Wow :o

This is so good... I am actually at lack of words. ✨✨✨

P.s. Credits to the owner.

Steve Rogers x Y/N Odinsdottir: A Look into Their Love Story

Here are a few stories/drabbles revolving around Steve Rogers and Y/N Odinsdottir; the man out of time who fell for a girl out of this world. Regular Steve Rogers x Reader stories HERE.

Keep reading

My God 🤍🤍🤍

HIS SMILE

Golden Globes 2024

The Addams’ were once a well respected family in the wizarding community, part of the Sacred Twenty-nine, from a long line of pureblooded wizards and witches. But that was over a century ago. Six generations ago, the family was outcast by their wizarding community, forced to live as and with muggles. Why? To put it simply, they lost their magic - they were all born squibs.

Until now.

(Y/N) Addams, eldest daughter of Gomez and Morticia Addams, receives a letter from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The new generation of magic-wielders has no idea what it’s in for; something strange; something dark. 

So get ready for a new Hogwarts story. It’s creepy, it’s kooky, mysterious, and spooky…

Maps

Sorting the Addams Family

Characters

Introduction/Prologue (very important)

First Year

Second Year

…

A/N: I’ve been planning this series for a few years and I thought you’d all like a sneak peak. Let me know what you think. Also violence or implied violence throughout - it’s the Addams Family so… duh.

Mainly based on the 90s Addams Family movies, taking inspiration from the original comics and show, and from the more recent animated movies.

Tag List:

• @boyaddams

• @too-attached-to-fiction

• @kpopgirlbtssvt

• @lady-of-lies

• @twsssmlmaa

• @asadbisexual1

• @sugakookiemonster

• @theyaremorethanjustfictional

• @cocopuffs1450

• @siriuslysirius1107

• @purpleflamebluesparkles

• @milfho

• @lilqi

• @zavijanje-na-mesecini

• @steves-sweetheart-blog

• @fanlovedlt

• @brthofafish

• @evilunicorns4minions

• @rottenstyx

• @dweeb-central

• @leafanonsforest

• @hellion-writes

• @rory-cakes

• @monstruositylad

• @ladyslytherin7

• @mima795

• @mikariell95

• @witch-of-all-things-soft

• @sugarrush-blush

• @undeniablyyou

• @kiraisastay

• @danyzta

• @lovelyy-moonlight

• @menkisser69420

• @soggumm

• @i-need-anything-holy

• @i-bitch-you-bitch

• @ayeayiee

• @ssaelles

• @mary-jinx

• @nightfiress

• @annna101

• @carmelchocola

• @gg-trini

• @synnroses

• @clph

• @i-love-books-and-the-bible

• @itszzmoon

• @funkyfreshblog

• @onlyheretosimp

• @ohh-to-be-rich-and-pretty

people's choice awards usa today portraits :: 18 february 2024 (hq edition)

Look alive, besties & fellow whores, the HQ photos dropped and hoo boi howdy I need a full gallon of water after this because…

WEE WOO WEE WOO

🚨🥭🚨

@lokisgoodgirl @lokischambermaid @michelleleewise @mochie85 @fictive-sl0th @xorpsbane @ladyofthestayingpower @maple-seed @loopsisloops @joyful-enchantress @acidcasualties @liminalpebble @alexakeyloveloki @dangertoozmanykids101 @mischief2sarawr @simplyholl @vbecker10 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @lokiprompts @give-me-a-moose @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @holymultiplefandomsbatman @wheredafandomat @the-lady-amphitrite @caffiend-queen @km-ffluv @kikster606 @itsybitchylittlewitchy @littlespaceyelf @glitchquake @gigglingtiggerv2 @november-rayne @trickster-maiden @viv-annelore @five-miles-over @gruftiela @coldnique @smirkingkitten @raqnarokr @jaidenhawke @mrs-illyrian-baby @tallseaweed +++

😳😳✨✨🌚🌚😶

Tom Hiddleston attends the afterparty for The Children’s Monologues in aid of Dramatic Need at the Old Vic on November 14, 2010 in London, England [HQ]

wowowowowowowow 💐💐💐

Goodbye

Stephen Strange x Daughter!Reader

Summary: In his desperation to fix himself, Stephen forgets the one thing he should’ve prioritized above all

Warnings: Do I ever write anything besides angst???? Child abandonment, mentions of self harm, verbal abuse, fluff at the end I PROMISE

Stephen Strange couldn’t save everyone. That’s why he became a doctor. He couldn’t save the mother of his child, his wife, so he decided to save others.

