitchen door towards the inground pool. Night had fallen not too long ago and the stars shimmered down on the water below them, the lights from the inside of it reflected the small waves all over the deck. It was pretty and calming and you couldn't help but run your hand through it a couple of times, testing out the temperature. It was fairly warm considering how the night had started to cool down.

"I'm going to grab a couple beers. Would you like one?" Your date asks, smiling down at what you were preoccupied with. You looked back up at him and noticed how pleased he was with your sudden infatuation with the water grazing your fingertips. His eyes were bright and happy and his posture was awkward but confident and you were unsure how those adjectives could exist at the same time for the same human.

"Yes, please." You said, going back to the water and waving your hand around. Once Steve had left, you decided to take off your dress and shoes since your swimsuit was underneath. You had chosen a red bikini for this particular occasion, grinning at the mischievous idea now that Steve had confirmed your dress wasn't too revealing. You decided to wait with your feet in the pool and allowed yourself to take a deep breath and enjoy the silence of Hawkins. The crickets chirping and the cicadas were the only thing to be heard for miles and it was perfect. You could get used to this.

Except you wouldn't be able to. You tried so hard to let things go and to do what's best for you only for that plan to backfire every time you put your mental health first. It was impossible to let yourself go and enjoy just one night free of anxiety and intrusive thoughts. You knew from the moment you heard the Camaro pull up to the front of the house that everything would be ruined; of course you couldn't have started a relationship with anyone new when Billy still believed you belonged to him.

Jumping up and sprinting towards the door, you run inside to see Steve standing with two beers. "Uh is everything okay?" He asked, staring at you with concern. He seemed shocked to see you run in only for him to become somewhat lost when he looked at what it was you were wearing. "Damn...uh...okay we can go there." He said, not taking the cue from you that your rush to the kitchen was because you wanted to warn him what- or rather who- was coming. Your eyes widened in fear and you looked to the front door which was abruptly opened by the devil himself.

Swinging on its hinges and hitting the wall with a forceful hit, the front door was thrown back so harshly that if there was any confusion about who was visiting so late at night it was gone now. Dark red button up with a similar leather jacket to the one you came in with and black jeans, he looked just as terrifying and handsome as you remembered. A cigarette was placed between his lips and an earring shone from his left ear. He smiled that horrible shit-eating grin as he leaned against the doorframe and took a drag of his cigarette before stomping it out on Steve's pretty floor tiles. "Got something of mine, Harrington?" He asked in his gruff and raspy voice that was all too familiar to you.

You looked at Steve in fear and saw that his eyebrows had furrowed and his jaw clenched. He set down the beers on the island before crossing his arms and looking to you and then to Billy. "What the hell's going on here?" He asked, moving to your side; his stance instantly became defensive.

Billy, however, stood calm as ever as if he didn't just barge into a classmate's house at almost midnight. His hair had been slicked back on the sides into the mullet he usually wore it in and his sunglasses were among the mess of golden curly locks as they sat atop his head. He checked you out and whistled before turning to your date with a disgusted look. "Getting naked for another man, baby?" He asked, taking notice of the suimsuit you had on. Your blood boiled. It wasn't fair for him to do this. Not after how he had treated you by forcing you to go to parties of people you hated just so you could sit on his arm and look pretty. Not after he had denied your attempts at trying to love him via physical affection and only wanting you when he felt like it. Not after you had seen just how horribly he treated the kids Steve loved so dearly.

Standing next to Steve, you felt him pull you behind him as he moved to stand in front of you. He rolled up the sleeves to his shirt and looked Billy dead in the eyes. "Got a problem with that Hargrove?" He asked. The minute the words left his mouth you knew he was dead. Not only that, but he had just paid the bill for his coffin and nailed it shut.

Billy laughed and placed his hands in his jeans. "Yeah, I've got a fucking problem with that."

It was as if a switch had been flipped and Billy's confident and fake friendly demeanor changed as he charged towards Steve, pushing his chest forcefully offering to fight over you. Steve pushed back and spit down at the floor.

"Guys. Stop. Billy, you broke up with me a week ago. Fuck off." You said, now becoming more confident and standing in front of Steve to try and save him from your ex.

"So? That was last week. I say you're mine this week." He smiled and shoved you to the ground, pushing you into the picture of Steve. The glass frame shattered and you tried to brace your fall with your hands. This turned into being the worst course of action possible and you were left with deep open gashes along your arms and hands.

"Look what you fucking did to my girl, Harrington." Billy said, walking over to the island and taking a swig of one of the beers. Steve shoved himself into the intruder, punching his face with all of his might and a crack resounded throughout the echoey hallways of the Harrington residence. Billy recoiled slightly, putting his hands up as a trickle of blood ran down from his now broken nose.

