Yes Make A Part 2!!

yes make a part 2!!

Bet, part 2 to cheer up coming soon ;)

Also just wanted to thank everyone for all the love on my art donaldson imagine, I really appreciate it💕

Read part 2 here!

Moving to Los Alamos

Cillian Murphy as J. Robert Oppenheimer

Warnings : none

Word count : 1681

a/n - this was lightly proofread so there may or may not be some mistakes and this is also my first time writing fanfic in like 5 years so I'm kind of rusty. I hope you enjoy :)

You hated change and you always have. You had just gotten used to living with your husband and adapted to his long work hours and constant work trips. You had made a couple friends in the neighborhood and could see yourself living there for a while. So when Robert came home one night and said you two were moving to Los Alamos, you weren’t exactly thrilled.

You were sitting at the kitchen table reading a book in the dark underneath the dining room table light as you liked to do. You enjoyed the ambience and peace. A set of headlights entered through the kitchen window that you had opened earlier causing you to look up from your current page. You watched Robert climb (more like rush) out the car with his briefcase and head to the front door. He seemed to be in a good mood, but knowing him it could be something small that happened at work he couldn’t wait to tell you. You smile to yourself at the thought.

Once he walks through the door and notices you sitting at the table he gives you a wide smile. You return it along with a confused look. He quickly sets his hat down on the hat rack, his briefcase down on the table, and finally sits down next to you. Throughout all of this, his smile never fades and now you have a feeling it’s not anything small that’s got him like this. You lay the book in your hands on the table after making a mental note of your current page, and give him your full attention.

“Well, how was your day?” you smile at him, already partially knowing the answer.

“What do you think about moving to Los Alamos?”he asks, causing your smile to falter.

“I asked you how your day was not about moving to New Mexico,” you gave him a confused look. Robert scoots his chair closer to yours and grabs your hand, resting it in your lap. Your brows are still deeply furrowed as you look at him.

“This is what I have been working towards these past months. I moved out here to California for my work to be recognized and it’s finally paying of-“

“Robert, what are you talking about?” You cut off his rambling with a wave of your hand.

“Remember when I told you about that special project and how no one would let me on?”he asks and you nod. “Well they finally did and they want my help.”

“And what do these people need help with?” you ask, and he gives you an uneasy look. You motion for him to continue and he hesitates a little.

“They want to build a bomb,” he finally answers with a hushed voice, and you just stare at him not knowing what to say with your mouth slightly ajar.

An hour ago you were thinking about how to change the look of your living room and now your husband comes in and hits you with this. You’re not even sure he’s supposed to be telling you this.

“Say something,”he gently says once he notices your silence.

“I-I don’t know what to say. I mean what am I supposed to say? You just said the word bomb Robert! What is it for? Who is it for?”the whole time you speak in a whisper but you still manage to raise your voice at him.

“That I can’t tell you, you just have to trust me.”

“Trust you? You want me to trust you and move to a different state for something you can’t even tell me about because I might get killed for knowing too much!”

“No, no, no. You’re not going to die, you just don’t have security clearance for me to tell you,”he says with a small laugh. You lean back in your chair and give him a dumbfounded look because there’s no way he’s laughing right now.

“Security clearance? What the hell is this Robert?”

He grabs your face with his hands and looks into your eyes.

“This will all make sense when we’re in Los Alamos, I promise. I need you to trust me. Will you trust me?” he searches your face for an answer.

You don’t want to but you look him in the eye. The same blue eyes that you instantly fell in love with the first day you two met. The same blue eyes that were always able to convince you to do anything as long as he pairs it with a smile. Move to New Mexico. Trust him. Just like you trusted him when you decided to kiss him for the first time back when you were married to your ex-husband. Just like you trusted him when he asked you to marry him, which you did and divorced your previous husband without a second thought.

You let out a sigh. Once again this man was able to persuade you, this time though, with hardly any details. He raises his brows expectantly and you nod.

