👀👍 The irresistible charm of an older Eddie Munson is impeccably written by this amazing writer!!!
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: your father, jason carver, promises you one thing and can’t deliver it to you. you decide to get back at him and it him where it really hurts: eddie munson. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: older!eddie munson x carver&cunningham!daughter!reader (READER IS JASON AND CHRISSY’S DAUGHTER) 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: age gap (reader is 18, eddie is 56), brat!reader, mentions of birth control, genital piercings, smut (MINORS DNI): p in v sex, unprotected sex, spitting, blowjobs, slapping, choking, pain kink, praise kink, master kink, daddy kink 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: PLEASE REMEMBER THAT READER IS JASON AND CHRISSY’S DAUGHTER, WHICH MEANS THAT READER IS IMPLIED TO BE WHITE! if you do not like this, then this is not the fic for you. however, i worked super hard on this and many people want to read it, so i'm reposting it. thank you, and peace and love <3
Why the fuck were you here? The trailer park was dark and quiet in the nighttime, and you crossed your arms over your chest as you walked from your car to the front door of the trailer. You kept repeating it to yourself— what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck— as you knocked on the door of the trailer, and you heard a rustling from inside as the occupant moved around. You had certainly woken him up, and your palms felt sweaty. You were being stupid. You should just turn around and apologize to your father and forget the entire thing, but, just as you were turning on your heel to get back into your car, the door flew open.
“Umm,” the older man started. “Can I help you?”
You sighed. You knew Eddie Munson from a distance, solely as the mechanic who worked on your car from time to time— time to time meant at least once a month because, even though your dad had bought you a nice car for your 18th birthday present, he hadn’t bought you a good car. The cherry-red Porsche sat behind you, the very same car that Eddie fixed often, and he peered over your shoulder at it. “Is something wrong with your car?” he asked. “It couldn’t wait ‘til the shop opened at 8?”
“No, no, nothing’s wrong with my car,” you mumbled. “Well… Actually, it’s started making this weird noise when I start it up, but that’s— That’s for later. No, um, my dad’s pissed me off super bad tonight, and I just, umm, figured you could… help…? Maybe?”
“Your dad, huh?” Eddie asked. He leaned back inside the trailer for a moment, and you nearly thought he would slam the door in your face, but all he did was grab a green-and-white carton of Newports and a lighter. He slotted a cigarette between his lips and gestured at you to talk, and you watched his tattooed fingers flick the Zippo and light up his cigarette before you swallowed thickly. “What’s he done?”
“Well, um,” you started. “Do you know who my dad is?”
“No clue, sweetheart,” Eddie said. He blew out a mouthful of smoke and plucked the cigarette from between his lips, and he rubbed his big hand down his salt-and-pepper facial-haired chin. “Who is he?”
“Jason Carver,” you said slowly. “You went to high school together?”
“Carver,” Eddie spat. “Yeah, I remember Carver.” He crossed his arms, the sleeves of his wrinkled shirt tightening around his muscles, and you bit your lip as his tattooed skin pulled with it. Eddie had tattoos everywhere, on his neck and arms and hands and fingers, behind his ear and on his throat, and you wondered exactly where else he had tattoos. “He made my life a living hell.”
“Yeah, he’s doing the same thing to me,” you grumbled.
“No way, wait,” Eddie laughed incredulously. “You’re Carver’s daughter? The valedictorian, captain of the cheer team, that’s you?”
“Well, jeez, don’t make fun of me,” you pouted. “How do you know that?” For all that Eddie seemed to know about you, you knew very little about him: he had a smoking problem and an ex-wife problem, you were sure of that, but anything else was a mystery to you.
“Heard it around town,” Eddie shrugged. “I didn’t think that Carver could make something as pretty as you. You don’t even have his big ears or anything.”
You couldn’t help but laugh, and you covered your mouth as you smiled. “Dad does have big ears,” you said softly. You almost missed how Eddie had complimented you, and you pushed your hair behind your ear as you chewed your lip. “But Dad’s fucked up, and I’m really pissed.”
“What did he do?” Eddie asked, puffing on his cigarette again. “Took away your vape or something?”
“I’m not that shallow,” you huffed. “It’s just that… It’s a little stupid. I mean, it’s a lot stupid, it’s the stupidest thing in the world, but, umm, I have a bunch of friends that are going to Paris for their graduation trip, and Dad said that I could go, but, tonight, he just hit me with this whole thing of, like, ‘oh, it’s too expensive, we just bought you the Porsche’, but I didn’t ask for the Porsche and he told me I could go before he even bought me the stupid car, and I’m just—”
“Hey, easy,” Eddie said, reaching out and putting a hand on your shoulder. “Take a breath. So, he told you that you could go on this trip, but now he’s saying you can’t?”
“And he promised me!” you whined. “He said I could go, but now he’s-he’s being such a dick! He said that he can’t afford the trip and the car, but I didn’t even want the car in the first place! It’s not fair!”
“Oh, sweetheart, calm down,” Eddie said, and he steered you into his trailer, shutting the door with his foot once you had crossed in. The trailer was messy but clean, smelling like laundry soap and cigarette smoke, and Eddie fell back onto his couch and patted the empty space next to him, inviting you down. You knew that, once you sat next to him, your plan would fully be in motion, and your heart beat quickly. “C’mon, sit down, tell me all about it.”
“Aren’t you angry I’m bothering you this late?” you mumbled.
“Not angry,” Eddie said. “I’m just… Your dad pretty much ruined my life in high school, and it’s petty of me, but I wanna make sure you know that you’re not alone. Your dad’s been a bully since day one, and it’s not fair, you’re right. If he promised you something like this and then rolled back his promise, that’s not fair. But, sweetheart, I mean this in the nicest way, but you’re also acting like a huge fuckin’ brat.”
“I am not!” you said quickly. “You just said it, you agree it’s not fair!”
“Yeah, but why’re you here?” Eddie asked. “You couldn’t, like, call one of your friends to cry about it? You had to come to me? Baby, I was asleep, it’s one in the fucking morning.”
“Well, God, sorry it took me so long to get ready!” you snapped.
“Get ready for what?” Eddie asked. “Don’t tell me you did all of this—” he wagged his finger up and down your body, obviously talking about your dress and shaved legs and perfect makeup, “Just to come out to the trailer park to talk to me.”
“Alright, I won’t tell you,” you said quickly. Eddie’s eyes widened for a moment, and he started to ruefully laugh, pushing himself up from the couch.
“I see what this is,” he said. “You’re pissed at your dad, so you think that if you, I don’t know, sleep with me or something, you’ll be getting back at him. Right?” He looked at you, and you clenched your back teeth. He had hit the nail directly on the head, but you didn’t want to give yourself away that easily. What’s the fun in that?
“I just wanted to talk to someone else who understands how awful my dad is,” you spat. “I’m not a slut, Mr. Munson! And you’re more than twice my age, probably three times my age, I bet you can’t even fuck anymore anyway! As if I’d wanna fuck a freak like you!”
“A freak, huh?” Eddie said. “Apple fell in a straight line from the tree.”
“Fuck you,” you seethed. Now he was seriously making you mad. “I am nothing like my dad.”