"Looks like you've got some fire in you after all, King Steve." Billy said with another fake smile before throwing Steve to the ground and stomping on his hand. You heard his fingers crunch under Billy's boots and he winced in pain, yelling out a curse word before forcing himself back up, clutching his bruised fingers and staring daggers into Billy's eyes.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" Steve angrily shouted and grabbed a decorative plate out of one of the cabinets in the kitchen, holding it ready at his side to chuck at Billy's head if he needed to.

"What's wrong with me is the fact that you're trying to fuck my girlfriend." He said, moving in towards Steve and wiping his blood on the back of his arm. He put on his tough guy persona with a stance that would instantly turn away even the best of fighters.

"I. Am. Not. Your. Girlfriend." You said, standing up. In the time that Steve and Billy had been arguing, you had enough time to evaluate that your wounds weren't horrible. You had a couple cuts on your feet to match the ones on your hands and arms but other than that, you were fine. You would tell Billy off even with detrimental wounds if it meant saving Steve.

"What was that?" Billy asked, putting a hand behind his ear and pretending as though he couldn't hear what it was you were trying to tell him. So, you told him again.

"I said that I'm not your fucking girlfriend."

Nodding and pursing his lips, he grabs Steve by the collar and throws a punch to his stomach which sends him hurtling to the floor. He grabbed at his abdomen in pain before picking up the plate and chucking it at your ex. It hit him square in the head and you saw a gash starting to form above his eye. Blood dripped down from said gash, travelling down his temple and working its way towards his neck.

"Whoo!" He said, feeling the rush of adrenaline that came with fighting for you. When he had broken up with you -although he would never admit it- it was because he felt as though he wasn't good enough for you. Every word his father had told him had started to take root in his mind and swayed his decisions over whom he felt he was worthy of. But oh, he loved you so much. He wanted the best for you but he never knew how to express it. He wanted more nights like the one where he first opened up to you while the two of you were in his bed, staring up at the posters on the ceiling. He wanted to hold your hands again and remind you of all the reasons he saw you to be the most beautiful human being. It wasn't fair that you had to put up with him, he knew. But there was no way on earth he would ever let you end up with a guy like Harrington.

"Billy, Stop!" You yelled, trying to grab onto his arm only to be shoved out of the way once more. Steve had gotten another plate and threw it, this time missing Billy and sending it hurtling towards the wall behind the two of you. The ceramic shattered and joined the mess of the picture frame.

"I'll stop if you agree to come with me." Billy said, holding Steve by the shirt again with his head facing towards you. He couldn't lose you again. Not this time. Even with all of the thoughts that had driven him away from continuing to be with you, he knew that you were his only solace. And he knew he needed that back more than anything else.

...

(At this point in the story, there are two alternate endings, one where you side with Steve and one where you side with Billy.)

...

Choice one: Billy

You glanced towards Steve with the best apologetic look you could muster. It wasn't his fault that he had ended up in this situation and he had tried his best to defend you. It wasn't fair to him for this fight to continue so you did the best thing you could do to avoid the situation from getting more out of hand. Even if it meant Steve would hate you.

"Okay." You said, agreeing to your now boyfriend again.

"That's what I like to hear." He said, removing his hands from Steve and sauntering towards you, harshly grabbed your arms so he could see how badly you were hurt. He did a once-over before he took off his shirt and wrapped it around the arm that was bleeding heavier than the other one. Then, without a word he snaked his arm around your waist and led you out the front door towards his car that was parked haphazardly out front.

You turned your head slightly to see if Steve would follow you but he didn't. Part of you was thankful that he didn't since it would only lead to another unnecessary fight. The other part of you wished he would.

"Don't look back at him." Billy said, tone firm but less harsh as before. "You're mine."

Everything felt like it was crumbling around you. The night you spent with Steve and the relationship you were thrown back into was enough to get your heart racing even faster than before. You could feel some sort of anxiety attack take over every other emotion of yours as you tried your best to push it down and not to show Billy. His shirt was still wrapped around your cut and you could feel some of the blood start to soak through the fabric, trying to keep your mind on the sensation and not the events of tonight.

Getting into the car, you take your usual place in the passenger seat, eyes downwards. You let everything play through your head over and over until it was just too much and you could feel tears threatening to spill out over your cheeks.

"Hey." You heard your boyfriend say, placing his hand on your thigh when he saw that you were crying. His entire demeanor changed once again and it was starting to play tricks on your mind as you didn't know what side of him was real and what was for show. He was always like this.

"Hm?" Was all you were able to respond with, shoulders slumped.

