Rumira sketch but it’s actually polytrix Zoey is just in the background. I may finish this later.

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Rumira sketch but it’s actually polytrix Zoey is just in the background. I may finish this later.
☮︎⋅⋆˖˙ tamed .✦ ݁˖ w.b
𑣲 pairing. will byers X f! reader 𑣲 wc. 1.8k 𑣲 genre. smut
𑣲 warnings. unprotected p in v, dom brat tamer! will, oral, teasing, swearing, spanking, dacryphilia, alt universe will byers!, intended lowercase.
𑣲 synopsis. you push will too far, and he shows you exactly what happens when you challenge him.
ᯓ★ first will smut ever, comment if you'd like to be added to the taglist! feedback is much appreciated!!
<𝟑 .ᐟ masterlist | st masterlist ⋆˚꩜。 based on this ask.
you’d been mouthing off at him all day. little comments, eye rolls, pretending you didn’t hear him when he told you to get off the bed so he could finish packing. and will…will loved you, but he loved putting you in your place even more. you knew you pushed it too far when you said, "maybe if you weren’t so obsessed with controlling everything, you’d actually—" his jaw flexed and you felt your stomach flutter. "come here," he said, voice low in that tone that meant there was no arguing. you smirked anyway, kicking your legs over the edge of the bed. "and if i don’t?" his eyes narrowed, slow and dangerous. "you will." you opened your mouth to tease him again, but he grabbed your chin between his fingers firmly, not painfully, but enough to shut you up. his thumb pressed against your bottom lip, pushing it down until your mouth hung open for him. "you want to act like a brat," he murmured, leaning close, "so you’re going to take what brats get." heat pooled in your stomach immediately.
he guided you to your knees with a hand on the back of your neck, your body obeying before your mind caught up. the carpet scratched lightly at your bare knees as he unbuckled his belt, slow on purpose, letting the metal clink just because he knew the sound made your breath hitch. "eyes on me," he said. you looked up, wide eyed, already teary in anticipation because you knew what he did to you, how deep he went, how intense he got when you pushed him and you loved every second of it. he smirked at the shine in your eyes. "that’s it. pretty even when you’re about to cry." your cheeks burned as you whispered still determined. "maybe i’ll bite." he grabbed your jaw again, firmer now. "try it." your thighs squeezed together. he slid his thumb along your lip again, pushing inside your mouth. you sucked it without thinking, earning a sharp exhale from him. "open," he ordered as he pulled his cock out of his pants. you did. he slid into your mouth in one slow, heavy push, thick and warm against your tongue, forcing your lips to stretch around him.
your eyes fluttered, watering already. "there you go," he said under his breath. "my brat, all talk until i get her right here." you moaned around him. he groaned at the vibration, fingers threading into your hair until he fisted it at the roots. then he pushed deeper. your throat tightened automatically, tears slipping out the corners of your eyes, and he watched them fall like it did something to him, because honestly it did. "fuck…" he whispered, brushing one of the tears with his thumb only to push your head back down again, guiding you in a steady rhythm. your spit dripped down your chin, his hips rocking slow at first, letting you struggle and adjust, listening to every shaky breath through your nose. "look at you," he said softly, voice shaking with restraint, "eyes all glossy, drooling for me…you like this. you like when i fuck your throat like you’re nothing." you whimpered around him, tears spilling faster. he groaned, head dropping back for a second before he pulled you off him with a wet gasp. a string of spit connected your lips to him, your chin messy, your eyes red and glossy.
you were breathing hard. he wiped your tears with his thumb again, not gentle, just enough to smear them. "say it," he said. your voice was wrecked. "say what?" he grabbed your hair, tilting your head back. "that you’re my brat. that you need me to tame you." you swallowed, trembling with need. "i’m your brat." "and?" "and i…i need you to tame me." his pupils blew wide. "good girl." he shoved his cock back down your throat, this time snapping his hips forward, and your throat took him deeper than before. your hands clawed weakly at his thighs, not to stop him, just because it was overwhelming in the best way. your vision blurred from the tears, from lack of air, from the sheer intensity of him using your mouth exactly how he wanted. "fuck, baby— look at you, taking it…crying for me…" he groaned, almost desperate, guiding your head faster. "such a good fucking brat." your throat burned, your eyes streamed, and the mix of pain and pleasure made your core throb so much it almost hurt. he moaned low and deep, lifting your head to slow down before he lost control too soon.