Because if he couldn’t save his love, he’d save others.

His daughter was a spitting image of her mother. Y/N M/N Strange. Stephen’s partner in crime, his best friend, his child. Y/N was everything to him.

It always made him smile when Y/N would express her aspirations to be a nurse, to help others. When Y/N turned 16, Stephen was able to get her an intern job behind the front desk. He’d stop by regularly, smiling and calling her his “favorite front desk lady”.

Y/N was the main supporter of Stephen to go out with Christine. She was thrilled when they got together, and tried not to let it bother her when they separated. She knew they were meant for each other.

Y/N was having a fantastic patch of sleeping when the landline in the apartment she and her father shared went off. Y/N groaned, seeing the time was 3:27 am, and crawled out of bed, answering the phone. “Jesus, Chrissy it’s early as f-“

She froze when she heard crying on the other end, suddenly snapping awake. “Christine? Are you okay? Is everything alright?”

Christine let out a sharp sob. “Y/N, i-it’s you father, he-he was in a b-bad crash outside of town, we-we-we don’t kn-know if he’s g-gonna make it.”

Y/N’s entire world stopped turning. The phone slid out of her hand, shattering on the hardwood floor. In a daze Y/N shrugged on a coat and slid on shoes, getting into one of her father’s cars and driving as fast as she could to the hospital, adrenaline taking her body on autopilot.

Y/N ran into the hospital in a winter jacket, a t-shirt and sleep shorts, and boots, her hair a disaster, running to the front desk where her boss, Darla, worked. “Darla, where is he.”

The woman gave Y/N a solemn smile. “Floor 3, he’s in the OR right now.”

Y/N nodded her thanks, running up the flights of stairs and into the surgical center. She sunk into a chair, her mind going into shock.

“Ma’am, you’re not supposed to be up here-“ a voice approached her, probably an intern. Y/N flipped him her badge with looking at him, the boy spouting out an apology before leaving.

Y/N sat and waited for several hours for the surgery to end, to find out if he was dead or not. Nurses would offer her water or comfort, both of which she would refuse. Y/N was collapsing in on herself, her world crashing down.

Y/N looked up and shot out of her seat when Christine approached her, the surgeon’s eyes red rimmed and bloodshot. The surgeon smiled tightly, pulling the teen into a hug. “He survived the surgery, he’s in the ICU now. He should make somewhat of a recovery.”

Y/N clung to Christine, the tears finally beginning to fall as she held on to the woman for dear life. “Thank you…”

A couple hours later, Christine led Y/N to Stephen’s room, opening the door quietly. Y/N froze when her eyes fixed upon his body laying on the bed, the various pins holding fixtators in place on his hands. She stumbled back running and bursting into the nearest bathroom, emptying her stomach into one of the toilets. Christine followed, holding back the young girl’s hair and and rubbing soothing circles on her back. Y/N sat back down on the floor, resting the back of her head on the stall wall. Christine murmured sweet nothings, trying to ease Y/N’s pain.

Y/N was able to bring herself to sit by her father’s bedside, distraught because she wasn’t able to hold Stephen’s hand. It went on like this for weeks until he finally woke up.

Y/N was outside of the room getting a drink, Christine watching over him. When Y/N walked into the room, she dropped the bottle of Mountain Dew when she saw him awake. She rushed over, giving him a tearful smile. “Hey dad.”

Stephen simply shook his head, refusing to look at his daughter. Y/N’s smile fell as she turned and looked at Christine, who had tears in her eyes.

“Dad, can you please look at me?” Y/N asked quietly, walking closer to her father who squeezed his eyes shut. “Did I do something wrong?”

“You should’ve stopped them.” Stephen murmured, finally making eye contact with his child. “You should’ve stopped them from ruining me.”

Y/N felt a lump in her throat, tears spilling over her cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

Stephen simply turned away, causing Y/N to let out a sob and walk as quickly as she could out of the room.

Every time Y/N would try to visit Stephen, he would tell her to leave, sometimes followed by chains of expletives. It was like a flip had switched, like her father had cracked.

In a couple months he was home, wasting all their money on experimental surgeries that never worked and liquor. Y/N began to stash away all money she earned through her internship. Underneath a floorboard, in the pages of a book, she always had a $20 in her bra.