"I love you. You know that, right? I wouldn't let you end up with some shitty playboy like him." He said, running his hand alongside your face and collecting your tears as he went. He was being so gentle now, you wondered if you had made up the entirety of your date.

"He-He's not like that."

Revving his engine, Billy puts one hand on the wheel and places the other around the back of your seat.

"Sure." Is all he says as he pulls out of the driveway and down the road to his house where he knows he'll be able to watch you. Just as you were about to turn the corner to leave the cul-de-sac, you caught a glimpse of Steve Harrington- former King of Hawkins High -standing outside on his front doorstep with a beer in one hand and an ice pack in the other.

Oh how you wished you could've stayed with him.

...

Choice Two: Steve

"In your fucking dreams, Hargrove." You said confidently, grabbing a knife off the counter and pointing it towards him in a threatening manner. "I'll slit your throat if you touch him again."

Billy grinned and let Steve fall to the floor as the boy clutched his stomach in pain. Walking towards you, he smiled with an antagonizing gaze. "Oh yeah? Is that a promise, girly?"

"Call me that one more time and I'll run you over in that shitty Camaro of yours." Not knowing where this spunk was hidden within you all this time, you held up the blade to your ex boyfriend in a menacing way, looking towards Steve who was still wounded on the floor. 

"Damn!" Billy said, leaning against the wall and watching your date on the ground taking his deep breaths to alleviate some of the pain. "You're feisty today."

"You fucking ruined my date. What did you expect? A kiss on the lips and full compliance?"

He glared down at you with such intensity you thought he was going to kill you. You'd only ever seen that look once and that was when he had the fight with his dad in front of you. That day you had seen what Billy truly lived through and that memory alone was what allowed you to keep persevering through your relationship, convincing yourself that anything he did to wrong you was because he didn't know any better. Because he had gone through so much pain. Crawling over to Steve, you lift him up off the ground ever so slightly as you pull him into your lap to assess the damage. He wasn’t in horrible shape, but he definitely couldn’t take another hit to the abdomen and still feel well enough to attend classes the next day. 

“(Y/N). Move away from him please. You’re only making things more difficult.” Billy said, leaning down to your level and staring you directly in the eyes. Things were different this time. His usual puppy dog gaze wasn’t enough to get you to fold and bend under his will, giving into whatever he so desired. The times when you would hold his face in between your hands and whisper sweet nothings into his ear even after he had treated you with a disrespect you didn’t think to be possible. The last time you would ever see this side of him again would be tonight. 

In a firm but stern voice you glare at him with the same unshakable intensity. 

“No.”

And with that, Billy nodded and placed his hands in his jean pockets, getting up and straightening himself out. He looked sad in a way, seeing you on the floor with Harrington whom he’d hated so much until this moment. Billy didn’t lose easily, but he trusted you. If you decided this guy was enough to satisfy you in the ways he never could, he would finally leave you be.

“I loved you, (Y/N).” 

You felt frozen in time, not able to say anything else to the man before you. He was just a stranger who held a lot of memories, someone whom you would always share stories with but someone whom you would forget as the days dragged on. You wanted so badly to reach out for his arm and to urge him to stay, to allow him to come waltzing back into your life. But you knew you deserved better. You knew he deserved better. 

“Thank you.” You said, as you heard Steve’s door slam shut for the last time that night. Then, you attended to Steve’s wounds as you wondered what would’ve happened had you rekindled the relationship you had with Billy. 

And you knew deep down that you made the right choice. 

Cloud 9

TASM X Reader

Danger happens to find you on a night out, how will you manage to save yourself? Or will an unexpected encounter save you?

⚠️ Warnings: swearing, mentions of sexual violence, violence⚠️

"Hey you wacko," you said, hopping up beside your best friend on the cold metal bleachers of the school. The coolness of your seat was a nice contrast against the sunny 75° weather of New York City. It has been nice all week, transitioning from spring to summer and the harsh snow finally ending. You were thankful you didn't have to wear that bulky jacket anymore, and instead you found yourself wearing a light sweater and black ripped jeans. To top it off, you had your favorite pair of converse.

"Hey," he said, scooting closer to where you were seated and turning his computer to your direction, "What do you think of this interface?"

Looking at what Peter had coded on his laptop, you responded, "Your interface is fine, but you forgot to turn the Option Explicit on at the top." You smiled, knowing that you were right since you both took the same programming class.

"Ahhhh thanks! That's probably why it popped up with so many errors," he said, ruffling his floppy brown hair and pushing up his glasses, "God, I hate working with Visual Basic."

"Same here." You sighed, turning your direction to the sky above you instead of looking at the ongoing football game. It was a pretty orange color since it was after school hours. You usually didn't leave your house this late, but Peter had insisted you meet up with him at this particular football game on a Friday nonetheless. Peter also hated sports. So what was the deal?

