munsonmolls - Tumblr blog

munsonmolls · 2 years

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Operation get Mr Bucky and Momma together

Paring: Beefy and Teacher! Bucky x milf! reader

Summary: Bucky doesn't play favorites but Amaya is definitely his favorite, especially because her mom is hot.. Cue a 6-year-old trying to get Bucky to be her dad. {wc: 2.2k}

Warning: a bit of bucky being insecure but not that much, Karen parent being annoying, bucky is a fool but amaya is gonna fixed it.

a/n: I've been sitting on this for months but I had to step back from this account bc of everything. thankfully I finished this before my electricity went puff but not my best job. pls have mercy bc I'm rusty.

Bucky knew there weren’t many male first-grade teachers. But honestly, it was his dream job. He was teaching the country's future and helping them become better people.

Also, 6-year-olds love him, especially with his fantasy land classroom he forced Steve to help decorate. Bucky loved being a teacher, and he loved his kids. Relatively easy to get up every day at 6 am when you love your job.

That being said, he knows he shouldn’t have a favorite student. So it’s basically written in the teacher’s rule book.

But Amaya was undoubtedly his favorite of his unruly kids. She was very spirited. Amaya loved helping out her classmates and talking to them. She was just the best student he had ever had.

She is amusing. Every day she comes to him with a story about her mom. Unfortunately, Bucky hadn't met her yet because she was busy with work. Still, he interacted with Amaya’s second contact, Natasha.

At this point, Bucky feels like he knows her. How she likes tulips. Her favorite color is pink, which is Amaya’s favorite, but that’s a funny coincidence. He knows that Amaya and her mom go to the museum every week on the day they have special events for kids. Amaya’s favorite exhibit is the one about mythical creatures.

“Momma likes the one with the paintings. She likes the one with the man who gives the girl a flower.” Amaya tells Bucky. Amaya always goes to Bucky’s desk after finishing her classwork because if she doesn’t, she distracts her classmates. Or give her classmates the answers, so this is the only way to keep her entertained. She always takes this time to draw something for Bucky to hang on his wall of drawings.

“Oh, Mister Bucky! Momma is going to come to pick me up today.” Bucky cursed mentally, completely forgetting today was parent-teacher conference.

Talking to 6-year-olds was a lot easier than talking to adults. Especially when you are telling parents that their kids are having problems. The worst part of the job, honestly. If Bucky could just teach his kids, send letters to the parents, and never interact with them, he would.

“Going to meet the elusive Miss (Y/N)?” Steve, his best friend, asked. Because of budget cuts, Steve was currently the art teacher for the entire school. Did he like it? Probably not having the kindergarteners put glitter in his hair, but he enjoyed a challenge.

“Apparently,” Bucky mumbled, opening his lunch. Just a ham and cheese sandwich because he was running late.

“She finally showing up to a conference?” Sam asked, heating up his lunch. Sam was the history teacher for the 4th and 5th graders. He was also a pain in Bucky’s ass, but he decided not to think about it and focused on his incoming stomach ache.

Fuck, now Bucky had to clean his classroom and prepare everything. What if one of those Karen parents shows up and starts complaining about stupid things? About how his classroom is Lord of the Rings theme and how that's bad for kids? Maybe about how he’s a male teacher? He is already spiraling.

“Oh, you are talking about Amaya’s mom? I met her when I was Amaya’s kindergarten teacher. She’s really nice and - “ Wanda started talking but was interrupted by her twin brother Pietro, the gym teacher.

“She is also smoking hot. Like ultimate Milf in this whole school. ” He comments, which makes Bucky feel even worse because how will he talk with a pretty girl? He hasn’t done that since college.

Wanda rolled her eyes at her brother and sat down next to Steve to eat her lunch.

“You’ll be great though, Barnes. She’s really nice, and you are a great teacher, so you won’t have any problems with her.” Wanda reassures her coworker. Bucky takes a deep breath and takes another bite off his sandwich.

“And I still believe my son should be seated in the front.” Mrs. Robinson complained, which she had been doing for the past hour and a half. Going past the hour dialogue they are supposed to be having. But since Amaya’s mom is running late.

“Mrs. Robinson, I understand, but some kids in the classroom require specific accommodations. Because of that, the entire front row is taken. So I can’t sit Tommy in the front. “ Bucky explained for the 10th time. Mrs. Robinson just rolled her eyes and huffed.