he pulled you off of him again, your lips swollen and wet, your breathing frantic. he stroked your cheek with the back of his fingers. "you did so good," he whispered, kissing the tears on your face. "knew you would." you shivered, leaning into his touch, eyes half lidded with need. "get on the bed," he said, voice darkening again. "i’m not done taming you." you stumbled a little getting up from the floor, legs shaky, throat raw, spit still glistening on your chin as you undressed yourself, will watched every movement, chest rising and falling like he was holding himself back from grabbing you again. you crawled onto the bed like he told you to, your knees sinking into the mattress as you looked over your shoulder at him. "like this?" you said it on purpose, sweet voice, mocking innocence. his eyes darkened. "don’t play with me." you smirked. "then make me stop." he was on you in seconds. he grabbed your hips and flipped you onto your stomach, pushing your face into the pillows, your ass arched up perfectly for him. his hand slid up your spine, slow and claiming, until it wrapped around the back of your neck.
not squeezing, just holding you there, reminding you who was in control. "you can’t help yourself, can you?" he murmured against your ear. "you always have to push me." you wiggled your hips, teasing. "maybe i just like when you snap." he sighed under his breath, one hand squeezing your ass hard enough to make you gasp. then he spread you open, dragging his fingers along your soaked slit, groaning when he felt how wet you already were. "all that attitude," he said, rubbing you slowly, "and yet you’re dripping for me." your hips bucked. "shut up—" his hand cracked against your ass, the sound sharp in the room. your breath hitched, your eyes going wide against the pillow. "what was that?" he asked, palm resting warm on your skin. you swallowed. "n—nothing." "good girl." he didn’t give you time to think, he pushed his aching cock into you in one steady, deep thrust, filling you so fast and so fully that it punched a moan straight out of your throat. your fingers twisted in the sheets. "oh—fuck!" he gripped your hips and pulled you back onto him again, harder this time.
your breath broke into little sobs with every push, your eyes watering all over again. "there they are," he whispered, brushing your hair out of your face as he fucked you from behind. "those tears i like." you shivered. "i’m not— i’m not crying—" he grabbed your chin, pulling your head back so he could see your face. "don’t lie to me." a tear slipped down your cheek at the exact moment he slammed into you again, deeper, and you whimpered. he smirked against your cheek. "beautiful," he said softly, almost gentle, even while his hips were anything but. you felt your body melt, spine arching, pushing back on him without even meaning to. he noticed immediately and held your hips down, controlling the pace. "no," he said, voice low. "i fuck you. you don’t fuck yourself on me." you whined, trying to move anyway, your body desperate for more. he pinned you harder, thrusts slower, making your breath catch and your eyes roll every time he bottomed out. "look at you," he panted, leaning over you, chest pressed to your back. "so needy. my brat always pretends she doesn’t want me until i’m inside her."
you shook under him, overwhelmed, tears dripping onto the sheets. "will—" "what, baby?" "too—it’s too much~" he kissed your shoulder, sweet in a way that only made it worse. "you can take it." he slid one hand under your stomach, finding your clit with steady, slow circles that didn’t match the rough pace of his hips at all. that contrast made you gasp, your whole body tightening. "fuck! will~ please—ahh" "please what?" he asked, rubbing you just right, thrusting into you just hard enough to make your voice break. "use your words." you shook your head, overstimulated, legs shaking. he thrust harder, making your breath stutter. "say it," he whispered. you finally sobbed, "please—want to cum—please~" he groaned like the words hit him right in the chest. "such a good girl—shit." he fucked you faster his fingers working your clit until you were shaking so hard you couldn’t keep your hips steady. your climax built quick, sharp, ripping through you like your body couldn’t hold it back anymore. you came with a choked sob, tears spilling freely, your whole body tightening around him. you felt him shudder behind you, his breath hot against your neck as he held your hips still and fucked you through every wave.