“Thank you,”he smiles at you as he gently caresses your cheek before leaning in to place his lips on yours, and then repeating it again. “Thank you.”

About a month later it was time for the move to Los Alamos. You and Robert had packed ‘only what you needed’— Robert’s words not yours —  and made the drive down from California. According to him there would be a house waiting for you with everything that you needed. Along with the clothes you packed, there were also some knick knacks from home you planned on putting in your new temporary one. 

When you two finally arrived you hadn’t even realized until he told you. Based on your surroundings it didn’t look like much given the fact that you were in the middle of nowhere. It was just a hot, dry desert with the sun beaming harshly down on you. That was until Robert kept driving, and you saw something in the distance. You glance over at Robert, and he gives you a quick glance back along with a reassuring smile. 

Once you get closer you’re able to make out a small down that looked like it didn’t belong. Robert had told you the government had built a temporary town to help with whatever it is that was going on here, but you didn’t think he was serious. Robert pulls the car up to a gate with a couple uniformed men who had to be drenched in sweat from this heat standing around. As you were pulling up, there was a car already waiting to enter. The guard standing closest to the driver’s side window hands what seems to be some sort of pass to the driver and motions for the gate to open and for the driver to continue. Once you pull up, the guard notices Robert and just motions for us to continue.

“They were checked, but there was no need to check us,” you thought. You continued to think about this as Robert continued the drive into the town.

You could tell all the buildings were new from how bright the paint or letterings on the buildings were. But, that could also be the New Mexico sun reflecting off the buildings. Robert had told you the main reason for the town was so the men working on the project could bring their families. You passed by convenience stores and other small stores, as well as a makeshift hospital. To go along with the new buildings, the people who worked in them and shopped filled up the streets. Some of the wives of the men that were working on the project could be seen casually walking and gossiping as if this had been their home all along. The men who they belonged to were too busy running in and out of work the different work buildings. You were somewhat impressed with the town.

You also wondered how some of the other men were able to convince their wives to move out here.

You eventually reach where all the houses seemed to be, but Robert never stopped in front of one of those. The one he did pull in front of was secluded from the others. It was 

“I thought you would like your privacy,” he tells you as he turns the car off. You give him a small smile at the gesture before exiting the car.

The house looked pretty small on the outside, but so did all the other houses you passed on the way here. As you step inside you realize the house is not yet furnished making it appear bigger than it was. Robert follows you inside with his hands inside of his pockets and watches you as you look around waiting for your reaction.

“Robert,” you call out to him from a different room and he follows the sound of your voice. He raises his eyebrows as a way of asking what was wrong, even though he already knew the problem. “There’s no kitchen. What am I supposed to do?”

“Don’t worry, I’ve already dealt with it. Some guys are going to come out and bring everything you need.”

“Why isn’t it already here?” You ask him.

“That’s just how it is, but don’t worry, in a couple days everything will be fine. The house will be furnished and you will have fixed it up how you like. Think of it as a home away from home” He grabs a hold of both your hands to bring you closer to him. 

You take your hands out of his and wrap your arms around his neck. He places his hands on your waist and starts to do a gentle sway — something he did to calm you down once, and now he does it for every similar situation. He knows you’re not completely content with it, but hopes you are able to handle it for the time being.

“I sure hope all this is worth it,”you tell him as you look up at him. 

“Me too.”

Necessary Revenge

Art Donaldson x reader

Warnings - 18+, smut, sub!art, dirty talk, handjob, overstimulation

Word count - 2111

a/n - yeah this is definitely on the list of the dirtiest things i've written. by popular request, here's part 2 to Cheer Up, but it can also be read by itself. Also tysm for all the love on Cheer Up. Sorry this took so long, and I hope you enjoy :)

You hated it when Art teased you, which is exactly why he does it. All you want is a loving boyfriend who listens to you and does what you say, is that too much to ask? Apparently so.

Obviously, the only reasonable solution is to seek revenge. Unfortunately for Art, after being denied an orgasm earlier after a rough day, that’s exactly what you plan to do. Well, maybe not unfortunate since this is most likely what he wants. 