Soon Stephen sold all the cars except one. Every time Y/N would try to leave to go to her job, her father would scream at her for being selfish. Soon Y/N confided in Christine, who would buy them groceries and bring the girl to work.

Christine and Y/N came back to the apartment after getting groceries one night to a furious Stephen. They were selling the apartment, Y/N honestly had no idea what the fuck she was going to do.

“He won’t do it.” Christine piped up, referring to the next surgery Stephen planned. Y/N busied herself putting away groceries.

Stephen stood from the table. “He’s a hack. There’s a new procedure in Tokyo. They culture donor stem cells… and then harvesting them and then 3D printing a scaffold. If I could get a loan together…”

“Stephen.” Christine cut in, Y/N hiding herself behind the fridge door as she put in a bottle of water.

“Just a small loan, $200,000.” Stephen reasoned, sitting down again.

Christine sighed. “You’ve always spent money as fast as you could make it. But now you’re spending money you don’t even have. You have a daughter, Stephen. Maybe now is the time to consider stopping.”

Stephen raised his shaking hands in frustration as he stood, Y/N peeking out from behind the fridge door. “No, now is exactly the time not to stop because, you see, I’m not getting any better!” He yelled, Y/N flinching.

“But this isn’t medicine anymore!” Christine countered. “This is mania. Some things just can’t be fixed.”

“Life without my work-“

“Is still life!” She interrupted. “This isn’t the end. There are other things that can give you’re life meaning.”

“Like what? You?” Stephen spat. “Or her?” He gestured to where Y/N stood, shaking.

Christine shook her head. “This is the part where you apologize. To me and your daughter.”

“This is the part where you leave.”

Christine’s eyes darkened. “Fine. I can’t watch you do this to yourself anymore.” She walked towards the door, grabbing Y/N’s arm lightly. “C’mon, let’s go.” Y/N looked distraught between her father and Christine before grabbing her coat and following her father’s former lover.

“Oh, too difficult for you, is it?” Stephen taunted, Christine turning and walking towards him.

“Yes, it is. I breaks my heart to see you this way. You’re a father, a father to a wonderful daughter. Don’t break her heart more than you have already.”

“Don’t pity me-“

“I’m not pitying you.”

“Oh yeah?” Stephen challenged. “Then what are you doing here, bringing cheese and wine like we’re old friends going for a picnic? We are not friends, Christine. We were barely lovers. But you just love a sob story, don’t you? Is that what I am to you now? ‘Poor single father Stephen Strange, a charity case. He finally needs me.’ Another dreg of humanity for you to work on. Patch him up and send him back into the world, heart’s just humming. You care so much, don’t you?” Stephen screamed. Y/N had finally burst into silent tears, her whole body shaking. “Really, Y/N? Tears? Tears for your poor father?”

Christine shook her head with tears in her eyes. Thunder rumbled as the surgeon locked eyes with him. “Goodbye, Stephen.”

She turned and walked to the door, grabbing Y/N’s hand. The teen spared her father one last tear-filled gaze before following Christine out the front door.

Christine wrapped her arms around the girl, shushing her and whispering kind words into her ears. Y/N screamed into her shoulder, crying her heart out.

That was the last time she saw her father for a while.

A month later Stephen stood, looking out the window of the night time city in Nepal. He reached into his coat pocket, drawing out his watch, which had been cracked from a previous mugging incident. He flipped it over, the ingraving on the back visible in the candle light:

This will tell how much I love you, Dad

~

Y/N

Stephen laid it on the window sill, his fingers drifting on it momentarily as he remembered the excitement with which Y/N gifted him the watch at Christmas years ago. He let a sad smile break across his face before walking away.

The almost 3 months later, Stephen picked up the same watch, carrying it over to his desk where his laptop sat, opening it to start an email.

Y/N, I’m emailing you one more time to

Stephen sighed, unable to finish it, to find the words to express how he loved his daughter with all his heart and that he was so fucking sorry for how he treated her. She should’ve been his number one priority.

And then in the fight against Kaecilius, where Stephen had been fatally hurt, he conjured a portal to the one place he knew he could go.

He stumbled into a storage closet, trudging past the nurses and doctors in his path. “Doctor Palmer, where is she?”

“Sir we need to get-“ the doctor argued, Strange shaking his head.

“Where is she?” He yelled.

“The nurses station.” The Doctor stuttered, Strange lurching forwards.

Stephen stumbled to the end of the hallway. “Christine!” He shouted, the surgeon coming into view ahead of him.