“Oh, really?” Eddie asked, narrowing his eyes. “‘Cause all I see in front of me is a little princess who’s throwing a tantrum ‘cause she didn’t get her way. Aw, the rich girl can’t go to Paris with her friends ‘cause Daddy bought her a Porsche? Boo-fucking-hoo, cry me a river, sweetheart. Your dad got everything he ever wanted, and you’re exactly like him.”
“Fuck you,” you said again, and hot tears needled at your eyes. No. No crying in front of him. Absolutely not.
“Is that all you can think about?” Eddie asked. “Fucking me?”
You huffed and stood up, stepping forward to leave and to try to forget the entire interaction, but Eddie’s inked hand shot out and grabbed your arm. His grip was tight, his eyes dark and hard, and he rolled his cigarette in-between his lips. “Wait just a second, baby,” Eddie said. “Listen, you are being a little princess and a brat and a total pain in the ass, but… I’d be lying if I told you that you weren’t a pretty little thing. Sometimes I wonder how Carver’s daughter could be so pretty, then I remember you’re also Chrissy’s kid. God, baby, I had such a crush on your mom in high school.”
“Ew,” you sneered. “You’re gonna fuck me ‘cause I look like my mom?”
“No,” Eddie said. “I’m gonna fuck you ‘cause I know it’ll make your dad so angry, it’ll probably kill him.”
“So you are gonna fuck me?” you asked.
“You’re 18?” Eddie asked, and you nodded. “Show me your license.”
“I’m not lying,” you said, but Eddie raised his eyebrows at you. “Fuck, fine.” You tugged your wallet out of a pocket on your jacket and flipped it to show him your driver’s license, and he scoured it until he found your birthday. Eighteen, as of five months ago. Questionable, sure, but not illegal.
“Are you on the pill?” Eddie asked next, and he shifted to stub out his cigarette in a nearby ashtray.
“Yeah,” you said, then hesitated before you added, “And I brought condoms.”
“Of course you did,” Eddie chuckled. “This was your plan all along, huh? I fuckin’ knew it.”
“Okay, can you blame me?” you asked. “I just… I’m really pissed at him, and I know how badly you wanna get back at him too.”
“You don’t have to convince me anymore, baby,” Eddie said. “You’re not a virgin, are you?”
“Virginity is such bullshit,” you said. “It’s a social construct meant to cage and restrain people—”
“You can knock it off with the morality lesson, kid,” Eddie said, and you felt a gush of wetness cover your thighs. Why did him calling you kid turn you on so badly? “‘Cause I’m not fucking you if you’ve never had sex before.”
“I-I have,” you stuttered, and your cheeks flamed with embarrassment as Eddie raised his eyebrows at you. “I have!”
“What was his name?” Eddie asked.
“You wouldn’t know him,” you said quickly, and Eddie laughed.
“His name, baby,” Eddie said. “If you’ve fucked a guy before, you should be able to tell me his name.”
“John Sinclair,” you said finally, after a few long moments of silence.
Eddie started for a moment. “Sinclair?” he said. “Lucas’s kid?”
“Oh, God, don’t tell me you know his dad too,” you groaned.
“We all went to high school together,” Eddie explained. “Sinclair was in my DnD club. Is Max this John kid’s mom?”
“Yeah, his mom’s named Maxine,” you said. “What’s DnD?”
“Way to make me feel old,” Eddie mumbled. “If I go up to him and ask him if you guys have fucked, he’ll say yes?”
“Yeah,” you said. “He will, I promise. It was right after prom last year, he was my friend’s date—”
“Oh, wow,” Eddie laughed. “Fucking the friend’s date, not even your own. Jesus Christ, you’re just used to getting what you want, aren’t you?”
“Can you blame me?” you asked, batting your eyelashes at him.
“No, baby,” Eddie grinned. “Guess I can’t.”
And with that, he leaned down and grabbed you by the sides of your face, and he kissed you. You squeaked with the taste of him, all cigarettes and skin and man, and you grabbed hard at his shoulders, letting him slide his tongue between your glossy lips. Sure, John had been nice to you and respected you when he had taken your virginity in the back of his car, but you didn’t want Eddie to respect you. You wanted him to fuck you, to leave bruises and hickies that your dad would see and ask about. You wanted Eddie to take out 40 years of anger against your dad on you. “Mr. Munson,” you gasped, your tits swelling with breath and pressing against his chest. “Fuck me, please.”
“I will, princess,” Eddie said softly. His hands fell from your face and traveled down to your hips, stopping for a moment to squeeze and paw at your tits, and he finally rucked up your dress and huffed out a laugh. “No panties? And you say you’re not a slut.”
“I’m not,” you whined, and Eddie laughed.
“Seems like you are,” Eddie said. “Coming to my place, chasing older cock just to make your dad upset. Sure seems like something a slut would do.”
“I’m not a slut,” you told him, but you were struck quiet when his big, inked hand cupped your wet pussy, letting his middle finger pass along your slit.
“So fucking wet,” Eddie whispered. “You like to fight, don’t you? Gets you all hot and bothered, huh?”
“All the better for you,” you replied, and Eddie landed a kiss on your neck.
“Yeah, fuckin’ better for me,” Eddie said. “You’re gonna be so good, I know it. Get on the bed, baby, take off your dress.”
You toed out of your sneakers and did as he told you, traveling to the back of the trailer to a half-open door. You pushed it open and looked at the room for a moment— clothes everywhere, a vintage guitar hanging on the wall— before you focused on the large bed, and you sat down and smoothed your skirt over your thighs. Eddie followed you in, kicking the door closed, and his hand drifted down to his crotch, palming himself through his plaid pajama bottoms. “I told you to take off your dress,” he said.
“I want you to do it,” you said. “Daddy.”
“Oh, yeah?” Eddie asked. “Girl’s got daddy issues, huh?”
“F’course I do,” you shrugged. “Look at who my dad is.”
“I don’t wanna,” Eddie said. “All I wanna look at is your pretty little face as I pound into you. Or maybe I wanna look at the back of your head. I haven’t decided yet.”
“Better make up your mind quick,” you told him, slipping off your jean jacket and dropping it on the edge of the bed. “As long as you mark me up.”
“You want marks?” Eddie asked. “You want all those hickies and marks and everything? Want me to be rough with ya?”
“Yeah,” you told him, slipping the straps of your dress off of your shoulders slowly, teasingly. “As rough as you want.”
“What if I don’t wanna be rough?” Eddie asked. He knelt on the bed, his big thighs caging around your waist, the bulge in his pants inches from your face, and your mouth watered at the smell of him. “What if I just wanna treat you nice and be all gentle and cute with you?”
“You don’t want that,” you told him. “You wanna ruin me.”
“I sure do,” Eddie said. “You suck cock good?”
“Not really,” you mumbled. “Only ever done it once before.”
“John?” Eddie asked, and you nodded. “And that kid was probably just happy to have your mouth on his dick, he wouldn’t tell you if you were doing bad. Want me to teach you?”
“Just want you inside me,” you told him. Eddie was holding his dick now, and the shadow of it inside his pants was driving you crazy. The outline was big, intimidatingly so, and you reached out and hooked your thumbs in the elastic of his pants, tugging it down to let his cock free. He was half-hard, his cock extra-thick and heavy, the thatch of hair at the base showing grey and black, just like the long curls that he pushed behind his shoulder. His balls were thick too, hanging deliciously, and you sucked your lip between your teeth as your mouth watered even more. You had never had the desire to suck dick before, not even with John— you had really only done it because he asked for you to— but something about Eddie’s thick, cut length made a fire erupt in your belly.