You were trying to study and watch playbacks of matches on your laptop to better your skills, but since you’re no longer in the mood, you decide you might as well close it.

After cleaning up your area, you head into the bedroom to see Art leaning against the headboard on his phone, his back propped by pillows. The television is on but on low volume, he always needed some type of background noise. Art glances up from his phone once he notices you walk in and can’t help the smirk that grows on his face. As soon as he looks back down, you shoot him a glare.

“Back for more?” Art asks.

Just you wait.

“Not exactly,” you tell him as you climb next to him on the bed, using the sweetest tone possible. You get yourself situated against the headboard with him, making sure you’re comfortable – you plan on being here a while. “What are you doing?” 

“Just texting Patrick, he’s complaining about the match he just lost and how he needs to find a way to improve.”

“Well, he always was a sore loser,” you say. Art hums and nods in agreement as he continues to text his best friend. He doesn’t make a move to continue the conversation, so you decide to begin your revenge plan.

You turn your attention to the tv hanging on the wall as you place your hand on Art’s thigh. He must be too into his phone since he doesn’t notice, so you continue to raise your hand higher along the fabric of his sweatpants.

Art’s body tenses as he feels your hand move up his body, his fingers frozen above the keyboard on his phone. You notice the questioning glance he gives you from the corner of your eye, but you continue to play innocent as you keep your attention forward.

You wait for Art’s focus to go back to his phone before drifting your hand even higher and stopping right over his crotch. You don’t hide the smile that starts to grow on your face as you feel his cock slowly starting to harden over your touch. Art’s breathing begins to shallow out as he tries to maintain his focus and keep his mind straight. Well, that is until you give his crotch a firm squeeze causing him to let out a small moan and his eyes to flutter.

“What are you doing?” he asks you, his voice low.

“What do you mean? I just want to spend some time with you,” you answer in a casual tone, but Art can see right through your facade. He can feel his heartbeat getting faster. You finally turn your head towards him to notice his blue eyes not slightly widened as he stares back at you. You notice the way his chest slowly rises and falls in anticipation as his grip tightens around his phone. “Is something wrong?”

He gulps. “N-No, just a question.”

“I’m pretty sure Patrick is waiting for you to text him back,” you say, nodding towards his screen. 

Art continues to stare for a few more seconds before nodding and looking back at his phone, but you don’t take your eyes off of him. You let your hand hover above him as you wait for him to send a few more messages out before beginning to palm him through his sweatpants.

Art bites his lip as he lets a whimper. His cock is at full attention now as your hand continues to move. The grip he has on his phone is faltering, his hands starting to tremble and his face completely flushed. When his hands fall into his lap along with his phone, you stop and raise your eyebrows.

“Pick it back up and continue texting him,” you command, your tone firm. His phone is vibrating non-stop from Patrick’s pettiness.

“Baby-.”

“I said continue,” you tell him. 

A look of desperation flashes across his face before he lifts his phone back up and responds to the messages. Your hand starts back up again, and Art lets out a noise, sounding like he wants to start crying. 

He’s falling apart with just a touch of your hand.

Art is starting to get annoyed at Patrick’s texts and wishes they would just stop so he could enjoy himself. He knows you’re not too pleased right now, but he doesn’t care. It just feels too good.

You lean your head into his neck for you to kiss just below his ear, his favorite spot and his weakness. “What’s wrong? You were so cocky earlier, where’s that same energy?”

A shiver runs through Art’s body at the feeling of your breath on his neck. He lets out another whine as he closes his eyes for a second before opening them back up. He’s looking at his phone, but given the fact that his head is starting to feel empty, he can’t really make out the words on the screen.

“You don’t have anything to say for yourself?” you taunt as you press down harder on Art’s crotch, causing him to buck up into your hand. 

You pull away from his neck to get a good look at his face, which now has a distant look on it. His mouth is ajar as he looks back at you. You tilt your head, waiting for him to respond to you, but all he does is whimper and pant. He’s a complete mess.