“Stephen?” Christine gasped, putting down her clipboard and rushing over, helping him stand. “Oh my god!”

“Get me in an operating theater now. Just you.” He gasped out. “Now, I haven’t any time!”

Christine led him to an operating table, helping him onto it. “What happened?!”

“Stabbed.” Stephen said matter-of-factly. “Cardiac tamponade.”

“What are you wearing?” Christina questioned, looking over his various robes as she ripped them open, tapping her fist on both sides of his chest. “Chest cavity is clear.”

“No, blood is in the pericardial sac.” Stephen gasped before loosing consciousness.

Christine turned to him, letting out a yell. “No, no, no! Stephen? Stephen!”

The surgeon readied a syringe, poising herself to inject it into Strange’s chest. “Just a little higher.” Stephen instructed, causing Christine to scream when she saw his astral form.

After Stephen battled one of Kaecilius’s lackeys in the astral dimension he regained consciousness. Christine was stitching up his wound. “After all this time… you just show up here-flying out of your body?”

“Yeah I know.” Stephen groaned. “I missed you too, by the way. You and Y/N.” Christine let out a sarcastic chuckle, Stephen sighing. “I wrote you emails, I wrote Y/N emails, but neither of you ever responded.”

“Why would I?” Christine inquired, looking at Stephen. “I had to fix your mess. I had to take Y/N to a therapist and get her help because she was convinced she did something wrong, that your behavior was her fault so she started cutting herself. She was convinced she had to hurt herself to make the pain stop.”

Stephen let out a deep breath, unshed tears glistening in his eyes. “Christine, I am so, so sorry. For all of it. I mean, you were right. I-I was a complete asshole, I treated you and especially Y/N so horribly and you both deserve so much more.”

“Stop, you’re, you’re clearly in shock.” Christine interrupted, looking up from her stitchwork. Stephen let out a wheezing laugh. “I mean what… what the hell is happening? Where have you been?”

Stephen exhaled. “Well, after Western medicine failed me, I headed East, and I ended up in Kathmandu.”

Christine paused. “Kathmandu? Like the Bob Seger song?”

“1975, Beautiful Loser, side A. Yeah, and I went to a place called Kamar-Taj and I talked to someone called ‘The Ancient One’, and-“

“Oh, so you joined a cult?” Christine smirked.

Stephen shook his head. “No, I didn’t. No, not exactly. No. I mean, they did teach me to tap into powers that I never knew even existed.”

“Yeah that sounds like a cult.”

“It’s not a cult.”

“Well, that’s what a cultist would say.”

“Oh, no.” Stephen laughed, sitting up.

Christine tried to stop him. “Wait. Stephen, wait what do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m late for a cult meeting.”

Christine helped him out of the OR, leading him back into the storage closet where the portal was open. He hopped into the portal, leaving the surgeon shocked. Stephen turned to face her. “Really do have to go. I need you to do something for me.” He gave her a sad smile. “Tell Y/N I love her. And I’m sorry.”

And with that the portal closed, leaving Christine alone in the mop closet.

A few weeks later Y/N got a text on her phone with an address, 177A Bleecker St. Y/N drove to the location, an old building in downtown New York. Y/N stepped in, looking around curiously at the building. It was beautiful, filled with ancient artifacts and books. Y/N walked up to the staircase. “Hello?”

“You cut your hair.” A familiar voice responded, Y/N turning to where her father stood in a red cape and blue robes. “It suits you. You look beautiful.”

Tears gathered in Y/N’s eyes as she stared at the man who once had always been the sun, moon, and stars to her.

“Hey dad.”

...WoW... 💖✨💖

"Dreaming Of You" - Paul Atreides x Reader

a/n: dedicated to @targaryenbarbie @howyouloveyourdragon and @alexagirlie my beloveds 🩷

Summary: Paul meets the girl of his dreams. The only surprise is that she's not a stranger to him.

TW: profanity, innuendo, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, CNC, dubcon, INAPPROPRIATE USE OF THE VOICE, oral f receiving, overstim, fingering, p in v sex, unprotected sex

Word Count: 2,000

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Dune characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷

He’s only seen you in dreams until now, your eyes alway seeing through to the very heart of him. Today is the first day he has seen you in the flesh. And he’s rendered speechless. Paul walks toward you, hesitant and unsure, his voice barely above a whisper as he questions.

“Who are you?”