Before she could complain again, someone knocked on the door. A woman in formal and professional clothing stepped into the classroom. Amaya popped into the classroom with the brightest smile.

“Mister Bucky! I brought Momma!” She screamed excitedly. Amaya’s mom tried to quiet her, but from Bucky’s experience, Amaya is impossible to corral.

“Well, Mrs. Robinson, my 4 o'clock is here.” Bucky said nervously, trying to politely kick out Mrs. Robinson and her big-ass attitude.

“We could discuss this further in another parent-teacher conference.” It took everything for Bucky not to roll his eyes. Fucking self-observed parents think their children are the only ones that matter, Bucky thinks to himself.

“Sorry for my tardiness; I got held up at work.” Amaya’s mom apologizes. Woah, she really is pretty, Bucky thinks.

“Don’t worry, Mrs. (Y/L/N).” Bucky says, trying to catch his breath.

“Please call me (Y/N).” She smiled sweetly at Bucky. Bucky gulped.

“Let me get to the point; Amaya is a fantastic student. One of the best. She is above her group’s reading level. She writes pretty clearly for her age. No complaints from me; whatever you are doing at home is workin’.” Bucky explained, (Y/N) smiling at her daughter, who was too entertained with Bucky’s snowball on his desk.

“Thank you, but I can’t take that much credit. Maya absolutely adores you.” Bucky blushes at her praise.

“She’s a good kid; it’s easy to teach kids like her.” Bucky praised Amaya, who was surprisingly quiet. Which would scare Bucky because if there’s one thing he learned from teaching first graders is that quiet means trouble. But he dismissed it because she wouldn’t do anything wild with her mom right next to her.

“Thank you, Mr. Barnes, for everything. With getting a new job and having to provide for my family, you’ve literally given me so much peace.” (Y/N) leaned in closer.

“If I am being honest, I was worried about ‘Maya’s performance at school. “ She whispered, but Bucky gave her a reassuring smile.

“Amaya, could you please give these papers to Mr. Rogers?” Amaya nodded and grabbed the papers Bucky had handed her. Then, Bucky sent a text to Steve telling him to keep Amaya out of his classroom to talk to her mom.

“I haven’t noticed a difference in her behavior if that makes you feel any better,” Bucky reassured her. She sighed.

“I am worried about her. Ever since she was born, her dad has been in and out of her life. Now he has disappeared for good. Amaya has been acting like it doesn’t bother her, but no first grader should hide their feelings.” She confesses. Bucky wants to do two things. 1) kick Amaya’s father for being a piece of shit and abandoning such a precious child and her mom. And 2) himself for getting excited by hearing that (Y/N) is single. He can already hear his mother chastising him.

“I’m so sorry to hear that (Y/N).” Bucky said earnestly. She just shook her head.

“It’s okay. Any advice for me?” She said in a joking tone, trying to alleviate the tension. Bucky lets out a nervous chuckle.

“Just keep being there. In my experience, being present and making the child feel like they have a support system is the best way to help them during this difficult time.” Bucky smiled at her.

“Thank you. See you on Monday?” (Y/N) said, getting up from her chair.

“Yes. Definitely.” Bucky felt his heart beating at a faster pace.

This school year was definitely going to be interesting. So Bucky thinks, watching Y/N walking out of his classroom.

What Bucky doesn’t know is that Amaya plans to make life more enjoyable. She was supposed to be sleeping, but she heard Auntie Tasha’s voice and decided to say hi.

“Nat, you could’ve warned me, you know!” (Y/N) explained. Natasha laughed, handing her best friend a glass of wine.

“He is hot, isn't he?” Natasha grins. Amaya looked at her mom, who had a goofy smile. She has never seen her mom with a smile like that.

“Ridiculously hot. And his eyes? Nat, his eyes are just so gray. I almost spilled my entire life story right there and then.” (Y/N) groans. Natasha just laughs.

“It should be illegal to have a first-grade teacher look that hot.” (Y/N) added, grabbing a handful of popcorn.

“Just wait till you see him in casual Fridays. That man looks excellent in a Henley. “ Natasha joked, but that seemed to disturb (Y/N) even more. “Look out ‘Maya you might have a new daddy.”

What auntie Tasha said made Amaya think. Mister Bucky was her favorite teacher, and she wished her momma would be happy. Them together would mean that she would have Mister Bucky around forever, and Momma would be happy and have a goofy smile like that forever.

That’s when Operation get Mr. Bucky and Momma together was born.