"that’s it," he groaned. "cry for me— fuck!" your walls clenched around him so hard it pulled a rough moan out of his throat. he pulled out just long enough to flip you onto your back, wanting to see your face when he finished. you looked up at him, tears streaked across your cheeks, lips swollen, chest rising fast, biting your bottom lip hard as he stroked himself once, twice, and came hard all over your stomach and chest with a deep groan, eyes locked on yours the whole time. your breath trembled. his breathing was still uneven when he leaned over you, bracing one hand beside your head, the other gently brushing a tear off your cheek with the back of his knuckles. the shift in him was immediate, still flushed, still catching his breath, but softer, warm, almost reverent as he looked at you. "c’mere," he whispered, voice rasped. he dipped down before you could answer, pressing his lips to yours in a slow, lingering kiss. nothing rushed, nothing greedy, just the warmth of his mouth moving against yours, deep and steady. his hand slid to your jaw, thumb stroking the curve of it as he pulled you closer, kissing you like he needed you to feel every quiet emotion he couldn’t speak yet.
𑣲 taglist. @honeygl0ws @adrifiii @fawniified @maeficxz @luuuciiia-mr @sage-byers @vormiersoul @yu-lynn @cherrysthie @sophiastrawberries @soratomyaza @floswirtz @arcticfoxgirl66 @memorylanee @nikki-89 @danedehannie @mosquitooo1 @bruisedletters @hungrilysymbol
Stiles and His Horny Girl
I want this white man in my guts, but I can't have that so instead we get this. Enjoy :)
༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻
You two are horny, almost all the time. Stiles, who played with himself twice a day before you got together and who damn near couldn't keep his hand out of his pants at any given moment
I feel like being in the pack with Stiles would be so stressful but make the sex so worth it
Like, it would be really, really frustrating to have no one listens to him. And when Stiles get stressed, he tends to lash out physically. Even if it's just about something like where they should all get lunch that evening.
So, you always benefit
Like when no one wanted to listen to Stiles about something being wrong with Lydia's front tire, and then the car broke down on the highway, then he had to change the tire with Scott in 97 degrees under the California sun
That night, he came home and had one of your legs over his shoulder while he whispered degrading words in your ear that had to shaking responding to ever nasty thing he said with an affirmative
Noah always knew Stiles was a bit more...excited than some teenagers. The last time he borrowed Stile's laptop, he almost had to bleach his eyes. He just didn't need to know about his son's preferences and now he just knows way too much. And since then, he hasn't been able to look at Stiles the same.
He always hoped that Stiles's delusions about sex wouldn't hinder him in a real relationship, but the noise canceling headphones he had to buy said otherwise.
You just looked so nice! When you came in for the first time, charming and sweet, he was sure that Stiles would have to try being normal for a bit. Then he came home one night and heard a moan that had him scared he'd be a grandfather soon.
No one expects you two to be the way you are. Except for Scott, he's been subjected to hearing Stiles's insane thoughts about you for the past two years since you transferred in the school. Like that time, they ran into you at the mall when you had on biker shorts and the minute you turned to walk off Stiles went from sweet, cute Stiles, to scaring the crap out of Scott with how badly he was describing his need for you.
And you were no better. Your friends were damn near victims. Hearing about how hard you fucked yourself while thinking about Stiles, seeing you turn into an entirely different person whenever he was close by. Why you wanted this guy to throw you around like a rag doll was a mystery to your friends. I mean, sure they knew he was handsome. You just had thoughts about Stiles that would kill a nun.
Honest to God, I don't know which one of you is worse. It's probably Stiles to be honest, you do egg him on though.