“What’s this?” you asked, your eyes locking on a small silver ball protruding from the head of his cock. “Is your… Do you have a…?”
“It’s called a Prince Albert,” Eddie explained. “Got it so long ago… You probably weren’t even alive yet.”
“Did it hurt?” you asked, cringing slightly at the thought of it.
“A little,” Eddie shrugged. “But it looks good, doesn’t it?”
“Looks really good,” you mumbled. “Looks… Looks really yummy.”
“Oh, yeah?” Eddie chuckled. “You wanna suck it?”
“Yeah,” you whispered, and you instantly wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, feeling the warmth of the metal ball bearing of the piercing against your tongue. Eddie jolted, his cock throbbing in your mouth, and a tattooed hand grabbed at your hair quickly.
“Fuck, baby!” Eddie laughed. “Gettin’ right to it, huh?”
You nodded, letting your tongue swirl along the piercing greedily, and you took more of him in your mouth, feeling him harden in the soft warmth of your mouth. He took a heavy breath and groaned softly as you started to suck on him, hollowing your cheeks to tighten around him, and your clit throbbed as you watched him lean his head back, the inked skin on his throat stretching as he did. “Good fuckin’ girl,” Eddie whispered. “Take me deeper, baby.”
You let his cock fall from your mouth, a string of spit connecting your bottom lip to his piercing, and you gasped in for air. “Don’t think I can,” you told him. “You’re just too big, Mr. Munson.”
“Jesus Christ, call me Eddie,” he chuckled breathlessly. “I think we’re past the whole ‘mister’ business.”
“Alright,” you agreed, and you tugged his pants down a little further before you captured his cock in your hand, slowly jerking him off as your lips went to his fat balls, kissing them gently and kitten-licking at the seam of them.
“Yeah, baby, lick my balls,” Eddie mumbled. “Fuckin’ bitch of an ex-wife wouldn’t go near them, s’like she was allergic or some shit. Suck on ‘em a little, show me how much you love ‘em.”
You took one of his balls between your lips, stroking his shaft as you sucked gently on him. Eddie moaned softly, almost like he was afraid of you hearing, and your pussy tingled at the sound. Your free hand fell down your body and went up your dress, and you rubbed at your clit, trying to get any pleasure as you switched to his other testicle, sucking on it as well.
“Touching your clit?” Eddie asked, and you nodded, flashing your best doe eyes up at him as you suckled at his sack. He leaned back, drawing himself from your mouth, and you whimpered as you started to chase him back. You weren’t done yet. You wanted to always have his cock or balls in your mouth, you wanted nothing more than that, but Eddie had other ideas. He quickly dragged his shirt over his head, exposing his inked chest to you, and his hands went to your dress, tugging it up over your head and off of your body. You were completely naked for him, your body thrumming with excited energy, and he grabbed at your hips, kneading your skin between his hands.
“God, baby,” he said. “Your body’s a fuckin’ A. Perfect tits, perfect ass, perfect pussy… Open up your legs, let me see you.”
“I-I shaved,” you told him. “I didn’t know how you liked it.”
“I can see that,” Eddie laughed. “For future reference, I like it however you like it. Whatever you wanna do with your body, that’s your business. I’m just here to fuck you.”
“How feminist of you,” you giggled.
“I’m nothing if not a people pleaser,” Eddie said with a wink. “Open your legs, I need to put my fingers inside you.”
“Oh, wow,” you rolled your eyes. “So romantic.”
“Well, if my fingers don’t fit, how is my dick supposed to?” Eddie asked, and he was right. His fingers were thick, all inked up with barbed wire on his top knuckles and various little drawings of candles and crosses and skulls and hearts on his lower knuckles, and you wanted them inside you so badly.
“Right,” you said. You carefully opened your legs, exposing your sopping wet cunt to him, and Eddie moaned at the sight of it.
“Look at that,” he said. “All wet and I haven’t even touched you yet.”
His fingers danced from your hip to your pussy, and he lightly traced the lips of your cunt before he pressed his middle finger, all inked up with a skull, inside you. You gasped and grabbed at his hair, squeezing your eyes shut, and you moaned softly at the stretch. God, his finger was deliciously thick inside you, and you weren’t sure how you were meant to take more than one, let alone take his cock. “God, Eddie,” you whimpered. “So big.”
“I know, baby,” Eddie told you. “Poor thing, can’t even take my fingers. You’re gonna be so tight, it’ll be so fucking good.”
His second finger nudged your hole, threatening to slip inside you, and you tugged on his grey and black hair, earning you a breathy chuckle. “Found my weakness,” Eddie told you, his cock rising up to rest against his tattooed belly. “Fucking love having my hair pulled.”
“Really?” you asked, and Eddie shoved his second finger in. You groaned at the burn of the stretch of your velvet walls around him, and he instantly started to curl his fingers up, searching for that magic spot inside you. “Eddie, it hurts.”
“Aw,” Eddie pouted. “Can’t take it?”
‘No,” you said quickly. “I-I can take it. Just hurts.”
“If you need me to stop, just let me know,” Eddie told you. “Alright? I might be a mean old bitch, but I care about you.”
“You’re not mean,” you told him. “Or old. Or a bitch.”
Eddie laughed. “Honey,” he started. “I’m 56 years old. I think that’s on the other side of middle-aged. I’m about to be geriatric.”
“That’s not old, though,” you countered. “It’s not like you’re, like, 80 or whatever.”
“That’s your cut-off?” Eddie asked. “If someone’s 80, you won’t fuck them?”
“Yeah, that’s my cut-off,” you laughed, and Eddie groaned softly.
“When you laugh, your pussy gets tighter,” he mumbled. His fingers were still moving inside you, thrusting in and out and fucking you as he curled his fingers up, and the silver ring on his middle finger pressed up against you with every thrust. He was quick it with, fucking you on his hand faster than you had ever imagined, and you tugged his hair again and whined and whimpered as he finally drove home in that spot inside you.
“Fuck, Eddie!” you cried as your legs shook. “Fuck me, Eddie!”
“Hey,” Eddie said sharply, and he grabbed you by the chin hard. “Not so loud. Don’t want you waking up half the trailer park ‘cause you don’t know how to shut the fuck up.”
“I can shut up,” you told him quickly. “I can, I promise.”
“We’ll see about that,” Eddie said slyly. He looked down at you, where your pussy swallowed his fingers, and he said, “Fuck it.” He quickly withdrew his fingers from you, earning him a hiss at the sudden emptiness, and he stripped off his pants to be fully naked for you. You were right before; he had tattoos everywhere, lining his legs and hips and sides, and you smiled at the small devil illustration he had just above his pubes. “You ready, baby?”
“Yeah,” you said. “Don’t forget about those marks.”
“Oh, baby, I haven’t forgotten,” Eddie said. “Just thinkin’ about where all I wanna give ‘em to you.”
“On my neck,” you told him, and Eddie swooped down, attaching to your throat in an instant. He bit at your skin, sucking it between his teeth and breaking the small blood vessels under your skin, and he only stopped when you mewled in pain. When he pulled away, he grinned down at his work, and he said, “I’ve gotta get inside you, my dick’s gonna fall off if I don’t.”