Every day after finishing her classwork, Amaya would go to Bucky’s desk and talk to him. Most of the things she said were little seeds to push him to get close to her mom.

Today was different; Amaya’s patience was thinning. A week passed, and every day when her mom would pick her up, she saw the googly eyes her mom and Mister Bucky were giving each other. It’s time for the big guns, Amaya thought.

“Mister Bucky, do you have a dad?” Buck was shocked at Amaya’s question.

“Yes, I do.” Amaya sighed dramatically after hearing Bucky’s answer.

“I don’t… I wish I knew what that was like.” Bucky’s heart broke hearing that. Amaya had her head down, but Bucky couldn’t see her smirk.

“You will one day. I promise.” Bucky knew he shouldn’t say that but wanted to uplift her and give her hope.

“Hey, Mister Bucky, maybe you could be my dad!” Amaya said, doing a complete 180 in her demeanor. Bucky almost spits out his coffee, and he starts to cough. But unfortunately, he fell right into Amaya’s trap.

“I don’t know about that, Amaya,” Amaya smirks.

“But Mister Bucky, momma already likes you. You would be a great dad.” Was it embarrassing for Bucky that his 6-year-old student was trying to hook him up with her mom? Maybe but hearing that said mom liked him did give him a bit of an ego.

“Really?” Amaya nodded enthusiastically.

“She said that she really likes your eyes.” Amaya admitted. Bucky knew he shouldn’t be asking these questions. If Sam knew, he wouldn’t hear the end of it.

“Is there anything else she said?” Bucky asked, acting casually as if a 6-year-old was gonna read his body language. However, Amaya is too smart for her own good.

“I heard her telling Auntie Jen that she liked it when you wear red shirts.” Bucky made a note to buy more red shirts after school.

“Is your mom going to pick you up today?” Bucky asked; Amaya nodded.

“She said we were going to the mall today,” Amaya explained. She could feel her plan working, but who knows? Grown-ups were weird.

Bucky’s heart needs to catch a break. That being said, seeing (Y/N) every afternoon, his poor heart won't be getting any. Especially when she came in with her lawyer suits. It was like a punch in the gut.

But what really hit him like a punch in the gut was what Amaya said when her mom came to pick her up.

She grabbed Bucky’s hand and pulled him towards her mom, who was waiting outside the classroom.

“Momma, Bucky said he would be my daddy.” Amaya said with the biggest grin. Bucky choked on his own saliva and started coughing. While (Y/N) just started laughing.

“Did he now?” (Y/N) asked her daughter, that was excited that her plan “worked.”

“I- uhm. I didn’t say that she took it out of context. But, I mean- I” Bucky’s ramble was interrupted by (Y/N).

“It’s okay, Mr. Barnes. I know how Amaya can be. Don’t worry.” Bucky sighed out of relief.

“Mommaaaaa…” Amaya whined; her mom just rolled her eyes.

“Yes, ‘Maya?” (Y/N) asked in a snarky tone. Amaya signaled to her to lean down. Amaya whispered something to her. (Y/N) giggled with her daughter.

“Mr. Barnes, would you like to go out for coffee someday?” (Y/N) asked, Amaya still giggling behind her mom.

“I would love to.” Bucky said, which caused Amaya to do a little victory dance in the back. As if nobody could see her. (Y/N) turned around and laughed at her daughter’s antics. She pulled something out of her jacket, a piece of paper.

“I have to go, Mr. Barnes. Sorry for my little troublemaker.”She said, handing him the piece of paper with her personal phone number. Bucky was confused.

“What is this for?” Bucky asked, utterly confused about what this meant.

“For whenever you would like to get that cup of coffee.” She told him, grabbing Amaya’s hand and walking towards his card.

Bucky felt his cheeks heat up. He might admit that Amaya was his favorite student, even if she played matchmaker.

He looked down at the card. Oh, he is gonna call.

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munsonmolls · 2 years

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Revenge

Reader whose Chrissy’s best friend despite differing social circles and is dating Eddie. Eddie notices Reader pacing on night after getting off the phone then turns to him with a “I need your help with something. We can never talk about it again and we’re gonna destroy some property.” Eddie of course being the loving boyfriend he is just asks “whose are we gonna take?”

Turns out the help with something is trashing Jason Carver’s car after he and Chrissy finally broke up. Chrissy and Eddie basically watch reader going to town on Jason’s car and it’s like

“Chris, ya know her ring size?”