You don't care where you are, you want him real bad sometimes. Even if that's in the middle of the woods in the middle of the night (y'all are dying first in a slasher movie for sure) and you two are supposed to be investigating something. You'll push him against a tree, before you're making out and unbuckling his belt. He can't exactly argue when the feeling of you giving him a handjob through his boxers is making his head spin and his tip leak. Somehow you try end up dry humping (BRING BACK DRY HUMPING) before your entire body is shuddering, and Stiles is gripping your hips with his eyes shut while he stains a pair of his boxers.
Your werewolf friends have had the misfortune of hearing you two. No one, and I mean not one of them, needed to know that you like being choked. Or that Stiles liked being bitten. You two don't do stuff in front of people, because that just gives creep so that's not the move but it's not your fault half of the town has supernatural hearing. Honestly at a certain point they should just stop coming over at night.
There are times when you two are apart and can't go at it for a while. Stiles will beat his dick raw; the man is addicted to you. He's obsessed. He's pathetically rewatching videos of you two. You deepthroating him until your eyes are red and teary. You bouncing on his cock while scratching down his abs. Him eating you out while you urge him on with moans of his name. Oh, and the videos of him hitting it from the back with a hand tangled in your braids while you squeal moans of approval. It doesn't help that you both have a really high sex drive so he's basically getting laid every day then has to go to getting absolutely nothing for probably months. It's also worse because he's madly in love with you and sex helps him feel so close to you.
If you're smart forget about it. Stiles is smart but he can't focus at all. You help him by studying with him, and Stiles could listen to you talk literally all day. Then about three hours in he's focusing on your lips and the way they pucker just a bit when you bite the inside of your cheeks to focus. Somehow, he ends up slowly kissing you until you're laying down. Then oops! He's eating you out while you expertly deep throat him with your hips wiggling from the stimulation.
To cut a long ass story short, y'all are freaked the fuck out, that's it. And neither of you want it any other way.
To whoever first wrote that Merlin is only clumsy because he has to make a conscious effort and always invest a lot of energy to not allowing his magic to be instinctive : Thank you! That concept always lives in my mind for free
yk i had to do it to them….
the louvre news has been so funny, every update makes it more lupin
☮︎⋅⋆˖˙ bf headcanons — f.w
Ⱄ pairing. finn wolfhard X f! reader Ⱄ wc. 0.8k Ⱄ genre. f, a
Ⱄ warnings. implied sexual content, brief fight(s)
ᯓ★ now playing 'falling - the haim sisters' ♪
finn is the kind of boyfriend who always drifts closer to you without realizing it. couches, beds, movie theater seats — somehow his shoulder or thigh is always pressed to yours.
he loves holding hands but pretends he doesn’t notice when he’s the one who reaches first. his thumb absentmindedly rubs little circles against your skin while he’s talking.
he writes little songs or riffs inspired by you and plays them casually like it’s no big deal, but watches your reaction out of the corner of his eye. they also stay unreleased, only meant for your ears.
he texts like he talks. lots of "uhhh" and "lol wait" and messages sent in clusters instead of one coherent thought and late night calls where neither of you wants to hang up. you fall asleep listening to his breathing and wake up to a quiet, "you still there?" in the morning if the call didn't somehow end during the night.
he gets shy when you compliment him. he blushes, especially his ears. he absolutely melts when you initiate affection. you kiss his cheek or hug him from behind and he freezes for half a second before smiling like you just handed him the world.
he remembers the tiny things — your favorite snack, the way you take your coffee, the song you said made you feel safe — and surprises you with them when you least expect it.
falling asleep together is his favorite thing. tangled legs, soft music playing, his hand resting on your waist like it belongs there — because it does (obviously).
blurry mirror pics just for you. half his face cut off, bad lighting, but he knows you’ll love it anyway. he also sends you pictures of random things — street signs, cafes, sunsets, selfies at funny angles — literally for no reason at all.
soft indie playlists with titles like for late nights or you’d like this and they’re all basically love letters.
voice messages sent at 2am from hotel rooms. "i miss you" said quietly. you can hear the tiredness in his voice.