You turned to say something to him but your breath instantly caught in your throat. He was staring intently at his computer, his glasses falling off his face and his hair a mess. He was chewing on his tongue and he looked extremely nerdy but extremely cute.

It surprised you, thinking this way of your best friend all of a sudden.

I mean, it's not like you haven't before.

There was that time in gym class where he'd lifted his hoodie off and you caught a glimpse of his toned abdomen. And that time when you had both traveled to Chicago for the Academic Decathlon trip and he had shared a room with you. Or that time-

"Whatcha thinking about?" He asked, now focused solely on you and your response. He had a knowing smile on his face and it was one that you often found yourself fancying. His eyes got all squinty as he knew what you were probably thinking. He thought the same about you sometimes, he just didn't know how to initiate the right words. He thought you would've picked it up by now that you were being flirted with, but I guess school smarts aren't the equivalent of emotional intelligence, as you were still clueless to his intentions.

"Your doofus looking project." You said, hoping to deflect the conversation back to his homework.

"You're unnecessarily mean." He smiled

"Or I'm just right as always." You smiled back.

Just then, you heard a fast wooshing noise, the sound of something being projectile thrown at you. Before it had time to make contact with your jaw, Peter flung himself in front of you, catching the stray football with one hand.

"Holy shit," you said, "nice catch."

Except Peter didn't look ecstatic over his skills. He looked genuinely terrified. Of what, you didn't know.

"Are you okay?" He asked, his voice fluctuating from his timidness over catching the ball. He threw it towards the goal post, and you watched as the ball collided with the metal and dented it.

"Peter?! What the hell? How did you dent that?" You asked, absolutely astonished with what just happened before your eyes. Your mouth open and your hair flying away from your face, Peter knew he had to go before he messed something else up- and potentially risked exposing his identity.

"Sorry, I have to go." He said, hurriedly stuffing his computer with his unfinished project into his backpack and grabbing his other miscellaneous papers that had flown out of his folders. He nodded towards you and practically ran to get off the bleachers.

"Peter! Wait!" You said, trying to grab your stuff as well. "Why did you want to meet up?!"

Your question went unanswered as you looked over the side of the bleachers where your best friend had just been except now there was no one there. It was as if he had disappeared without a trace when you had directed your attention towards your bag.

"What the hell was that?" You wondered.

🕸️🕸️🕸️

Peter was scrambling. He had finally worked up the courage to tell you how he felt but of course, his stupid new power messed things up. He couldn't let you know he was Spiderman, that would ruin everything and potentially put you in danger. What if you didn't like what he was? What if an enemy knew you were his weak spot and went after you? What if-

He ran into his front door.

"Ow." He said, rubbing his forehead. He shouldn't have gotten so lost in his thoughts. He felt bad about having to swing out of the situation (literally) and leave you by yourself to watch the game. Today didn't go at all how he'd planned it in his head.

He threw his backpack down by his nightstand and flipped down on the bed, not even bothering to say hello to his Aunt May. Things have been different now that Uncle Ben was dead and he didn't think he could listen to any more of her grieving. Sighing, he took off his jacket and turned on the computers at his desk, looking at his wallpaper of you and him from when you had a food fight.

You had surprised him by visiting him late at night when you guys were sophomores, your cute little cardigan on and your hair all curled up just to tell him you wanted to stream Donnie Darko on his tv since he had the best picture quality.

Deciding not to argue, he smiled and led you to the living room, where he watched you excitedly fix the tv in preparation for the movie night. Feeling as though he wasn't helping enough, he asked if you wanted a snack.

You said yes and he decided he was going to make you some popcorn but you had insisted on peanut butter and jelly.

You popped open the peanut butter and started to spread it on your choice of bread, the sun finally setting and casting an illuminesent orange on your figure. Peter had just walked into the kitchen after finalizing the movie plans and stopped in the doorframe. Your hair looked like something out of a magazine, your skin looking as shiny as honey and your aura lighting up the entire room. He felt himself glued to the spot, feeling an ache in his chest as he watched you do the simple task of making a sandwich. It felt as though time had stopped and he wondered why he ever settled on seeing you in a friendly way. The image before him was nothing short of a revelation as he finally came to term with his senses:

He was irrevocably in love with you.

You smiled and stared at him from where you made your spot in the yellow kitchen. "Want some?" You asked.

"I- yeah." He said, walking towards you.

"Perfect." You said, and while he was still in his daze, you put your finger in the peanut butter jar and rubbed it on his face. Giggling, you ran away towards the other end of the counter as you watched him reach up to his face and rub it off.