“Yeah why?”

“Because I’m gonna ask that girl to marry me.”

Request by anon ❤ Hope you like it, wrote it quicker than expected ❤

Warnings; destruction of property.

❤

Eddie never liked when his girl was upset and since she had come off the phone she was pissed.

Chrissy had been the one who had called y/n and he knew the call was serious.

Despite their different social circles, Chrissy Cunningham was her best friend, they adored each other and were as close as could be.

Y/n was even considering setting Chrissy up with Gareth after Chrissy admitted that she had a crush on the him.

The only thorn in her side was Jason Carver, Chrissy's boyfriend who was an asshole. She hated him with a passion.

"What's wrong princess?". He asks her concerned and she turns to him pissed.

"Baby, I need your help with something?". He would do anything for his princess so he was all ready to agree.

"Jason broke up with Chrissy and I want to exact some revenge, Chrissy and I have always agreed that if any boyfriend of ours fucked up we would take revenge for each other or together, I need help wrecking some property but we must never speak of it again".

Eddie chuckles, if Jason was stupid enough to fuck up then that was his problem. Eddie had his dream girl in y/n and he never planned to lose his princess so he wasn't unnerved by this.

Pity that asshole Jason though because once his girl had her mind set on something that was it and who was he to spoil her fun?

Some of his friends said he was too soft, he could never say no to y/n blah blah blah, she was his girl and he would always do anything to help her so he didn't care what they thought.

"What do you need baby?" he asks without any hesitation.

"I'm going to bust up that asshole's car, he dared to cheat on my best friend and calls her up to dump her and gloat. The fucker is going down".

Eddie is gleeful. He can't stand the prick and he's in heavy agreement with y/n that Chrissy and Gareth who had been spending a lot of time together were better suited.

"I need to call Steve" she muses and he frowns.

"Harrington? What for?" she smirks impishly and begins to dial his number.

"I need to borrow something".

❤

They didn't execute their plan until a few days later, once Jason was comforted that he thought that he got away with humiliating Chrissy.

It was past midnight, darkness had fallen as Eddie had told y/n to do this at night, fewer witnesses and low visibility would help the revenge plot and keep his girl out of trouble.

Jason's parents were away and Jason was off being an asshole somewhere else for the night.

Gareth had tagged along as he had plucked up the courage to ask Chrissy out, this was after the date and both seemed to be very much smitten with one another.

Y/n's borrowed item from Steve was his nail bat which was slung across her shoulder, she looked so badass and Eddie was drooling.

"You are so fucking, sexy princess". She winks at him and holds up the bat then goes to town on the vehicle.

Eddie watches her in awe and turns to Chrissy.

...

"Chrissy do you know y/n's ring size?". Chrissy smiles and nods.

"Yeah why?". He watches his girl dreamily and says with a smile on his face.

"Because I'm going to marry that girl".

❤

The very next day Jason was at school and fuming about his car, he confronted everyone but people were so pissed he hurt Chrissy that no one was talking.

Spotting them at the Hellfire table, Chrissy perched on Gareth's knee he stalks towards them.

"It was you assholes I know it, you little bitch I bet it was you". He hisses to y/n and Eddie who was in the middle of planting gentle kisses on his girl's shoulder and enticing little giggles out of her looks up and glares at Carver.

"Talk to my girl like that again Carver and you'll be picking up your teeth alongside broken glass and car parts".

Jason flushes with anger.

"Someone wrecked my car!". Y/n smirks at him and mock coos to him.

"Aww, too bad so sad". Chrissy grins and hides her smile in Gareth's shoulder as Jason storms off.

"Yup Eddie murmurs, to his Princess, I'm definitely marrying you, sweetheart".

❤

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munsonmolls · 2 years

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every time i sit down 2 watch a horror movie i think of that one tweet :/

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munsonmolls · 2 years

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Devil's Food - Eddie Munson x Reader (18+)

WC: 3.4K / navi / preview / request

Summary: A few weeks ago, Eddie decided on a rather bold body mod: splitting his tongue. Now that it's finally healed, you become devil's food, his first experimental meal

Contents/Warnings: smut (minors dni), oral sex (f receiving), lots and lots of kissing, nipple/boob play, gratuitous use of the nickname 'angel', looots of angel/devil dynamics

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

Three weeks. Three weeks of nothing but liquids, nonsensical babbles, and pitiful whimpers of pain, and Eddie’s tongue is finally healed. You’ve been eating with him out of solidarity, but if you never have to have another bowl of bland soup you’ll be the happiest person in the world.