You give him that smile. That same infuriatingly beautiful smile you always have in his dreams, the one that tells him you know something that he does not.

“Have you forgotten me so quickly?”

Paul stares at you, brow furrowed. There’s something that calls him to you. Something beyond his dreams. As he stands there, thinking to himself, desperately trying to remember you, he hears you laugh. And the memories all come flooding back as if a dam has opened inside is mind. He smiles at you, eyes going wide as he finally recognizes you.

“Little Idaho?”

“The one and only!” You affirm, hands on your hips, “Though I guess I looked pretty different the last time we saw each other.”

Yeah, that’s an understatement. When he last saw you, the two of you were just a couple of kids. And now, you’re this goddess. The literal woman of his dreams. Paul continues staring at you intensely, unsure of whether or not he should reach out and touch you, fearful that if he does, this will all turn out to be some cruel trick and you will disappear from his life again. You give him a curious look, tilting your head to the side.

“Paul? What is it?”

“I had thousands of dreams… Of a woman who would be my destiny…”

You shake your head, linking arms with him as the two of you walk into the palace, “There you go, talking in riddles again. You’re just as frustrating as when we were kids, you know?”

His cheeks turn scarlet as he watches you run up to Duncan, your big brother greeting you with a wide smile as the two of you embrace. Though he tries to attribute it to the Arrakian heat, Paul knows his blush is solely because of you. He knows it’s completely ridiculous, but he feels a pit in his stomach as he watches you ignore him in favor of speaking to your brother. The two of you chatter away animatedly and he watches his dearest friend and the girl of his dreams like an outsider looking in. That is, until you glance over him, grab him by the hand, and bring him into the conversation.

You don’t let go of Paul’s hand right away, either, a warm feeling arising inside him at the feeling of your soft palm against his. You tell the two of them what’s been happening on Caladan in the last week or so, either not feeling or not paying attention to Paul’s gaze on you. Duncan seems to notice it, however, and excuses himself, giving his friend a wink and making himself scarce. Paul is barely able to hold back his sigh of relief as he turns to you, offering to walk you to one of the guest rooms.

You nod eagerly, “Yeah, I need to wash all this sand off of me. I have no clue how the two of you manage to live like this.”

Paul smirks slightly at your dramatics before gesturing for you to follow him. He keeps glancing back at you, out of the corner of his eye, not wanting to lose a minute of precious time. The harsh Arrakian sun filters through the windows, not yet hot enough to close off the palace, illuminating you as you walk. It’s difficult to look away from you.

He opens the door to your room and laughs to himself as you drop your bag and run to dive onto the bed, sprawling out over it. Paul watches as you turn onto your back, a contented smile on your face, his eyes tracing the contours of your body, lingering on the curve of your breasts, your hips… His stomach tightens and he waits for you to say or do something, anything, to give him some indication of what you want. 

Finally, you sit up, patting the space beside you on the bed. Paul clears his throat, moving to sit down next to you, his hands resting on his lap, his thigh pressed flush up against yours. You angle your body toward him, smiling brightly.

“So, has your mom been helping you with the Voice? How’s that going?”

Paul nods, happy that you remember something about him, “Yes, I’m learning a lot.”

“Try it on me,” you request, meeting his gaze, “C’mon. Command me to do something.”

His cheeks flush yet again. Command you? The idea is appealing, but… He bites the inside of his cheek, his voice trembling slightly as he speaks.

“Command you? Are you sure?”

You nod eagerly, “Come on. Let’s see if you’re any good at it.”

The almost taunting, teasing edge to your voice makes him desperate to prove himself to you. He clears his throat again, speaking in a low, clear voice.

“Sit closer to me.” But you don’t move. You shake your head, indicating that you felt no pull to obey him. Paul sighs in annoyance, biting his lip as he thinks for a moment before you urge him to try again. He takes a deep breath, his voice even lower now, rougher as he demands, “Sit closer to me.”

As if in a trance, you move closer to him, your body pressed flush up against his. At first, he wonders the effect this will have on you, but you’re like an excitable child, bouncing up and down, asking him to try something else. His heart pounds at your proximity, the scent of your shampoo, the feel of your skin. Paul is consumed with the desperate need to kiss every inch of you, but he steels himself, wanting to please you, and uses the Voice again.

He looks into your eyes, using that same timbre as he did before, “Close your eyes.”

You do as he asks, laughing to yourself, “Wow. I wish I could use that to tell Duncan to shut his mouth.”