“You dick won’t fall off,” you said with a roll of your eyes, and Eddie just smiled.
“Wanna bet?” he asked as he nudged your legs open wider, and he worked up a mouthful before he spit down on your waiting pussy. He took his cock in his hand and used the pierced head to spread his spit around, and you gasped at his piercing caught on your hole, still all open and throbbing for him.
“Oh my God,” you mumbled. “Oh, fuck, just fuck me.”
Without another moment of waiting, Eddie pushed his cock inside you, letting you adjust to just the size of his head, and your head fell back. You had never felt anything like this before, anything so big and perfect, and the piercing dragged against your gummy walls as he pushed in even further. You worried that the piercing would hurt, but it was the thing you enjoyed the most about him, and you wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him deeper. “More,” you told him, digging your nails into his shoulders. “More, Daddy, more.”
“Fuck, that’s hot,” Eddie chuckled. “That shouldn’t turn me on as much as it does.”
“Turns me on too,” you told him.
“Man, you’ve got some serious daddy issues,” Eddie laughed as his balls hit your ass, fully inside you. You felt like the breath had been pushed your of your lungs and you struggled for a breath, and you couldn’t stop the fuzzy feeling in your head as Eddie started to withdraw, fucking you slowly. “Next thing you know, you’re gonna be asking me for the money to go to Paris.”
“Daddy,” you whimpered, lifting your hips to meet his thrust in, and you gasped in pain as he buried himself so deep inside you, his head kissed your cervix. “Fuck, ow.”
“Oh, Jesus, you okay?” Eddie asked. “Do we need to stop?”
“No, it’s not your fault,” you told him, wincing at the pain. “Fuck, that just hurt really bad.”
“What did I do?” Eddie asked. “Is it the piercing? I can take it out really quick if you want—”
“Eddie—”
“Yeah, let me do that, hang on just a tick—”
“Eddie!” you laughed, dragging him down into a messy kiss to shut him up. For as rough and gruff as he was acting before, he let his true self shine through for just a moment, and you saw the guy in those yearbook pictures from back in ‘86, smiling and throwing up devil horns. He was just a goofball, plain and simple, and that wasn’t something that people grew out of. He cared about you, even if it was just for the night. He readjusted his arms around you, holding you close to his chest, and you felt his erratic heartbeat against your chest. “Hit me.”
“What?” Eddie asked, breaking the kiss abruptly.
“This is getting too lovey and soft,” you told him. “You’re supposed to be hatefucking me ‘cause I’m Jason Carver’s daughter. Remember? You’re supposed to be taking out your anger on me. You promised that you’d fuck me and not make stupid love to me, so do it. Hit me.”
“I don’t wanna mess up your pretty face,” Eddie protested. He still fucked you as he spoke, going slow and shallow, and you frowned.
“Oh, so you’re breaking your promise to me too?” you asked. “First, it was Dad and Paris, and now it’s you. I thought you were better than that.”
“Fuckin’ low blow, sweetheart,” Eddie chuckled darkly. “You don’t know what you’re asking for, wanting me to be rougher.”
“Do your worst,” you bit at him with a wicked smile, and Eddie’s dark eyes went black, setting his jaw.
“Fine,” he said flatly. “Was gonna take it easy on you, but you don’t leave me any choice.”
He slapped you, hard, across the cheek, forcing your head to the side, and you gasped in pain as your cheek lit aflame. “Oh, shut up,” Eddie snapped. “You wanted rough, you’re getting rough. And don’t you fuckin’ complain either, you wanted this.”
“Fuck, Daddy,” you whimpered, and you held on as Eddie started to fuck you harder. He was deep inside you, but not enough to hurt you again, and you peered over his shoulder to see a small mirror hanging on the back of the door. You watched as his lithe body moved, his taut ass flexing with every fuck inside you, your heels digging into his buttocks, but your eyes were glued to the giant bat that covered his back, the wings crawling up the back of his neck and into his hair.
“Nuh-uh,” Eddie said venomously, grabbing hard at your throat. “Call me Master.”
“Master?” you repeated, and Eddie nodded.
“It’s an old song from when I was in high school,” Eddie said. “Come crawling faster, obey your master… Whatever. Doesn’t matter.”
“Yes, Master,” you said, and Eddie smiled.
“God, you’re so good,” he told you. “You like when I tell you you’re good?”
“Yeah,” you said softly, and Eddie pulled out of you. He used a strength that you didn’t think he had to throw you onto your stomach, manhandling your hips in the air as he sent a hard smack to your asscheek. It hurt, not as much as your face did, but you jolted anyway, crying out. “Make it hurt, Master, please!”
His palm cracked against your ass again, and you mewled, pushing your ass out further to him. “Got a little pain kink too, huh?” Eddie asked. “Praise and pain, you’re doing so good for me, gonna make me cum so hard, sweetheart.”
He used one hand to slide himself back inside your slick and waiting pussy, and his other hand tangled in your hair and tugged your head up. You were face to face with that mirror, forced to watch yourself get fucked, and you laughed, watching Eddie in the mirror. The hand in your hair readjusted to your throat, grabbing you hard and pressing his thumb into the vein on the side, and he used the leverage to fuck you hard. The angle was new, a lot better than the old one, and you moaned in time with his thrusts.
“Yeah, this perfect pussy…” Eddie muttered, smacking your ass again. “Sucking me right in. You’re so good, y’know, most perfect pussy I’ve ever had.”
“Thanks,” you giggled, and Eddie smacked your ass again.
“Love the way it bounces back against me,” he told you. “Fuckin’ fat ass you’ve got, fuck. Might have to keep you, won’t let you go to Paris or anywhere.”
“Keep me,” you gasped. “Mark me, make me yours! Please!”
“You said you’re on the pill, right?” Eddie asked, and you gave him a quick “uh-huh”. “Good girl. Gonna cum inside you when we get there.”
“Alright,” you giggled. You felt euphoric as Eddie fucked you, all the chemicals in your body making you smile and laugh, and you shrieked when his hand came to your clit, rubbing it in quick, small, focused strokes. “Master!”
“Aw, your legs are already shaking,” Eddie cooed. “You gonna cum? My fat cock too much for you?”
“Just so big,” you cried. The knot in your belly was bordering on splitting, electricity running up the back of your thighs and into the soles of your feet and the very top of your tummy, and your arms gave out from under you. Only your ass remained in the air, and Eddie dropped your throat from his tight grip in order to grab your hips and shove you back onto his cock. It took your breath away, and you whimpered into the bedsheets as he pounded into you. The bed underneath you creaked loudly, obviously never having seen this level of action before, and the sounds of it hitting your ears made you feel funny. It was ugly and slick, sticky and wet, smack-smack-smack of his heavy balls hitting your clit with every fuck, but it was the best thing you had ever heard. “Master! Wanna cum, let me cum!”
“You think you deserve it?” Eddie asked. “You’ve been a big fuckin’ brat tonight. I don’t think you deserve to cum. I think I oughta fuck you until the sun rises and Chrissy and Jason notice you’re gone. Haven’t they noticed yet?”
“Th-They’re probably asleep,” you stuttered out. “They would have called me if they noticed.”