You bring him into a kiss by grabbing the back of his neck, which he happily gives in to. The kiss is filled with nothing but need – more on his end than yours. Art drops his phone on the bed next to him so he can grab your waist, pulling you even closer to him. He whimpers into your mouth as you give his hair a quick put firm tug.

He plunges his tongue into your mouth, needing even more from you. You allow it for a moment before pulling back just a little to wrap your lips around his tongue. Art lets his eyes roll into his head at the feeling of you sucking his tongue. He feels his climax coming quickly from the combined pleasure, and you can tell by the fact of him squirming under your touch more and more.

“You’re not going to cum without my permission are you?” you ask after pulling away from his mouth.

Art feels his eyes become heavy as his forehead pressed against yours. “No.”

“Good boy,” you smile, and that brings Art even closer to the edge. He removes his hand from your waist to grab a hold of the cover beneath him.

“Can I cum?” he pleads as he throws his head back against the headboard, your hand still on the back of his neck.

“Not yet.”

“Baby please,”he pleads again, his breathing speeding up.

“No,” you tell him, wanting to torture him.

“Baby I can’t. I-I can’t,” he stutters, his eyes squeezed shut and his brows furrowed.

“That’s too bad,” you tell him. You feel his hips stutter under your touch making it known that he’s about to cum anyways. You already knew he wouldn’t be able to hold back for much longer. 

Art lets out a cry as his orgasm floods through his body and shoots out of him. A wet patch begins to appear through his sweatpants as you keep on pressing against him. He continues to roll his hips into your hand as he rides his orgasm out, a string of gasps falling out of his mouth.

“Oh no,” you fake pout, “Looks like you didn’t make it.”

“I’m sorry, I tried,” he pants as he opens, looking down at the stain on his pants before making eye contact with you. A look of embarrassment falls on his face.

He’s so cute.

You move your hand away from him. “What a shame,” you shake your head in fake disappointment. There’s a moment of silence before you say, “pull your pants down.”

“What?” Art asks, confused. He thought you were done, but he was so wrong.

“You heard me,” you say in a plain tone. 

Art hesitates before shimmying his pants down his legs to his knees, along with his underwear. You look down to see a mess of his cum covering his shaft, and as you take a look at his underwear, you see some sticking to the fabric. His cock is red and starting to soften, but that’s going to change.

Art gives you a look of realization as he lifts his head from the headboard once it registers in his mind what you’re about to do. “Please don’t.”

You ignore his request as you wrap your hand around his shaft. He jumps at the feeling of your cold hand around him, still sensitive from his orgasm. You stare into his eyes as you begin moving your hand up and down. Art lets out a pathetic whine as his body jerks, trying to escape your touch, but it doesn’t work.

“You know, you’re just so easy,” you tease.

“Baby, please-,” Art cuts himself off with a whimper, his hips starting to writhe against the cover.

“Please what? You should be thankful that I’m doing this, unlike how you denied me my orgasm earlier,” you tell him. “I’m letting you cum as many times as you want.”

“Oh my god,” he says as he drops his head. His voice strangled as his second orgasm unexpectedly arrives. You watch as his cum lands on your hands and the bottom of his white shirt. 

A sticky and wet sound echoes through the room as your hand speeds up around him. Art’s mouth falls open as his breathing picks up once again. He looks at you, silently begging, but you ignore him once again. You remove the hand from behind his neck and place it on one of his legs to help keep his body still.

“Say you’re sorry,” you tell him as you run your thumb over his tip a few times..

“I’m sorry,” he gasps, his grip on the cover tightening. He feels like his hands might be stuck in fists by the time this is over.

You pretend to think in your head before saying, “I don’t think you mean it.”

His voice is high and whiny as he throws his head back once again and says, “I am. I promise.”

“Hmm, I don’t know,” you shrug. “Make me believe it.”