when he's angry he paces. runs his hands through his hair. sits on the edge of the bed with his elbows on his knees, staring at the floor like the answers might be written there. i think finn struggles to articulate himself when he’s overwhelmed. he’ll scream "i don’t know!" a lot, even though he does know — he just hasn’t figured out how to say it yet.
sometimes he goes silent mid argument. not to punish you, but because he’s afraid if he keeps talking, he’ll make it worse. he's not emotionally abusive or mean, but he can say stuff that he doesn't mean in the heat of the moment so really it's just best for him to walk away and take a break.
we all know the kind of humor this man has...so sometimes he can be a little cruel without meaning to be. if you're a sensitive person then this took some getting used to.
finn gets bold in private. not loud about it — just whispered comments murmured right against your ear that make your stomach flip.
he knows exactly what he’s doing when he crowds your space. backs you up against a counter, a wall, the bed. not touching at first, just close enough to make you feel him.
he’s a teaser. drags his fingers along sensitive spots — ribs, inner thighs, collarbones — watching your reactions with a smirk. loves it when you squirm or whimper quietly.
he definitely likes to spank you. loves leaving marks on you whether they're handprints, bite marks or light bruises, he just loves marking you up as his in general. he also likes to yank your hair.
he's a big worshipper. if he doesn't want to make you his bitch that night then he's on his hands and knees kissing and massaging your stomach/legs, pretty much anywhere and everywhere.
he yearns for you, looks up at you with those big brown eyes of his as he eats you out. THIS MAN IS AN EATER. he'll beg you on his knees to eat you out for the 2nd time that day and you'll say yes because you love watching him between your legs..and feeling him.
he loves to watch his cock disappear inside you and then pull out slowly, only for your greedy cunt to suck him back so deep inside you that his tip kisses your cervix. you both roll your eyes back and moan at that.
breeding kink/loves to creampie you. practically begs and whines for it. loves to watch his cum ooze out of your core. he's also a panty thief, he'll pocket your panties right in front of you after giving them a nice long inhale. yes even if you share the same bedroom he'll still do this. he's a pervert when it comes to you.
Prideful dash lol
SPECTERS OF SILK
[Dark!Paul Atreides x Runaway Reader]
part 1
Description: In an alternate universe where Paul never dreamed and fell in love with Chani, he becomes a tyrant feared throughout the universe, being a sadistic maniac whose power is worshipped as that of a god. The Brotherhood sent you as Muad'Dib's concubine to try to manipulate him, but all you want is to live free, so you don't try to persuade him, but to escape. But your unexpected twist in fate makes Atreides start to love you, his obsession growing without you realizing it. So when you finally escape, Paul is not accepting it.
.
Warnings: possible spelling mistakes (English is not my first language), bene gesserit!Reader, nsfw, afab!reader, obsessive and possessive behavior, Dark!PaulAtreides, slavery (not sexual), child abuse, mentions of torture and blood, swearing, mentions of ideas like suicide, use of Voice, sexual content (not recommended for minors, read at your own risk), obscenity, (Spoiler: Corrino!Reader), everything is fictitious and false!
You were always going too fast.
Always fast.
But now it seemed you were too slow.
-
You were a slave, sold from master to master, you never knew your parents, you never knew your origins or what made you a slave in the first place, you were just… there.
Being used, being ordered around, obedient, educated, all for your own good.
Maybe that was what drew Reverend Mother Gaius Helen Mohiam to you.
What had it been like? Oh, you had been thrown out by your former master and taken to be sold again. On the streets, you walked in handcuffs, your gaze expressionless as you walked, you had been taught that, as a slave, you should look down, never directing your gaze to those above you.
That was why you had bumped into her.
She was accompanied by two sisters, all three dressed in black, with a veil like night over them. The slave buyer attacked you in front of everyone for your carelessness, but you didn't say anything, you weren't allowed to. Imagine your surprise when somehow, the Reverend Mother approached her seller wanting to buy you.
Her sisters also showed surprise (moderate, of course), but they said nothing. That day you were taken by them, and you were never the same again.