“Well, let’s see,” Eddie said, and he reached behind him for your phone, tugging it out of the pocket of your jean jacket. “Fuck, I’m not wearing my glasses, I can’t see this tiny writing…”
“Alright, Grandpa,” you chuckled, and Eddie grabbed your hair and tugged hard, making you yelp.
“Keep that attitude and I won’t let you cum,” he snapped quickly. “Missed call from Daddy. Missed call from Mom. Text from Daddy: Where are you? Another missed call from Daddy. Another text: Just called Tara’s mom, you’re not there. Come home now or you’re grounded. Another text: Is this about Paris? Jesus Christ, get a clue, Jason. Guess we don’t have any time to waste, do we?”
“Please stop talking about my dad,” you panted, anxiety growing in your chest. So what? Dad takes your keys away from you? You’ll hitch a ride to school. Takes away your computer, your phone? None of it mattered. You weren’t going to Paris like he promised. “It’s a real turn-off.”
“Whatever you say, baby,” Eddie told you with a small sigh.
“Are you sad this is ending?” you chuckled. “Aw, Eddie.”
“Don’t aw at me,” he said. “I’m still your master, baby, and I will be until I cum.”
“Even after, I bet,” you told him. “I bet, the moment I call you, you’ll come running.”
“You bet I will,” Eddie laughed. “Sweet pussy like this, I’ll do whatever you want me to if it means I get to fuck you again.”
“You old perv,” you smiled, and Eddie smacked your ass one more time.
“Yeah, but I’m the old perv that you fucked,” Eddie chuckled. “I’m about to cum, baby, and I want you to cum first.”
“An old perv and a gentleman,” you said, and Eddie rolled his eyes.
“What can I say? Mama raised me right,” Eddie said. His hand resumed its quick rotations on your clit, and that electricity returned, and you yelped as the pleasure returned full-force.
“Master,” you whined. “Wanna cum, please.”
“You’ve been a pretty good girl,” Eddie considered. “Been a little brat, but not naughty. You can cum, baby, cum all over my cock, make it all messy.”
“Fuck!” you cried. “Eddie, oh my God!”
“C’mon, baby,” Eddie said. “Good girl, c’mon.”
You grabbed the bedsheets hard enough that you thought they might rip, and you came suddenly and hard. Your whole body shook as you pushed back onto Eddie, trying to get him deeper, and Eddie groaned as your cunt went tight as you came. “Fuck, honey, just like that,” Eddie said, and he reached up, rubbing your back as you gasped for air. Your head felt fuzzy and your body gave out underneath Eddie, and, luckily, you didn’t have to wait long for Eddie to finish.
You felt him painting your walls almost in time with you, a deep moan drawing from his chest as he filled you to the brim with his hot, thick semen. “Fuck, yeah, baby,” he said on shaky breaths, and he molded his front to your back, breathing in time with you. “Don’t wanna move.”
“Then don’t,” you whispered. His weight on you felt good, like the best weighted blanket you had ever had, and you clutched a pillow to your face as Eddie started to slowly kiss your neck, his lips resting just against your pulse-point.
“Was that good for you, sweetheart?” Eddie whispered, and you nodded, humming softly.
“So good,” you whispered.
“You wanna stay ‘til morning?” Eddie asked. “I make a mean fried egg.”
“Yeah,” you mumbled. You searched the bed for your phone as Eddie got up, and you quickly tapped out a message to your dad as Eddie redressed and retrieved his cigarettes from the front room: hey dad, i’m fine, just staying at a friend’s. you really upset me and i couldn’t stand being in the house with you. we can talk tomorrow when i get home.
“Who’re you texting?” Eddie asked as he went to his closet, and he pulled out a t-shirt and a pair of pajama pants and tossed them in your direction.
“My dumb dad,” you said. “Telling him I’ll be home tomorrow.”
“Cool,” Eddie said. He sighed as he laid down next to you, and you tugged the shirt over your head as you curled up into his side.
“Thanks for… This,” you said softly. “It means a lot.”
“I know, sweetheart,” Eddie said, drawing at his cigarette. “Go to sleep, you’ve got a big day tomorrow.”
And he was right. When you woke up, Eddie was already awake, the hood of your car opened as he fooled around inside it, grease up to his elbows. The morning was cold as you stepped outside, frost biting under your feet, and you called, “Eds? What’re you doing?”
“You said your car made a funny noise when it starts up,” Eddie said.
“When did I say that?” you asked, wrinkling your nose.
“At the top of the night,” Eddie told you. “You hadn’t even come inside yet.”
“Neither had you,” you said with a smile, and Eddie rolled his eyes.
“Yeah, well, your connector cables are corroded,” he said. “Your battery is all fucked up. I’m not sure how your car even started to get you here.”
“Oh,” you mumbled. “Can you fix it?”
“Not here,” Eddie said. “I’d have to take it into the shop, call a tow truck to bring it in. It’ll probably be $300 to fix it, too.”
“My dad will pay it,” you told him easily.
“Or, you could trade this piece of shit in,” Eddie offered with a chuckle. “Maybe then you could go to Paris.”
“How am I supposed to get home?” you asked. “I told Dad I’d be home soon.”
“I can drive you,” Eddie offered. He wiped his hands on a towel that hung from his shoulder, and the flame of attraction grew in your belly again. How had you never seen it before? Eddie was hot. “I mean, I’m headed into town anyway. I bet you guys live in Loch Nora, huh?”
“Yeah,” you said. “Umm, thanks.”
“No problem, baby,” Eddie said. “Just give me some sugar and we’re square.”
“Sure thing,” you giggled, and you threw your arms around Eddie’s neck and kissed him softly. He chuckled and grabbed your hips as he kissed you back, and you smiled into his mouth.
The drive was pretty quiet, all things considered. His van was nice, as far as vans went, and metal music played quietly from the speakers. He held a hand on your thigh as he drove, and he said, “You’re still wearing my clothes.”
“Yeah,” you said. “Didn’t feel like putting my dress back on.”
“I’ll need those back, y’know,” Eddie said. “I only have so many shirts that aren’t stained with grease.”
“I’ll give them back,” you told him. “Maybe later today when I see you at the shop.”
He rolled up in your driveway, and you sat and stared at the house for a moment before the front door opened and your dad stepped out. “Look at me,” Eddie mumbled, and he put his hand on your face and gently turned your face to see him. “You’ve got hickies on your neck, a handprint on your throat, and you can hardly sit ‘cause your ass is all bruised up. Want me to give you another hickey real quick?”
“No, it’s fine,” you told him. “Maybe a kiss?”
“Gotta show off for your dad,” Eddie smirked, and he leaned in and kissed you softly.
“Kiss me like you mean it,” you mumbled against him. “Master.”
“Fuck, honey,” Eddie said. “Making my dick twitch.” His hand softly cupped your cheek as he kissed you harder, and his tongue snaked inside your mouth. He tasted just the same as last night, and you grinned into the kiss.
“Alright,” you said, and you gathered your things before you jumped out of the van, slamming the door shut and waving at him. “Bye, Eddie!”
“Eddie?” your dad shouted. “Eddie Munson? Why’s Eddie Munson dropping you off at 8AM?”
“My car broke down again,” you told him, brushing past him and into the house.
“And you called Eddie to pick you up?” your dad asked.