Art begins to rethink his choices and starts to regret messing with you. “I’m so, so, so sorry, baby. I swear. It was wrong of me to do that to you.”

“Hmm.”

“Baby.”

You smirk at his desperation. “I forgive you.”

“Oh, no, I think I’m going to cum again,” he cries, his eyes rolling back once again as his body tenses.

“Go ahead,” you tell him.

Art’s third orgasm hits him harder than his previous two. He trembles as his back arches away from the headboard while watered down cum spurts out of him. Drool spills out the side of his mouth as you continue the motions of your hand.

He uses a hand and reaches down to pull yours away from his cock, but you slap it away. Art gasps as he continues to twitch in your hand, feeling like he can’t stop as cum flows out of him. You finally move your hand away, but his cock continues to spasm with your touch.

Wanting to torture him one last time, you lean down to wrap your mouth him, sucking and cleaning. Art’s body jerks as he curls forward and grabs your head. You laugh as you pull away.

You lean back against the headboard, pulling his head into the side of your neck to help him calm down. His breath tickles you as he tries to slow his heart down. You glance down at his spent cock with a smile as you gently rub his back.

After a long moment of silence, Art’s phone vibrates from its place on the bed beside him.

You shake your head as you ask, “Are you going to answer that?”

“Patrick can fucking wait,” he breathes out.

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Snap Out of It

Austin Butler x reader

Warnings - angst, fluff, soft!Austin aka normal Austin

Word count - 1877

a/n - request: “The reader works from home and is really stressed and starting to fall back into depression and Austin comforting her. Austin finds her crying when he comes home because she is overwhelmed” - I wrote this on my phone since I’m out of town and it was kinda terrible. Also I visited Elvis’ house and saw Austin’s little exhibit, enjoy :)

You were getting more and more anxious with every passing day. Earlier this month you had auditioned for a role, and you were told that you would receive an answer by the end of the month. Ever since the audition, the first thing you would do each morning would check your emails and your messages for a response, but you were met with nothing.

To be honest, you really needed this job. This is the first role you’ve auditioned for in over a year, and getting the job would help bring you out of your current funk. You spend your days working from home, except for the days you have to go out in town for meetings, and being at home all the time is taking a toll on you.

For months Austin had been gone to film for a new movie and he had just come back recently. You watch as Austin leaves to go to the gym or meet up with friends, and each time he would ask you to join him and tell you to leave your work for later, but you were never in the mood.

You could see the disappointment on his face when you would decline his offers, but he wouldn’t say anything or push you.

Now, you were standing in the bathroom trying to wipe the tears from your eyes and clear your face before Austin came back home from dinner. Your face was red and your eyes were swollen — you just looked a complete mess.

You grab a washcloth and hold it under cold water to use on your eyes. This has started to become a recurring task, and somehow you felt like you were lying to Austin by doing this and acting like nothing is wrong.

After holding the washcloth over your eyes for a couple minutes, you lower your hands to examine your face in the mirror, only to see Austin standing in the doorway through the reflection in the mirror.

The look on his face breaks you, and for a second you feel like you’re going to start crying again.

Austin’s eyebrows are furrowed and he has this gentle look on his face. He’s still in his dress pants and buttoned down from dinner with his sleeves rolled above his elbows. You look away, not ready to look him in the eye and not really wanting to talk about it, but you already know he’s going to pry it out of you.

“You’re back early,” you say, trying to change the subject, even though it’s obviously not going to work. He was home early, though. He wasn’t supposed to be back for another hour.

What you don’t know is that he left early because he didn’t want to leave you home alone too long. He wouldn’t tell you that, though, because he knows how quilty you would feel.

When he got home, he noticed the house was a little too quiet, so he went looking around for you. He heard sniffles as he entered the bedroom, and that’s when he found you in the bathroom trying to clear your face.

He’s noticed the depletion of your mental health, but he’s been waiting for you to say something to him. He hates that it’s gotten to the point, and he can't help but feel like it’s his fault.