Crumpled up papers are strewn around the room, scribbled down notes from Eddie when his newly-forked tongue failed him in verbal eloquence. You admit, you are going to miss hearing him ask you for applesauce, a slight lisp invading his words and softening them on his split tongue.

Body-mods are an exciting adventure for you and Eddie. A tattoo here, and piercing there, but nothing as bold as splitting his tongue until now. He’d expressed an interest in the devilish procedure for months before he’d finally gained the courage to go and have it done, and though the recovery period almost made him regret it, he’s happy with his decision.

So happy, in fact, that he’s been performing tricks for you all day.

“Babe,” He babbles, teeth hitting his tongue clumsily “Look!”

You turn to glance at him, watching as he smooths his tongue over his lips, each side going in a different direction. It sends a shiver down your spine and you congratulate him, a slight fluttering in your belly.

“Holy shit, Eddie, that’s cool.”

“I know!” He laughs giddily, “God, think of all the sweet shitI can do with this.”

“Like?” You prompt him, knowing he’s going to torment his friends with it, or make it the subject of many cryptic pictures to come.

“Like,” He drags the word out, the two sides of his tongue trembling slightly with the effort of staying together while he speaks, “Kissing.”

He starts off strong, and you wonder if, all along, he’s been thinking about it too. A sly smirk grows on your face despite your efforts to hold it back, “Oh? You think it would be better?”

“You tell me,” He shrugs, suavely gripping your face in his hand and tugging your jaw towards him, “You’re the one gettin’ kissed.”

Then he kisses you, and it’s unlike anything you’ve felt before. His tongue snakes into your mouth instantly, all formalities forgotten. Instead of leading you in slowly he devours you, his tongue flicking around your own and up against the roof of your mouth in its vigor.

You rear backwards, away from the incredibly ticklish sensation with a shriek, “Eddie!”

He’s laughing at you, deep and hearty and from the chest, “What, you can’t take it? Too ticklish?”

He lunges at you, the smirk on his face only growing wider as you scramble to get away from him. But his hands are already on your sides, squeezing and poking and prodding up your ribs to make you squirm.

“Eddie stop!” You beg, tears brimming in your eyes from how hard they’re squeezed shut in glee, “It tickles!”

“It’s supposed to!” He wrestles you beneath him, pinning you down as he straddles your lap and leans down to kiss you again. It’s a short one, with much less tongue this time, but the split muscle laps at your lips once he pulls away. Then he drags it along his own lips once more, humming thoughtfully as it recedes back into his mouth, “You got new chapstick?”

“Pineapple-coconut.” You announce proudly, his sticky saliva drying on your lips as you speak.

“It’s delicious,” He decides, “I might kiss it all off of you.”

A kiss is pressed once more to your lips to accentuate his point. You roll your eyes fondly, “You’ve gotten a lot bolder since splitting your tongue.”

“What can I say?” He has a shit-eating grin on his lips as he stares down at you, his hands braced on your stomach, “Now I’m the devil in disguise.”

His cheesy reference has you groaning exasperatedly, “Eddie, that’s lame.”

“Lame?!” He roars and rears his head back dramatically, then cups your cheeks, squishing them together, “How dare you. I have never been lame.”

“Yes you have,” You giggle, your words slightly distorted from how your lips are forcibly puckered, “Remember when you used to have a crush on me? Before we were together,” You reminisce fondly, reaching up to toy with a strand of his messy hair as he hovers over you, curling it through your fingers, “You were always stuttering, and you always offered to give me a ride home, even if it was inconvenient for you, and you bought me a school lunch when I forgot the money for mine, and you-”

He cuts you off with a hand over your mouth, letting your cheeks go. Staring down at you, his eyes light up with indignation, a bashful smirk on his face, “Fine. Maybe I was lame. But you liked it.”

“I did.” You speak from behind his hand, your lips brushing against his skin while you speak. Then you press a soft kiss to his palm, your eyes sparkling with adoration as you gaze dreamily up at him.

A silence falls over the room, serene and fuzzy. It tickles your tummy, makes your heart melt as you watch his grin slowly grow. It starts small, fading out from his smirk but still curving his lips up. Then his teeth poke out, his lashes fluttering as he blinks dazedly down at you.