“No, I was already at his place,” you said casually, and you watched your father’s eyes widen as he finally saw you fully, the marks on your neck and your clothing.
“You didn’t,” your dad said, his eyes narrowing. “You wouldn’t.”
“I wouldn’t what?” you asked. “I wouldn’t sleep with the guy you bullied in high school? I might; who’s to say?”
-
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😳🥵🥵 Wish I was Starlight so bad right there and then ..... Watching the boys right now on, at episode 7 so far– can't wait to write a fic of Homelander
thank you lovely Anon and yall, overall please remember my content is not suitable for minors —
Though I'm not overly strict on this since ik someone is going to be rebellious and read 18+ stuff, at least please don't encourage others with your minor account!!! #DNIMINORS thank you for understanding! Let's keep each other healthy and remember not all fiction we consume or create represents our values or respects in our life! Woo!
ABOUT MY WRITING: will be back after June 13! Major tests and stuff, some to do with my job 🤪👍 Tiring stuff but excited to get back into oneshots and writing! Much love yall and oooo bg3 and love and deepspace are on my radar hehehe
😤😩🙏🏻 I really hope to keep a weekly upload!! And hopefully there wont be anymore unexpected relative visits because buddha knows I needa manage unpredictable time mangament better!! BLESS U ALL, I HOPE YALL ENJOY WOO, ♡♡♡ never give up - TL
Once more for those in the back.
Pairing: (Professor) Loki Laufeyson x Female Reader (College Student)
Warnings: Vague horror mentions, SFW. Words: 2911
Tropes: A doplergnager of someone you know...A string of unexplained deaths and on top of that things are going missing from your apartment.
A/N: 🤪 Inspired hugely from a childhood Japanese horror (?) Romance movie that ws titled Dooplergnager!! #no beta, no editing. My first MCU FIC. Sadly I can't find it on YouTube and I lost the CD, if anyone can find it-- the movie goes like this without any gore. An office girl (I think) lives alone at home, uses charcoal to draw on a canvas and is thinking of entering a museum's art contest... but is so indecisive, and suddenly the door bell rang, she goes to see who it is and sees its a blind guy who idk is asking if it's the right address or smth. She says no and he goes away. ... Boom from one floor beneath her apartment, at the same location as her door, another her appears... her dooplerganger-- who does what she was indecisive about, draws, enters the art contest, basically this whole movie is some detective supernatural thing where a detective discovers that some ppl jump off buildings after seeing their dooplergangers achieve better than them. Sooooo ;) this is not an original idea, just wanna honour this movie.
~~~~~~~
Clap.
"Listen here. If nobody takes this Friday exam seriously, I'll have Mr. Laufeyson take over all my classes for the rest of the week." Lightheartedly said Thor, his wide voice overpowering the whole classroom, grinning in playful triumph, yet the threat was very real.
Groans and moans—some boos here and there—fill out the jam-packed classroom, ranging from zombie-tired to actual fear responses. My reaction lied delicately, balancing on the tightrope of both dread and hope, but my heart twisted in excitement.
Among the chorus of complaints, chatter, and chairs shrieking surrounding me, I took my sweet time filing and packing my things, which were not so neat. Class ended on a very motivational note. . . .
Professor Thor's brother was not one most students willingly paid a visit to after-hours, unlike the other teachers, and looking for him without a purpose in academic advice is as pointless as buying rope from a camel.
His striking slim features, like his most prominent and popular emerald gems for eyes and boney face, take a stand in attracting many to sign up for his courses. I so happened to be one of the lucky few who didn't check the profiles of the teachers and allowed that to influence my decision-making.
Beauty is always deceiving.
And it never fails to be so entertaining to watch from the back rows when another person rage-quits, abruptly leaves in the middle of his teaching, or slumps defeatedly in their seats each and every week. It never stopped Mr. Laufeyson from carrying on the lesson—not even when a wasp flew in by mistake and terrorised the class while he didn't bat an eye.
Until it went after him, he took immediate action, swatting it hard against the wall with a ruler.
He froze.
Holding that fatal position, he rotated his head towards me—I meant, the class obviously.
"Now, any questions? And if there are, you best make it good; otherwise, you'd like your future grade to fall from a height." He removes the ruler, revealing a flattened wasp slowly unsticking itself from the wall and plummeting down with a comically weak buzz.
Then silence.
"Just like that."
I held back from laughing, except for a tiny chuckle joining the other students'. Sucking in the bottom of my lip, I focused on the assignment on my laptop while keeping an active ear for any tidbits of information from him. I really liked his humorous side. But there was something else about him that I loved.
…RING.
There went the bell, and class was dismissed. Mr. Laufeyson, with a smooth ease, was the first to leave, and the others and I stalled to watch him before following suit in hushed giggles.
"—ho! Just now, that got me feeling some type of way."
Another girl low moaned, "I'm melting like an ice cream in the sun."
"I wish he used that ruler on me instead."
Mmhmm.
Mr Laufeyson's back disappeared after a sharp turn, he's never in the cafeteria during lunch breaks but in a way what a relief he won't ever see the dumb side of me. Not that he sees me as anything else except a student.
But it will change.
Thankfully graduation was right around the corner… By then I'll have a chance to ask him out properly. Maybe buy him some flowers? As a farewell appreciation gift.
. . .
"I heard you used my name again to scare the children," Loki piqued, hands studiously behind his back as he approached the sun-lit kitchen.
His brother, shining blonde tied-back hair, grins wolfishly after downing a beer can and tossing it in the trash, making it over to Loki.
"Relax, it's just a joke, brother!" Thor let out a boisterous laugh, smacking a large hand on Loki's shoulder and causing him to slightly flinch. "College kids need the motivation. A kick of adrenaline, am I right?"
"More work that is unnecessary doesn't sound very funny to me. I will not be babysitting your class again after last time, a word of warning."
"Oh come on now, you have a knack for torturing students to greatness— and I can supply you with as many peoplee as you wish. Just say the word!—"
Loki's unamusement showed in his thin smile and poise stance.
"—Don't think I've seen the way you've been holding yourself back from having fun these days." He winked, walking off with a whistle in the direction of his study.
Loki didn't think it was obvious but of course his brother noticed his recent shift in behavior, more avoidance. But like all things in life, it would soon pass. It has to. And it will.
The root of his avoidance would graduate soon enough next month. He'll just have to exercise more patience and wait it out.
. . .
Friday nights are always the best to rewind and treat myself to fast food on the couch. It's fun to pretend that there's 3 days in the weekend.
Time to imagine the handsome actor in the Notebook as Mr Laufeyson.
"Sorry, can't join you tonight girl. I got a 2nd date with Taro!" Juliet whooped excitedly, pumping a fist towards the ceiling as she one-handedly strapped on her glittery heels with urgency.
I waved weakly at her bursting enthusiasm, smiling hard and happy for her. "Goodluck—"
The door slammed in my face, faint clip-clops of her heels muffled away into the buzzing night, and the disappointment of my ruined plans reflecting off the smooth rogue-wood.
Welp and there goes movie-night with my bestie roommate… Now I've got the whole place to myself, wowie, nice. Time for some self-care.
Was what I thought before accidentally falling asleep in the middle of a firework love confession scene on the big screen, an empty bag of popcorn kernels laying at the foot of the couch I slouched on. As I finally snored myself awake, a series of insistent knuckle-punching came from the door, louder than the TV audio.