"Oh you're in for it now." He said, getting some of the snack on his hands and running after you. You yelped in excitement and ran away from him, first towards the left of the counter and then the right as he finally caught up to you and grabbed you from behind your waist. Both of you laughing, he rubs the peanut butter on your face and sits you down on the ground.

"You're such a sore loser," you said, punching him on the shoulder between fits of laughter.

If there was any denial about his previous thoughts of love, there wasn't any now. It was clear and he knew you belonged there in his arms, laughing in the warmth of the sun.

Peter recalled the fond memory and felt himself smiling, reaching up to the spot on his face that had been touched by you. That entire moment had led him to making a shitty playlist of love songs that would keep the memory alive and him listening to it for the entire week after. Since then, his head has been filled with you and only you. And some math and quantum theory, but mainly you.

🕸️🕸️🕸️

You had decided to go out with your friends tonight. They wanted to visit this café not too far away from the school, and they wanted to dress up, since it was a nicer place. The agenda was casual nice and you found yourself struggling to look through your closet and find something suitable. You did dress fancy, but you wanted to find something new to wear; something they hadn't seen you in yet. Going towards the back of your wardrobe, you saw a beat up looking box. Perfect! It was one of your old cardigans. Last time you wore it was....

....when you rubbed peanut butter on Peter's face. You cringed slightly at the memory. That day you wanted to confess your feelings for him, but you decided to break the awkward silence when you saw him walk into the kitchen. Truth is, when you saw him standing there in the doorway with the soft angelic glow of the sun hitting his perfectly dorky face, you felt something in your chest. That feeling was the same reason you hadn't accepted any requests for dating, even when one of the most popular boys in your school had asked you on a date. You could only think of one person in that bittersweet romantic way.

And that person just happened to be your best friend.

Sliding on your boots, you walked over to the mirror and looked at your reflection. You looked alright and once you did your hair you would look better.

Walking to your bathroom, you grabbed your curling iron and reevaluated your makeup choice. It was a soft yellow with bold eyeliner. It was just something fun you were trying out, also going so far as to add a couple gems from your scrapbooking stickers. Cool.

You picked up your purse off the floor and stepped out of your apartment.

🕸️🕸️🕸️

Slipping on his suit, Peter readied himself for his journey out in the city. He usually paroled the streets at night when he wasn't swamped with homework in case there was someone who needed his help. It wasn't often that it was more that a quick dispute between friends, or an old lady needing help with groceries, but it still filled him with pride knowing that he could have an impact in some way.

He quickly went downstairs now that Aunt May was asleep and grabbed some fuel food. He scarfed down a banana and went back upstairs, opening his bedroom window and leaving the small confines of his bedroom as he went to go find trouble-or rather- for trouble to find him.

He shot his webs towards the sky. Nothing felt quite like this. The wind hitting his frame and the free falling feeling of flying. He was up higher than the oblivious people beneath him, the cars zooming past his feet and the clouds rolling past his head. Night had just fallen and the moon shone on the glass window panes of the buildings he latched onto. He would push from one end of the building to the other, relying on his webs and his strength to travel through the dark. He felt free.

Stopping atop one of the shorter buildings, he looked at the streets below. Any signs of irregular activity would signal his presence and he would be able to help. Tonight, less people seemed to be wandering the sidewalks and he noticed there was less activity in this particular area. He was about to leave when-

He saw a familiar person.

Was that- was that you? Why were you out so late and what on earth compelled you to walk out at night by yourself? Did you have a death wish? Peter knew you were smarter than that.

"Yeah I should be there in a couple minutes." He heard you say into your phone from below. You seemed rushed and he knew that you had snuck out to see someone, giving him context as to why you were out at this hour. Were you going out on a date? He saw the way you were dressed and the makeup you were wearing. He felt his heart drop a little bit, but he knew that his sole focus should be on making sure you got there safely.

So, watching you from the rooftops, he followed your movements towards one of the newer café establishments that all the kids at school were talking about. He waited for you to walk inside, but you stopped for a second to check through your purse. That was all it took for someone to come up from behind you and put their hand over your mouth.

Feeling adrenaline course through his veins, he had a rage he never knew existed before. You were in trouble, and in desperate need of his help.

🕸️🕸️🕸️

You had decided to check your purse to see if you had put your wallet in it since you didn't feel the familiar weight of it in the back pocket of your jeans. You rummaged through the contents before you were fiercely grabbed from behind, a male figure putting one of their hands over your mouth and the other around your waist. Frozen in shock, he led you to the alley behind the café and threw you to the ground, knocking the wind out of you.

"Hey, pretty lady. Lucky I found you tonight, I need your help."