You were trained in the bene gesserit arts, your teaching was much more severe than the others, said by the Reverend Mother herself, but she never told you why.
You never questioned it further, fearing punishment.
You trained in all kinds of things: history, politics, justice, posture and reflexes, trained to control and know the human body and its reactions, trained to control your body. You trained in the Voice, the mechanism was the hardest, trying to find the perfect timbre, you trained your body in hand-to-hand combat, trained to study and identify any poison, toxin or anything harmful to health and well-being and how it all affected the body.
You learned everything.
But you were never told why you, a slave, should learn these things.
And, although you could not ask the reason for your training, you asked about your freedom.
"Will I be free?" "Will I have freedom after I complete my purpose?" "Will I be able to have freedom someday?"
The answers were always the same.
"Only destiny knows, child."
It was not a No, it was a doubt. You could be free someday, that is why you obeyed the Reverend Mother, that is why you pushed yourself beyond measure. In the hope that, someday, you would be set aside and could be free.
You never knew your purpose, but the hope of sweet freedom remained like a blanket of comfort over your heart.
There was hope.
That was until Paul Atreides ascended the throne.
The Kwisatz Haderach.
He killed the former Emperor, Shaddam Corrino, and seized power. He showed no mercy as he brought the Fremen into the universe and subjected the great houses to his empire. A tyrant, sadistic and cruel, he killed billions, his power unknown even to the Brotherhood.
Your influence and fear spread throughout the universe, your presence dominating and claiming everything in front of you, even though your reign was only five years old, everyone already felt the weight of your power.
It was in this dictatorial regime that you understood the reason for your training.
A sacrifice.
Reverend Mother Gaius had trained you to control whoever rose to power, whether it was Feyd-Rautha or Paul Atreides, you were a plan B in case Irulan failed, and although your training at first was for the case of Feyd reigning, with Paul conquering the throne and massacring the entire Corrino house for treason, the Reverend Mother focused your training on controlling the Kwisatz Haderach.
And you only found out about this a month before marrying the Emperor.
Shocked, you accepted it, you trained for it and to maintain your obedience to the brotherhood, but you did it because you didn't realize the main point, you only realized it after a few hours.
The Reverend Mother did not expect to give you freedom.
That was enough for you.
You wanted to be free! You were a bird trapped since birth, with no choices, no peace, no love, no affection, living a life of fear and suffocation, where you could be given and subjugated by anyone who bought you for a price, you were tired of being controlled and handled like a doll.
With your marriage to Paul, possibly being one of coldness and appearances, just to manipulate events, you would only be taken from one cage to another.You refused to do that.
So, as you approached the throne room, with a light gray dress and veil that covered your entire face, along with the bene gesserit accessories that you clutched tightly, either out of anger or fear, you decided at that moment.
You would do anything to escape, both from the brotherhood and from Paul Atreides.
You would be free.
Whatever the cost
—
Paul made many choices in life.
Some good, some bad, and that led him to who he is today.
The Emperor of the Universe.
Paul Atreides stopped being the innocent and kind boy when his entire home, his honor, and his father were taken from him. And although he made many bad choices, he will never regret keeping a part of the innocent boy he was inside him.
The golden path he was following, for the survival of humanity, would make him be recognized as a maniacal and heartless tyrant, never as the savior of the human race. But for him it was okay, the only people he loved and cared about were his mother and his sister, and they were both on his side in this game.
But perhaps, the decision to keep the old Paul Atreides inside him, would make him regret or be grateful for the rest of his life.
It all depends on you.
-
Paul was intrigued.
He knew the old witch would try anything to keep him under her control. But he had expected that after Irulan's death when she tried to poison his little sister, Gaius would be more fearful of confronting him.
Apparently, she was braver (or stupider, it's the same) than he thought.
Offering a political marriage was a bold move, one that Paul could have easily rejected.
But the Reverend Mother needed a lesson for defying him so openly, and what would be better than seeing her plan fail miserably?
Oh, that would be fun.