BANG. BANG. BANG.
That is so unlike the bubbly optimistic Juliet I know, she wouldn't be coming home until… I patted around me for my phone and checked the time.
9:00 PM.
Yep. It's far too early.
Instantly I sat up straight, unblinking, eyeing the front door with a tight clutch on my phone. No way is Juliet even close to retiring from her date, ever. No one is supposed to be here and not at this time.
BANG. BANG.
Step by cautious step, I neared the door and tiptoed to peer out of the peephole at what–or–who was causing the commotion. My phone at the ready to call the cops.
BANG.
A mop of slick black hair blocked the majority of my sight: as if this person was leaning forwards, face-first, into the door like he was either trying to hide his identity or didn't know how doors work. Since usually people wouldn't be standing so absurdly close against a door with knowing the possibility of it hitting them.
Or this is a drunk idiot who wondered off from one of the other houses. An uncommon occurence but happens.
BANG—
"Stop!" I shouted, my free hand taking hold of the doorknob firm and full of annoyance. Ready to give this possible-drunk a piece of my mind.
The person listened then a soft, almost feverent breathing came through the wood after hearing my voice. Are they drunk and sick? Not the first time seeing this terrible combo.
"Please take a step back!" I warned the person on the other side and swung the door wide open in a rush of concern.
My unsuspecting self, dumbfoundedly, receiving the best shock of my life. It was a man. I knew.
"Well," glimmered a pair of deep green gem-like eyes once settling in my face. Upclose and too personal. "Hello, my darling. It's been too long."
That infamous silky voice that slithers into anyone's consciousness for days. Belonging to non other but my– I mean, that man.
My vocal cords decided to stop functioning without my consent. "H…"
Almost all of my vocabulary disappeared from my brain the second I fully registered the familiar handsome face in my head. His petal-thin lips parted while my jaw hung as we both looked at each other in a mutual deadlock.
"M– Mr Laufeyson?" My tongue muscle memory took over.
He nodded curtly in confirming his identity, still staring wide-eyed at me as if drinking me in like a new sight to behold.
Wait he shouldn't be here. I wasn't hallucinating this hard, right.
There was no reasonable explanation as to why I could be hallucinating without a drop of alcohol in my system. Unless he stalked me, which is impossible to imagine the busy man ever doing, even pondering it, to me of all people.
Hah. I wish.
But lo and behold it was him, genuinely in the flesh, smiling the most biggest white-teethed smile I've seen.
"May I come in, please. Darling?"
In where? In what?
Trying to make sense of the current reality standing infront of me, hoping this wasn't a prank.
"Why are you here… Sir." I intoned, politely, darting my eyes around him at the dark corners suspiciously. This wasn't some graduation prank right, I secretly hoped it wasn't.
"Why?" A, very nice sounding, humourous chuckle ripples from him before he continued.
"How could I not pay a visit to my most brilliant student? I would regret it for as long as I live." He said it extremely convincing as if it was normal to show up out of the blue at my house in the middle of the night.
"Right. Um, please come in."
I beckoned him in with an instinctual welcoming smile, holding back the urge to tidy my no-doubt ratty appearence and adjust my clothes as he entered.
Brushing his whole arm against mine, on accident I think, but he didn't seem to notice, too focused on removing his shining boots.
Nervously, I closed the door behind him while deeply breathing in the faint passing of his leafy cologne. My mind long forgetting if I should've let him inside.
I tersely said, ignoring the happy booming in my heart, and gestured to the gray couch. Hoping he wouldn't notice the tiniest shade of darker gray, the imprint of where I lazed earlier.
"Please, sir, make yourself at home."
"Oh, I planned to." Mr Laufeyson winked uncharacteristically, smoothly shrugging his coat off him and folding it over the armrest– where I laid my head earlier– casually. One of his hands had a purplish-dark marking across the skin, must've been from him knocking something.
"Thank you, darling."
"No problemo." That was not a cool response at all. Internally I cringed at myself while mentally noting to get him a bandage for his hand injury.
It took much willpower not to lose control of my eyeballs from running down the rare sight of him in only his white button-up while feeling his intense emerald gaze all over me.
Juliet is not going to believe this.
Alright, I'm going to be a good host. And only that. He probably wants to ask about what career path I'm choosing or something, so hold back.
I cleared my throat, meeting with his eyes.
"Sir, would you like some tea or coffee?" And maybe stay longer.
"From you? Anything will do."
. . .
Crackles of laughter sitting together on the couch, his arm draped over the back of the cushion behind my head, silly banter over past lessons he taught, tiny tidbits of his favourite things and color (as I suspected was green) proven correct. We share more things in common than I had thought.
Who knew I'd be the lucky one to be graced with getting personal with Mr Laufeyson.
1:10 AM.
In a blink of an eye, time seemed to skip over and the hour hand crossed midnight. Even though I felt no ounce of drowsiness— it wouldn't be appropriate to let him get caught by my roommate. This wasn't exactly all that inappropriate too, we only talked.
"Sir, it's getting very late. I'm sure you have another student to visit tomorrow or something," I tried to sound casual with mild contact, genuinely smiley, and not at all like I was pushing him to get the hint.
His emerald eyes flashed understanding as he gave a relaxed smile, getting up from the couch slightly slow. "I'd hate to overstay my welcome and have you lose your beauty sleep."
I chuckled and copied his action while he collected his coat, his slim fingers fiddling with the buttons almost mindlessly. It was a rare sight to see Mr Laufeyson act… Nervous? Maybe, that would be funny to imagine but he must be feeling discourteous for accidentally not watching the time slip by.
I know I would.
"Oh and dear."
My gaze instantly flicked up to his already on me. "Don't think for one second I could ever forget you," he closed the distance between our bodies and said my name so intimately. Leaning in, tilting his head, my heart a combustion of excitement, as his eyes shut and he left a peck on my cheek.
The signals were green. He was giving all the right signals and I'd be a fool not to go for it. Just not right now.
I muffled my own giggle, leading him to the door as I held it wide open for him. "Thanks for stopping by, Mr Laufeyson. It means a lot to me." More than he could ever know. If only he could stay longer but that would be a huge violation to my roommate's trust. Darn it.
"As it is for me."
He softly smiled, taking his sweet time to walk down the small steps. Glancing back at me twice.
He left without a hurry into the swallowing darkness where the streetlights lacked reach, and I continued staring out the peephole long after his ghostly tall figure lost itself in a concerning direction. Only alleyways and deadends there.
But I shouldn't be too worried, he looked like he knows where to go.
Tik. Tok.
Tik tok.
It felt like an eternity wishing for Monday to arrive quicker, my nerves aflamed for the entire weekend as I picked out cute outfits in advance. Surely he'd appreciate a different look from me, I couldn't wait to see his face again.
—RING.
. . .
Back to class. Here we go!
For once throughout my college days, I woke up an extra hour before my alarm and prepped an all natural make-up look. Taking special care to choose a flattering outfit and spritzing all over myself with my favourite scent until I knew I would be a walking cloud of sweetness. Hopefully something to be remembered by.
Out the door I went after leaving some waffles for Juliet's breakfast. Way too early but it was worth it.