Your hands fumbled around for the pepper spray that you kept in your purse, wondering where it had fallen on the wet street.

"Looking for this?" He asked, holding up said object as he stared down at you, a horrid smile on his face. He looked to be in his forties, an ugly inconsistent mustache on his upper lip and a dingy looking clothes. He reeked of alcohol and cigarettes and that was the moment you got a complete grasp on your situation: you were in immediate danger.

Jumping up and trying to run away from the man, two other men in rugged states appeared in front of you. You were cornered. There was no way of getting out of this one. Feeling more terrified than ever before, you started to feel tears springing at the corners of your eyes.

"I'm just gonna make this plain and simple." The man who had grabbed you said as he sauntered over to you. "Strip."

Fearing for your life, you froze again. What could you possibly do? You couldn't call your friends, your phone was still in your bag. You could fight, but you knew that you were no match for all three of them. You frantically looked for something- anything -to help you fight them off.

Finding an old wine bottle you grabbed it and hit it against the brick wall of the café. The end of it shattering into twenty pieces, you raised the bottle towards the men in front of you.

"Fucking try me."

Just then, there was a flash of red and the man in front of you was stuck to the café wall. It seemed as though he was pinned by spiderwebs?

The new figure in front of you was tall and slim. He was wearing what seemed to be an intricately designed spandex costume that was red and blue. A large black spider on the front and slanted eyes led you to the conclusion that this was the infamous Spiderman that every news station had been talking about for the past few months.

Just then, Spiderman flung out his arm and more of the web-like substance flowed from his wrist, capturing the men behind you. He then grabbed you and shot the substance upwards, latching onto the rooftop above you and swinging you both over the city.

You held tightly around his neck as you watched the image of the café and the men stuck to it fade in the distance, your eyes now looking at the entirety of New York beneath you. It was beautiful but terrifying as you were so high up.

"I should've killed them." You heard the mystery man mumble under his breath and he landed on the top of another building much farther and much higher than the last one. Your makeup had to be running at this point, you were sure you must've cried from the intensity of the situation.

"I- thank you for saving me back there." You whimpered out, now finally understanding what had just happened. You had gone into fight or flight mode and you weren't sure how well you would've fought down there if it wasn't for the help of the superhero.

Peter felt something in his chest as he watched you look at the sight below. Your makeup had started to run and your hair was out of place. You looked frazzled, but beautiful. Just then, the sun started to come up, signalling the end of the night and the end to this nightmare. The wind picked up slightly and your cardigan followed your hair in a dance against your skin. You held your arms close to your chest and finally met Peter's gaze.

"You-Your'e welcome." Was all he was able to reply with.

You looked away from him, and back to the street, looking down at the scenery below. "I know I just had a near-death experience and that's probably why I have the balls to ask but, why didn't you ask me out on the bleachers today?" You asked, turning to look at your savior once more with a slight smile.

"I was nervous." Peter said but then halted in his tracks. "Oh shit- I mean-"

"It's okay, I knew it was you." You said, walking to where your best friend stood. You wrapped your arms around his torso and pulled him in for a hug.

He melted into your touch, calm knowing that his secret was out and that you didn't think of him differently.

You then reached up to touch his face, grabbing the ends of his mask and staring at him with an 'Is this okay' expression before you lifted it off his head. Without his glasses and his usual dorky demeanor was Peter, whom you've known since the second grade. The same old clumsy looking Peter with that same old goofy grin and floppy hair. You instantly felt calm as you held each other staring into each other's eyes. This was where you belonged. You knew it that day at his house and you knew it now. It hadn't changed even though his identity did.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." You said, stepping away.

Suddenly, a string of that sticky spider web stuff found it's way at your side, pulling you back to Peter.

"Let me make up for earlier." He smiled, kissing you.

It was like a million fireworks lit off in your chest at once. You were finally here. You made it. You weren't expecting your first kiss to be up this high with Spiderman, but you knew it was to be with Peter at some point. You hoped it would be.

The cars honking below and the sun coming up creating an orange and purple and yellow sky illuminated Peter and his face once the two of you pulled away from each other. He looked heavenly, soft angelic features staring down at you with an adoring smile. Your chest felt heavy and your cheeks felt hot and you had to clench your hand into a fist to make sure this was real. As if he heard your thoughts, he pulled you in for another kiss, letting go of your lips and resting his forehead against yours. You listened to the sound of each other's breathing and your heartbeat was going a mile a minute.

"This is real." He said, giving you that typical Peter Parker smile that you loved so much.