“Love you, Eddie.” You voice the feeling you knew was consuming him too, reaching up to turn his hand over from where it was clamped over your mouth. He watches fondly as you kiss each of his rings, then an extra to the pad of his thumb, the skin rough under your lips.

“I love you too,” He drones wistfully, bending his arms at the elbows and slowly lowering down to lay on top of you. He’s heavy, nearly crushing you with his weight, but it’s a comforting feeling and you lean into it.

His head nestles snugly against your chest, your breasts squished beneath his cheek. It’s his favorite place to be, beside your heartbeat, and coincidentally, below your neck.

You feel it only seconds later. A soft flick of his forked tongue at your collarbones. The muscle slides smoothly around your protruding bone, sending a shiver down your spine. He feels it.

A soft grin grows against your skin, pride radiating off of it, “You like that?”

“It feels.. Different.” You decide, waiting with bated breath to see if he persists.

Of course, he does.

Another lap at your skin, “Good different?” then a kiss to the base of your throat.

“Great different,” You breathe, feeling his hands shift to your hips.

“I knew you’d like it.” He mumbles against your throat, his lips parting slightly to latch onto a patch of your skin. Hickies feel different with Eddie’s tongue split, now there’s two directions it can go in, and each side swirls differently around the skin before he begins sucking.

“I missed this.” He murmurs, his teeth nipping at your skin, your hands fisted in the back of his shirt, “I haven’t been able to taste you for a while, baby.”

“Taste- Taste me?” Your eyes grow wide, though you aren’t sure why, you know where this is heading.

“Your neck,” He clarifies, pressing a kiss to the slightly sore spot he’d just been suckling on, “Your pussy.”

“Eddie!” You whine, soft warmth pooling between your thighs at how forward he was being, “Eddie please, I need you, ‘need your tongue.”

“I know,” He croons, “I’m gonna make you see stars tonight, babe.”

He hasn’t even started yet, and you know he’ll keep his promise. The feeling of his tongue, slick with saliva and split down the middle snaking along your neck had been ecstasy, and you’re certain it’ll feel a thousand times better buried in your cunt.

He follows your train of thought, dragging his tongue down and flicking it below the neckline of your shirt. Your stomach caves, your nipples already reacting to his close proximity and stiffening beneath your shirt. You’re infinitely grateful you hadn’t bothered to wear a bra today.

Eddie seems delighted at the sight of your bare skin beneath your top, “Oh, were you planning on this, sweetheart? ‘Wanted t’be ready in case I was all healed?”

You nod, whimpering bashfully behind your lips as they press together, “Mhm. ‘Knew you’d want t’touch me.”

“Oh, really now?” His split tongue seems to be giving him all the confidence of a devil, that’s for sure, because he’s oozing cockiness as he laps at the underside of your breast, “Well, I hate to admit it, sweetheart, but you’re right. You gave me a pretty solid three weeks of favors,” He recalls the sloppy, hazy blowjobs you’d helped him through his healing process with, the boy above you reduced to mere whimpers and blubbers at the feeling of your tongue around his cock, “I think I owe you a thank-you.”

He’s certainly not blubbering now, as his forked tongue flicks around the bead of your nipple. You gasp at the sudden sensation, having gotten used to the warm, wet presence at the base of your breast, and his ringed hand tightens around your other tit.

“Sensitive,” He marvels, the palm of his hand flush to your other perked nipple, putting pressure against it that has your stomach bottoming out, “Does it feel better this way, angel?”

“Yes,” You nod, your head shifting against the pillow beneath it, “Yes!”

“I can tell,” Eddie muses, slotting your nipple between both sides of his tongue, “I can feel you shaking, y’know..”

You suppose you are shaking. A thigh tremble here, the slight flutter of your stomach. Becoming devil’s food is exhilarating to say the least, and you can feel warmth bleeding through your core.

“Poor, sweet angel.” Eddie laments, lips pressing in a pucker to your tit, “You were puttin’ that pretty mouth of yours all over me, weren’t’cha? And I just got to lay there.” He hums sympathetically against your skin, “Well it’s your turn now.”

He moves to your other boob, fingers pinching at the saliva-coated, sensitive nipple that he’d just released from his mouth. He ravishes the other just the same, tongue swirling and flicking and splitting over the hardened bud.

“Just relax, sweetheart.” You’re sure he’s teasing you, because his words fan the flames in your belly, they don’t put them out so that you can relax. But he presses on, his breath against your nipple coming out hazy and gruff, “‘Gonna take care of you, now.”