You set the towel down on the countertop, and play with the cloth to continue avoiding his gaze. You wait for him to say something, but nothing comes.

It’s silent for a moment — you not being ready to talk, and him not knowing what to say. Then, you hear the shuffling of his socks on the bathroom tile coming closer to you.

Austin grabs your hips to turn you towards him, and when you don’t move, he makes his grip more firm. You finally give in to face him, looking up at him with your red eyes, though the swelling has gone down from the cold washcloth.

He holds your face in his hands as he stares down at you. Your eyes move to the side to look at anything but him. He wraps his arms around you as he pulls you into his chest, not caring about his nice shirt getting soaked, and that’s when you break down again.

He gently shushes you as your cries get more intense and your body shakes. When you start to quiet down is when Austin opens his mouth.

“I know you don’t want to, but I need you to tell me what’s going on. I’ve been waiting for you to come to me because I didn’t want to pry, but baby if you’re breaking down like this, you need to let it out. If you didn’t want to tell me, then at least talk to someone,” he pleads as he soothes you by rubbing your back.

You pull away from his chest with his arms still around you. Using the back of your hands, you wipe your eyes and sniffle to try and clear your stuffy nose. You feel bad for the wet spot you left on his shirt.

“I just…I don’t know. I feel like such a failure because all I do is wake up, get on my laptop, sleep, and repeat. And I feel like I’m in the way because you’re out working, and each time you come back home, I’m still in the same spot you left me in. I’ve been a killjoy for you and I’ve been taking up space, and you’ve just had to deal with me all these months and I’m so, so, sorry. I-,”

“Stop, stop, stop,” Austin says softly as he cuts off your rambling, bringing his hands back to your face. “You have nothing to be sorry for, so don’t apologize.”

“But I-,” you begin to say, but Austin cuts you off again. Tears gather in your waterline once again, but they don’t fall.

“No, I’m serious. Don’t apologize. You’re not a failure, I don’t ever want you to say that or think that about yourself because it’s not true. You think every actor is booked everyday of the year? They’re not. All actors take breaks, and they do it because they need to. Shit happens. And you haven’t been a killjoy or taking up space, this place is yours as much as it is mine.”

His eyes don’t leave yours once throughout the whole speech. His heart breaks at the sight in front of him. Austin hates to see you cry.

“I want to take a break. I didn’t need to take a break. I did this to myself,” you tell him.

“Who cares. You don’t need to feel like you always need to have something going on. No one’s pressuring you to do anything — I’m not, and neither is the world. I'll always be on your side, and I will always be here for you because I love you. I need you to know that,” Austin tells you with a sad smile. He desperately needs you to know that you’re loved. “Do you know that?”

You nod in response to his question, but he shakes his head.

“I need to hear you say it.”

“Yes, I know,” you mumble, but Austin accepts it.

“And don’t you ever forget it. Also, I wouldn't care if you never moved again and left a dent in the mattress, as long as you’re here for me when I get home that’s all that matters to me,” he jokes, and you can’t help but let out a small laugh. “There’s that smile.”

You give him a shove, and he just laughs. Austin moves his hands down to gather your hand in each of his.

“Have you heard back from that role you auditioned for?” He asks hopefully, his eyebrows raised and his tone still soft.

“Nope,” you shake your head as you let out a gloomy sigh.

“Well you still have until the end of the month,” he tells you as he playfully begins to swing your hands in his.

“At least one of us is optimistic,” you tell him as you look down.

“One of us has to be,”he says as he brings one of your hands up to his mouth for him to kiss the back of it.

The next morning, you wake up with a headache, the one that always comes when you’ve been crying. You stay in bed, not quite ready to get up and face the day. Although the talk you had with Austin did make you feel better, you still have that voice in the back of your head.

Austin rolls over to see you staring at the ceiling. He wraps an arm around your waist as he scoots closer to you, studying your face. You look over at him once you feel his touch and give him a small smile.

“How ya feeling?” He asks you as he lifts the bottom of your shirt a little to reach the skin on your waist and begins to caress the skin.