To become a tyrant, Paul had immersed himself in the memories of his Harkonnen ancestors, seeking to delve into the pleasure of others' suffering, the diabolical and maniacal methods he had so immersed himself in made him find himself silencing the whispers in his mind to go further, to do more.
So there he was, sitting on the throne in black robes, he allowed himself to sink into ways in which he could break his new concubine. Delighting in the good manners of making the woman surrender to the brink of madness.
Then when he felt the Reverend Mother he was confused for not feeling anyone with her.
Wouldn't the union be today? Why didn't she-
"My lord, Reverend Mother Gaius is here." Gurney said as he entered the throne room, Paul waved his hand tediously as Duncan went to his side. The large doors opened with a creak that everyone had become accustomed to, Gaius' figure approached him along with another woman at his side, it took more than a few seconds before Paul realized.
He didn't feel that woman, didn't feel her presence and hadn't even anticipated her arrival.
He didn't see You.
He waited until you were at the foot of the throne, where you bowed subtly, your movements being followed by everyone in the room "Your divinity."
Only those closest to Paul could call him sir or by his name, the rest could only address him with titles befitting the Emperor. The slightest bit of disrespect caught in speech could lead someone to the gallows, or even a worse sentence, in another life, Paul would be disgusted by this and would be more benevolent.
But he didn't go.
He smiled falsely at the witch, his anger towards her hadn't diminished one bit over the years "I was beginning to think you wouldn't come." No expression appeared on the old woman's face, but in her eyes, deep down, he could see the trace of anger towards him.
Even after years, the enmity between them remained strong and firm. Paul was amused by how the witch was forced to respect him, even though years ago she had treated him with ferocity. "We didn't mean to take so long, but Your deity knows how rigorous the process is to enter the palace."
"Yes, I know." His attention was on the girl beside him, once again his interest being drawn to her. He stood up from the throne, the movement attracting the attention of both of them. With slow steps, he approached you. Wisely, you didn't dare meet his eyes or raise your head, not even when Paul was in front of you.
"I assume this is the girl you talk about so much, isn't it?" He tried to look through you again, to see your mind or your ways, but Paul found himself blank again. It was as if he was near a black hole, a beautiful mystery that constantly pulled him closer to you.
What the hell are you?
"That's right, your deity." Paul looked at your face through the gray veil over you, for some reason he felt like seeing your face. So he took the veil and lifted it up, passing it over your head, finally giving Paul a view of your face.
Although Paul had acted surprised when he took your veil, your face still seemed unmoved, he got no reaction from you other than the almost imperceptible movement of your head when the veil was lifted.
Your face was a truly divine vision, the features of your face were like a painting taken from the sky, the skin as soft as the clouds and soft as the petals of the Caladan flowers he still remembered. Your hair was like a flowing river, caught in the hairstyle you wore, its vibrant and vivid color hidden behind the veil.
And your eyes, Oh your eyes.
Your eyes were lowered, but Paul could still see them, they were a mixture of your own tones that made Paul sigh in ecstasy, an explosion like the immense clouds of nebulae that roamed the universe, their beauty reflected in your irises. Your eyes, your eyes were the window to your soul, the soul that Paul Atreides lost himself in the moment he saw you.
Still mesmerized by you, Paul put two fingers to your chin and lifted your head. "Look at me." His voice came out lighter and sweeter than he had used in years. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Ducan and Gurney looking at each other in confusion, but he didn't care.
You followed his order, your beautiful eyes meeting his deep blue, you stared at each other for a few seconds before his voice rang in the air again. "What is your name?" Your eyes blinked slightly before your voice, the voice he had unconsciously longed to hear, spoke.
"It's [Name], your deity."
"[Name]" he felt the name on his tongue, tickling his mind, he traced his thumb across his lips, gently parting them "Indeed, it is a very beautiful name, it suits the owner." His cheeks darkened slightly and his lips trembled, his eyes averted to the new floor, shining in subtle embarrassment.
How cute you were.
Maybe this wasn't as bad as he thought.
NEXT CHAPTER
bye