He sends one last fond squeeze to your nipple, retracting his tongue slowly after. The air of his bedroom is much cooler than you’d prefer, drying his saliva on you and giving your skin a sticky sheen.

Though his tongue is no longer skating across the sensitive skin of your chest, he trails it down your stomach, flicking it into the dip of your belly button. You shriek at the unexpected ticklish sensation, craning up to swat at his shoulders.

“Eddie!” You chide, covering your tummy protectively, “That tickles.”

“Sor-ryI.” He huffs, “‘M not allowed to have a little fun?”

“Not now,” You whimper, fire slowly burning through your core and up into your belly, heat pooling there, “Please jus’ touch me.”

Sympathy, sticky and sweet, twists up Eddie’s face. He presses a soft, gentle kiss to the skin of your inner thigh, his nose rutting into the crease between your thigh and your waist.

“I’m sorry, angel.” He croons, nuzzling his face into your soft skin, “I’m just teasing.”

“Don’t!” You insist, your bottom lip protruding in a picturesque pout, “Need your- ah!”

Eddie is very good at following directions, at least when he wants to. You know this, you’ve known this for a while, so when you ask him to eat you out, and he does, it shouldn’t come as a shock.

But it does, the forked muscle prodding at your slit, sliding over your entrance, has you jolting. You’d asked him to do it, you’re not sure why it surprises you.

“Fuck,” You swear, the sound harsher and more guttural than you’d have imagined possible coming from your throat, “Jesus Christ!”

“Eddie Munson,” Eddie corrects you, and you feel the smug smirk on his lips as they press to your core, “But you were pretty close.”

“Shut up,” You scoff, reaching down to grab a strand of his hair and yank it, “I said stop teasing!”

The groan that he lets out at the feeling of you tugging his hair is unintentional, but it only fans the flames of desire that burn in your belly. His tongue prods harder at your entrance, finally slipping past your slit and delving into your cunt, and he’s not expecting the gush of slick that rushes out to meet him.

“Shit,” He swears, the word near-unintelligible when murmured into your cunt, “So fuckin’ wet, sweetheart.”

He laps at you like a man damned, sucking nectar from the font of life. You’re his ambrosia, his last meal, his saving grace from the way his tongue devours your weeping cunt.

You can hear your arousal on his tongue, the sticky liquid tripping up his words and dripping down his chin, leaving his skin a shiny, glistening mess. He noses fondly at your clit, swiping his tongue up with a squelch to lap at it, “Have you thought about this before now?”

“Mhm,” You nod, one hand still tangled in Eddie’s locks, “Ever- ever since you got it done. Since.. Since before the procedure, too. Just hearin’ you talk about it was enough.

He chuckles, the sound low, deep, and vibrating through your cunt, “Oh? Well, looks like my sweet little angel isn’t much of an angel at all, are you? You’re a slut.”

He spits the word out like a bad bite of food, like something that churns his stomach and puts a frown on his face. So why does it have a pang of arousal shooting through your core?

“A filthy little slut,” He goes on, mouthing sloppily at your cunt as his words get lost between your thighs, his nose now firmly bumping your clit, “Who can’t stop thinkin’ about my tongue.”

Between long, smooth, silky strokes through your cunt, the tips of both sides of Eddie's tongue flick teasingly against your clit. It makes you writhe, his ringed fingers curling around your thighs to hold you down.

"What," He simpers, his voice vibrating through your weeping cunt, "'S too much for you? I thought you were begging," He presses his tongue flat against your slit, words coming out mottled as he holds pressure there for a split second, "For my tongue."

"Eddie," You speak through a strangled gasp, his devilish tongue lapping up the divine substance that flows freely from your pretty pussy, "Eddie please, don't tease me!"

"My sweet angel," He croons, popping a kiss to your puffy clit, "'M I bein' too mean to you?"

You nod feverishly against the pillow behind you, relishing in the reward you get in the form of a stroke of Eddie's tongue through your cunt.

"I'll play nice now, sweetheart." Eddie promises, and you've never understood the expression 'speaking with a forked tongue' until now. He does not play nice, both sides of his tongue curl around your clit and slot it between them, then squeeze, and you're nearly blacking out.

The moan that falls from your lips, sinful and wanton, only makes his tongue squeeze harder around your clit. The pressure is firm, but his tongue is soft and spongy, and interesting combination that, when paired with his fingers raking through your gaping cunt, has your orgasm rocketing towards you.