“Pretty good,” you say genuinely.

“You know, you could just stay here in bed with me. I don’t have anything to do today,” he tells you as he moves his hand over your stomach to lightly tickle the skin there.

You laugh at the feeling. “I would love to, but I have a couple things to do and some emails to send.”

Austin groans as you slowly crawl out of bed away from his touch, and you just smile.

You brush your teeth and clean yourself up before you head to Austin’s office where you do most of your work. As you’re walking down the hallway towards the room you feel your phone vibrate in your hand.

You thought it was just a regular notification, so you raise your hand to quickly glance at your phone before going to put your hand back down by your side, but you stop yourself halfway.

A message had caught your eye. Your manager had messaged you saying:

- Check your email NOW!

You’re frozen for a second before picking up the pace to the office. Once you reach the desk, you don’t even bother to take a seat as you type in the password to your laptop.

All you need to see are the words “we are happy to offer you the role” before you let out an excited scream. Finally. You can finally stop stressing, get out of the house, and continue what you love doing.

Austin comes running into the room after your outburst and meets you with a confused face. “What’s wrong?” he asks, but once he sees the huge grin on face, he raises his eyebrows and a smile appears on his own lips. “Did you get it?”

You nod happily as you jump up and down, and Austin mirrors your actions with his toothbrush still in his mouth.

As he brings you in for a hug, he says, “I’m so proud of you, I knew you would get it.”

“No you didn’t,” you tell him as he squeezes you.

“Yes, I did. I knew you would get it because you're amazing and talented and smarter than me and-.”

“Austin,” you laugh as you cut him off, “enough.”

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Like a Snake

Feyd Rautha x reader

Warnings - 18+, oral sex (fem receiving), fingering, blood

Word count - 466

a/n - this is something I quickly wrote based on a post I made the other day about expecting Feyd to cut his tongue during his opening scene. Also I haven't written smut in over a month and I feel like I lost my ability to do so bc I struggled lol. I hope you enjoy :)

The other day Feyd had the bright idea to basically slice his tongue in half during a training match. One of his foot soldiers had handed him the wrong blade, causing Feyd to lose his temper. Earlier that day, Feyd had asked you to attend for support – not like he needs it – and you agreed because you had nothing better to do. However if you would’ve known you would be watching blood spill out his mouth you would’ve said no, you were never good with blood.

When you ran up to him, mainly to stop him from killing someone, he had said, “it was either this or his throat.”

Since Feyd wasn’t allowed to talk with his self-inflicted injury, it was kind of freeing not having to listen to his yelling and complaining. You’re sure the staff around the palace were pleased as well. Unfortunately, his injury didn’t prevent him from scowling at people any chance he had. 

Feyd was in a bad mood for the rest of the week, of course because he wasn’t able to talk to you, but also for the selfish reason that he couldn’t eat you out. He wanted to make up for lost time as soon as he was healed, telling you he wanted to try out his new tongue,

When he finally managed to get you on your back, he made a show of showing off his tongue before diving between your legs. You thought that it wouldn’t make you feel any different than any other time he went down on you, but you couldn’t have been more wrong.

He started off with sucking your clit, and you instantly let out a moan when you felt the two sides of his tongue sliding against you. Still, that was nothing compared to when he started to quickly flick his tongue against you like a snake causing your mouth to fall open as you stared up at the ceiling.

When you started squirming around too much Feyd wrapped his arms around your thighs and pressed his hands down on your stomach to keep you in place, but that didn’t stop you from trying. He pushed two fingers inside of you and began to swiftly move in and out when you felt you were drenched enough. The sound of the wet squelching coming from between your legs and the feeling of  his split tongue against your sensitive cunt was more than enough to make you cum.

Feyd let out a laugh when he looked up to see your hands gripping the blankets beneath you as your walls contracted against his fingers.

“That was kind of quick wasn’t it?” he asked with a tilt of his head as your body began to relax. He then smirked and said, “how about we try again?”