Promise pt. 3

PAUL ATREIDES X READER

You were to remain on Arrakis to aid in destroying the Atreides family: a Bene Gesserit trained assassin working for the Harkonnen House. It shouldn't have been hard to kill The Duke Leto's son with your Crysknife, however, love can be messier than blood.

You were unsure when it hit you as to what Paul was truly trying to accomplish. Was it when you were ready to draw your blade or when he looked you dead in the eyes with that godforsaken beautiful expression on his face? It was just unfair how he was able to halt your motions by looking at you; his grey-blue pupils looking brighter than the Arrakian sun as the moons shone down from above. It would've been an easy kill, really. But something told you that your plan wasn't going to work out.

In hesitation, you removed your hand from the hilt of your knife and allowed yourself to be lost in his gaze. Suddenly, he placed his lips on yours. You had heard of kissing before, but only in the books on the old worlds that the Harkonnens had within their library. Never thinking to experience it, you hadn't prepared yourself to combat it. In a way, it was more difficult than going over battle strategies or studying the history of The Imperium.

But to your surprise....you enjoyed kissing Paul.

He slowly moved himself away from you, looking into your eyes to try and get a glimpse of an emotion from you; any emotion at all would suffice. He felt warm as he enveloped himself into the embrace that was your kiss; thinking over and over his actions and pondering the potential consequences of them. Your eyes glimmered with something that he was unable to make out in the dark but he knew it was a ferocity equivalent to anger. But then, everything changed. Your face had softened and your eyes grew slightly wet. To say he was astonished by the fact that you could have any other emotion than coldness was an understatement. But he did know that he wanted to capture that look into his memory for as long as he lived.

And then- the impossible happened. You smiled.

"Paul..." Before you could get another word out, his lips were upon yours again, this time more feverishly. Your fingers intertwined in his hair as you forgot completely about the mission you were forced to pursue. The only thing your mind was capable of thinking was the boy in front of you.

Pulling away once more, he rested his head to yours. There was a softness that had entered the room now that all formalities had come to an end; the sound of heavy breathing was the only thing to be heard as you allowed the gap between the two of you to proceed once more.

"I've thought about doing that for a while now. I didn't think I would ever be granted the chance." He smiled.

"Paul." You said.

"Hm?"

"You just made my job a lot easier."

Suddenly a large boom could be heard from the outside. Before he had time to ask you what you meant, a brilliant orange light filled the window above and covered the dark night littered with stars. Something was burning.

He jumped up from where he was laying and immediately ran to the hallway, in hopes of glancing at some of the guards who would tell him what was going on. For the second time that night Paul was astonished. There were no guards anywhere in the vicinity. In fact, everything seemed dead besides from the war that raged outside.

You exited the room right after Paul. Heading for the stairs, you ran to make your way outside. This was it. Vladimir must've finally engaged in his plans. The coolness of the slab floor beneath your feet and the crisp air of the hallway was oddly enough like a slap in the face; a universal gesture saying, "This is it. Run for it."

Taking in harsh breaths as he watched your descent, Paul pushed back his hair and beelined towards his room. Throwing open the door in his haste, he quickly threw on a pair of training clothes and started to search for his shield. Once he found it, he would be able to slip it on and use it to withhold enemy attacks. Hopefully, they weren't familiar with technology from Caladan, whomever these attackers were. He quickly remembered the Hunter-Seeker from earlier. That wasn't a typical gadget known to Arrakis. Yet they had known.

Throwing a cape over his shoulders, he made his way to the commotion.

⌛⌛⌛

Jessica threw water over her still features as she glanced at herself in the mirror. There was something odd about the way her face had taken shape over the past couple of days, and she wondered if it could be sinking in due to her stress from the move. Arrakis wasn't her ideal home, but she was learning to make do with what she had considering she didn't have a choice in the matter. If Paul was really proven to be the Muad'Dib, then he wouldn't have been able to fulfill his prophecy on Caladan. Not that that was her reason for moving, but it was definitely an image that plagued her mind. Her son, all grown up. Constantly living in danger.

It was every parent's dream.

Sighing to herself, she fixed the straps on her nightgown and opened the door to her shared bedroom with the Duke Leto. The room itself was a dark brass color with ancient inscriptions on the walls and ceilings and an abundance of space. It was intimate with the way the room was dimly lit with candles; something again that she didn't see a lot of on Caladan. Her home used to be dark and gothic, with a clear view of grey skies and rain through every window. It was beautiful and perfect. And now she was stuck in a summery wasteland.

Sighing to herself, she slipped into the silky sheets that adorned the top of her mattress. The Duke's side of the bed was cold, as usual, meaning that there was something keeping him in the office; he would probably just sleep among the books again if given the change. The truth was, Jessica didn't like being alone, no. It was a type of loneliness that festered within the very being of her soul when it came to the nights she would find herself with only her thoughts to keep her company. Bene Gesserit, Muad'Dib, the Crysknife. Anything and everything that would pull on her heartstrings until awaking the next morning became a feat in itself.