Your hips lift off of the bed, and you unconsciously press your pussy even further into Eddie’s face, “Eddie, more! More, please!”

“Greedy,” He taunts you, dropping his tongue from your clit to your cunt once more, his nose resuming its earlier position against the hypersensitive bundle of nerves. His tongue, forked and writhing, delves into your cunt, prodding and pressing and pushing against your walls and stretching you with every lithe flicker. His fingers are still pumping lower, working you further open than you thought was possible. The final straw comes when he braces his tongue flat against your cunt, dragging it tantalizingly firmly through the mess of slick through your entrance, and up to your clit, soaking it in your own arousal. The soft flick of his forked tongue, each side brushing against your sensitive bud, paired with the warm gush of arousal that coats it, sends you over the edge, your hips stuttering where you’re holding them off of the bed and your hand tightening in his hair.

You ride out your orgasm on his tongue, using the fistful of hair that you’ve grabbed to mash his face further into your cunt. You’re surprised he can breathe, but you’re certain that if he had to choose oxygen or your throbbing cunt, he’d choose you anyday. He groans into your cunt, deep, raspy ‘good girl’s only furthering your stimulation as you rock against his face. His nose repeatedly bumps your clit, a rhythm that helps you cum until every last jolt of pleasurable stimulation has turned to a mild burning sensation.

“Eddie,” You moan pathetically, your stomach still aflame, “My god, that- that was so good.”

“I can tell,” He smirks, slick still smeared over his chin and even shining on his nose. He licks his lips, once more showing off his tongue tricks as each side separates to slide over a different side of his mouth. Once he has your arousal gathered on his tongue he stands from between your thighs, giving your pussy a fond pat that makes you jolt in your place.

“I take it you like my tongue,” Eddie drawls amusedly, joining you on the bed once more, and hovering over where you’re still flat on your back with a pillow under your head.

“Yeah,” You nod, breathless as you try mustering a smile through your post-orgasm haze, “Yeah, that was- wow.”

“Wow.” He nods, using his thumb to swipe away a smear of slick on his nose and offering it up to you. You eagerly surge forwards to wrap your lips around his thumb, loving the way that he presses the pad of his finger against your tongue and watches your throat bob while you suckle him.

“All clean,” He tuts after a moment, pulling his finger out of your mouth, “Now let’s get the rest, angel.”

He leans forward, chin jutted out slightly. You’re only confused for a second on what to do, then your tongue snakes out of your mouth, much more in one piece than his is, and swipes across his chin. The taste of your own cum is one you’ve grown used to while dating Eddie, because he’s very eager to kiss you with it all over his mouth. You clean him up with long, languid strokes of your tongue, raking over his chin, lips, and flicking once against his nose. He chuckles deep and genuine, then presses his lips to your own, his tongue still stained with your arousal as it darts between your lips.

Kissing Eddie has always involved a lot of tongue, but now that it’s the feature of the day, it’s relentless. He flicks it over your lips, rolls it languidly against your tongue, and you swear no one has ever gotten closer to actually sticking their tongue down your throat. Each side of his tongue roves independently over your own, and the sensation draws a whine out of you, long and desperate and needy.

He only pulls away to tease you, nudging his nose against your own and pressing his forehead to yours, “I think this is the most fucked-out I’ve ever seen you, and I only used my tongue.”

“‘Feels really good,” You absentmindedly hum, already pressing your lips to his once more to try and entice him, “Like- like the best I’ve ever felt, Eds.”

“Really?” He quirks an eager eyebrow up, “Well, I suppose we’ll have to do that again, then.”

“Please.” You nod feverishly, playing with the strand of hair you’d yanked on only minutes prior.

“Well you helped me a lot while I was healing,” Eddie muses casually, though there’s heavy intent behind his words, “What, like every night? Really seems unfair I only help you once.”

“Wait!” Your eyes widen as his hand snakes over your waist, already squeezing your hip suggestively, “Water first.”

“Water?” Eddie echoes incredulously, a frown tugging his brows down, “You’d rather have water than my tongue?”

“Eddie I’m gonna pass out,” You insist, still fuzzy-headed from your orgasm, “I need water.”

“Whatever you say,” He chuckles, untangling himself from you as he trudges to the kitchen to fetch you a glass, “But you’d better chug it, babe, ‘cause we’re shooting for three more before lunch.”

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