He can’t help but laugh at your joke, but with every passing minute, the desire, no, the need to kiss you grows stronger and stronger. He leans in slightly, close enough that you can feel his breath upon your lip, your faces nearly touching as he speaks again.

“Open them.”

Your eyes open and you look him in the eyes, a lazy smile on your face as you whisper, “If you want to kiss me, you don’t need to use the Voice for it, Paul.”

He gulps, your words filling him with excitement as he leans in even closer, his hand reaching up to caress your cheek; Paul’s voice is an almost timid whisper as he asks, “Can I kiss you?”

You nod, your eyes closing once more as you lean in. Paul’s movements echo yours as he cups your face in his hands, pressing his lips against your own. The feeling is nearly enough to drive him insane, your arms wrapping around him as your mouth moves against his own. He tilts his head to the side, eager to deepen the kiss, his tongue moving into your mouth to dance against your own. He’s dreamed of kissing you a hundred times now, if not more, but nothing compares to the real thing.

The two of you fall backward onto the bed, your body on top of his as the two of you continue kissing. Paul watches as you pull away, only to pull your shirt over your head, tossing it to the ground beside the bed, your pants quickly joining it in a crumpled heap. His teeth sink into his lower lip as he rests his hands on your hips, palming at your soft flesh, his pants growing uncomfortably tight. You tug at the hem of his shirt, helping him out of it as he sits up, allowing it to join yours. Your hands move to his pants, pulling them down slightly, along with his underwear, his cock nearly slapping against his stomach, the tip an angry red color, already leaking with precum. You give him a coy smile, your hands moving down the toned planes of his stomach to his hips before you speak again.

“I wonder if you could make me come just using the Voice…”

Your words make him let out a groan of excitement as he flips the two of you over so that he now lays on top of you, a smirk on his face, “I don’t think the Bene Gesserit would approve of it being used for something like that.”

“Do you care?”

“Not a bit.”

His lips find yours again, kissing you passionately, hands moving to cup your tits over your bra, moving behind you to unclasp it. He admires your bare breasts with nothing short of greed. He wraps his lips around one of your nipples, suckling at the pert bud, his fingers hooking in your panties as he tosses them to the ground as well. Both of you lay there, eyes locked, bare bodies intertwined. Paul looks at you, the unspoken question in his gaze answered with a nod of your head. He takes a deep breath before using the Voice on you again.

“Make yourself come without touching yourself where I know you’re dying to.”

He watches as your eyes glaze over, your hands trailing over your body, your face twisting in pleasure as you press your thighs together. Your breathing grows more and more rapid, your face covered in a thin sheen of sweat, tendrils of hair clinging to your face as your hips buck off the mattress, your breathy moans sounding like music to his ears. Paul runs his hands through your hair, watching as you cry out his name as you reach your peak, completely untouched.

Paul holds you close as you come back down to reality, your eyes coming into focus as you stare up at him, speaking softly, “That was…”

“You liked it?”

“Mhm.”

He kisses your neck, down your chest, your stomach - his tongue tracing your navel, before pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss to your center. He gazes up at you, eyes darkened with lust as he asks.

“Can I try something with it again?” You nod, waiting, lips parting in surprise, a little smile forming as he commands, “Spread your legs and stay completely still. Don’t try to squirm away from me.”

You lose count of how many times he makes you come, his tongue lapping at your folds eagerly, devouring as if he’s a starving man. And you lay there, your legs spread, fingers twisted in his hair, his hands squeezing at your thighs. You whine softly when he moves to suckle at your clit, the sensitive bud swollen from his nose nuzzling against it as he tasted you, but now? He fucks you with his fingers and flattens his tongue against the sensitive bud, bringing you more pleasure than you ever thought possible.

He moves back up to kiss you, and you taste yourself on Paul’s tongue. He whispers, asking if this is what you truly want. No Voice. Nothing. He wants to know. And you nod, replying that this is all you’ve ever dreamed of. His eyes light up as he joins his body with yours. You cling to him, arms wrapping around him, leaving long red marks along his back with your nails as he slots his hips against you eagerly, desperately. This is all he’s ever dreamed of too, in every sense of the word. And now that you’re here with him, on Arrakis? He’s going to let it be known to all that you will be the next Duchess, the Lady of House Atreides when he succeeds his father.

Paul Atreides has no intention of letting his dream girl slip away.

This blog is amazing. ✨✨✨ Credits to the owner.

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