And that mischievous son of hers. There was no way that he was staying out of trouble, not with you around. Jessica saw every glance in your direction that you didn't; Paul had quickly become infatuated with you. Whether it was because of the close proximity in age or if it was the brief conversations beforehand, she was surprised that her son had taken interest in a servant girl. No matter, he would eventually come to his senses.

One thing was for certain though. Jessica did not like you.

She tried to place her finger on exactly what it might be, but she just couldn't figure out why she found you so detestable. It had nothing to do with her son's intentions and everything to do with your demeanor. You were strong and held a face of power that all the servants she had met in her life didn't have. Almost like...almost like a Bene Gesserit.

As Jessica threw back her covers in realization, the house shook with the first blast of the enemy attack.

⌛⌛⌛

"Ataraxia!" Paul huffed after you once he caught a glimpse of your frame on the desert sands below. Cloak whipping around you, you held something close to your chest as you ran across the cool sands and towards the ships that started to invade the sky. With the fire burning behind you and the blaring of the bombs above, it was truly a sight to be seen as chunks of sand and ship debris flew around the night sky. The stars twinkling overhead managed to look so innocent compared to the rest of the setting; Paul being similar. The innocence that filled his eyes upon catching your gaze once you turned around at the sound of your name. His hair flying about and his nervous stance added to his confusion as you started to walk towards him.

"I promised to take your head. But if you wish to go with me entirely, I can't complain. My uncle desires your death more than the Fremens desire that cursed spice." You tried to voice your words with anger; getting closer and closer to the boy who had it coming from the start. It wasn't fair for him to do this to you, not now that you were so far into the game already. This kiss had really set you off and now you didn't know what to make of yourself. It wasn't fair. What compelled you to act like this?

Paul reached for the shield in his pocket and then- it hit him. Why you acted the way you did. What drew him in. You were never an ally to him or his family. The name Harkonnen filled his mind like a violent poison, reaching every crevice of his soul and leaving a dark empty void within him. It polluted the very veins within him, ripping out his heart and leaving a vile taste in his mouth. You were a traitor.

"O-oh." Was all he managed to say as he placed his hand on his chest in hopes to still his breathing. A dark and solemn look suddenly appearing on his face; he composed himself and gathered every ounce of strength within him as he prepared for a fight, remembering back to everything that Hawat had taught him. Turning on his shield, he furrowed his eyebrows and tried to change the image in his mind of you to become the enemy and not a lover, but to no avail. He couldn't hate you even if he tried to.

"Seriously, how dense do you have to be?" You said, expecting to be reveling off the fact that he had fallen directly into your trap. Yet something in you felt off. Paul was hurt and for some reason, it hurt you too.

"Ataraxia -"

"It's (Y/N)." You corrected him, now finally being able to give away your true name instead of going undercover with that stupid alias your uncle had made. "(Y/N) Harkonnen." Another blast of light was seen in the sky with a loud boom that followed. A piece of one of the Harkonnen ships flew overhead and landed about forty feet behind Paul, giving you the distraction you needed to attack. Without giving it too much thought, you ran forward and made a quick motion with your knife to try and slit Paul's throat. He must've anticipated this, for in a second his hands gripped both your wrists to try and hold you down. With surprise, you knee him in the stomach and drop down to grab your knife, placing it up to his throat once more. The shield around him started to burn with the color red as you held the knife in close contact, trying to break the device with the longer you held it there.

"Atara-(Y/N)! You don't have to do this!" Paul managed to get out between huffs. He used his previous training to break out of your grasp and to pin your arms behind your back, both of you falling to the sand. He holds you in place as you squirm in his grip, staring at him from above.

"You know, I might've actually enjoyed this under different circumstances." You kicked him in the face and waited for his natural retaliation before jumping up and pushing him back down, kicking him in the face and spraying blood from his nose onto the brown earth below. He had a gash along the underside of his chin and most definitely a broken nose. However; you hated to admit that he was still beautiful, even all bashed up and bruised.

"Oh fuck off." He spat and swerved out of the way before you could kick him again.

Just then the ground started to shake but in a way that was both familiar....and alarming. Your heart fell into the pit of your stomach as your brain put two and two together, knowing that the imminent threat of danger was Paul no longer. It was the Shai Hulud that buried itself deep within the sands.

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(AN: Part four coming soon! Thank you all for being so patient with the third installment! 💛🦐)

Tags: @die-collective @xoxoloverb @totallynotkaibiased