"—Right, let's continue where we left off before another bee decides to steal the thunder and my job. All at once." Mr Laufeyson placed away the long ruler responsible for last week's insect death, I noted that he was wearing the same coat from coming over last friday, as a round of chuckles and soft giggles in the mix, erupted at his words.
Mr Laufeyson was putting extra work into being humorous today of all days or his mood improved positively better... Possibly because of me. Because of last Friday night. Or I was getting too ahead of myself when he could've easily paid a visit to the others. Right, he's just being a good concerned teacher. As always...
Class went on like normally. And he didn't even glance at me.
. . . The hour had passed.
Hoping for the littlest of interaction after class, I sprinted the steps down to the front of the classroom. Ahead of anyone else. "Mr Laufeyson!"
Once I stepped around the desk to properly stand before him, a perky excitement in my every movement to be upclose to him again. My expectations of mildly receiving a smile from him was shattered the second he angled his face towards me, his stiff folders collected under an arm.
"What."
Mr Laufeyson said harshly, "—exactly do you want? My time is limited. My email is on the Google classroom, you can easily find it online to contact me. However If it's a matter you believe is urgent, see me in my office after school hours immediately."
Not expecting this... Kind of standoffish tone.
I deflated under the scrutiny of his sharp green eyes and downturned pink lips, hopes of my outfit and being noticed stomped by his quiet impatience and unusual agitation. Right, we were still in school. Why did I choose such bad timing to talk to him.
Too eager, I must've came across as desperate. Yikes.
"Okay, sir. Thanks," I gave a weak smile as he spun to leave swiftly.
Probably not hearing me in the midst of everyone else's small chatter joining the outside noise as I adjusted the strap of my bag on my shoulder. Heart heavy but I survived.
His change in attitude was unexpected but not unwelcome. The iciness of it. A telltale sign that something or someone had bothered him. By the troubled ook of his deepened wrinkles, I guessed it must be recent— An hour or few ago, maybe— his stiff body language told me it's a personal matter.
Either I was deducing nonsense or being a kick of delusional away from acting on my deepest urge to confess my feelings.
How could I even help him?
. . .
HII!! I’m just gonna request something lolol, thanks for answering my question btw!! Your so nice (: i love the price of flesh so much, it’s such a great game, but anyways I’ll start, and I hope you can do crossovers😭😭 and you can find the information on the wiki, youtube and a lot more lol but here I go
Can you do derek goffard with a S/O who has a Rei personality from neon geniesis evangelion??
thank you and have a good day :D
💖😯 Oo I haven't written a crossover in ages, but I shall!!! (AHH I HAVEN'T WATCHED THAT ANIME IN YEARS😭💖 thank you for this interesting request!!!) I'm just going to with my intution and write something and hope to give you a surprise!!! :-D ♡♡♡ You too!!! Wonderful days ahead!! I'll get started writing asap!!! ♡♡♡ When I'm done may I tag your name? (Dunno how tumblr tagging works) Or just post it but with a #neongenesisevangelion tag? ♡ I'll put a crossover tag :-D so you may find it!! I'm assuming I should post this story publically? ♡♡♡ thank you very much again!!
🤗💖🌏I'm new to tumblr! My pen name is Teresa Lace, sagittarius and I'm a writer on wattpad, beginner artist on webtoons and an aspiring game programmer (hopefully) :D a pleasure to meet everyone! Many blessings to all!
"Care For A Drink?" Is a visual novel idea I had 2 years ago, thr webtoon verison is not the full story! It is just a romance ☆ with probably some plot 😩👍 for mature audiences only please, just be mature ☆ it has alot of adult and eroticism elements and suggestive abstract things :3 I am still planning to make a dating rpg roleplay text adventure visual novel verison soon!! Muhahah ♡ Thank you for your time everyone!
• Warnings: Paying behaviour, human ATM, money slave to a femdom, soft femdom, blackmail, non consensual humiliation and soft financial domination, soft bullying, the femdom is my female OC. SFW.
∆ MINORS DNI? Viewer discretion is advised. Safe for work. ∆
Summary: You were going to be owned, completely, financially by a bratty bachelorette who shoves you past your limit and wallet to entertain her at her own party.
🥴 Author's Note: First time writing more humiliation stuff (fun fact I am slightly stressed so gimme your monei) hope it's good guys and happy Halloween!! 1.9k words!💲💲💲And to Yall little cash piggies, send my Kofi or paypal some love and plenty of cash 🥱just do it cause piggies don't get a say so, I do.
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It isn't love at first sight but a deep reverence when you lay eyes on… Her. Lucky for you, you aren't going broke anytime. Famous last words until paycheck day.
"Like, honestly," the redhead woman clicks her tongue, tone deliciously condescending. "I'm doing YOU a favour."
Laura fingers the stack of random dollar bills on the high bar table across from you, taking her sweet time counting all your hard earned cash right in front of your sweat dripping face.
"See how good I'm treating your– Hah!– I mean, it's MY money now. You should practise more gratitude in your life before someone else does it better for you." Like a slave, you find yourself nodding along agreeingly to a woman you barely knew.
She sounds pleased with herself for a second as she mentally totalled the amount in her hands, then a flicker of her smokey gaze sets on you in hardened dissatisfaction and your body shivers in delightful cold sweat. The good kind that buries itself in the lower part of your jeans. You never knew you could be this turned on in your life.
Helplessly, your eyes track her newly bridal manicures combing through the money you tributed her, as she hums along to the song being played overhead, a classic nude shade matching her cocktail dress though tastefully chosen– you know in your heart of hearts that it could've been done better. She could've and should be treated to better things.
A goddess like her, albeit a not-so-single stranger you just met and got pressured into joining the fun, deserves even more.
Exaggeratingly you clear your throat to be heard over the surrounding chatter, heart hammering in it when you gesture politely to her hands. "Can I pay for your nails? When you want new ones, of course."
In nervous wait, you dare not to make eye contact until sensing her sharp gaze on you.
Her electric pink lips purse upwards before she releases a genuine laugh at you, making her abundant auburn curls bounce over her bare shoulders. "Awww how sweet… Oh you would like to, now wouldn't you?"
Laura checks her nails under the soft light like she's assessing how much of your offer is deserving of her acceptance… Not that you would know what a goddess like her is thinking, you could only anxiously (and excitedly) guess in your stuffy seat.
"Well? Don't waste my precious time, it's nothing like yours." She snaps, one hand tightly gripping the tribute money while she pointedly looks at her empty open palm expectantly and beckoning for more. More of the hidden money in your large pockets.
Hesitantly, with an obvious nervousness at this interaction, you fished out a large crisp bill from your wallet and placed it carefully in her open palm. Hoping the amount would please her.
- $1000
"Wow… Wooooww, I can't believe you're trying to be a smartass little piggy," Laura scoffs viciously, easily crumbling the bill in her hand to make a show of her point.
The degrading nickname she called you had sent multiple electric waves down to your… growing arousal.
"A thousand dollars isn't nearly enough for the kind of nails I want. I can't believe you tried to trick me, Me. Do you know who I am?!"
Your mind instantly answers that she is a goddess, unlike your delayed mouth. "N-No?" Crap.
"A worthless virgin piece of shit like you should be bowing to me right now, heck, you should feel grateful for every second you BREATHE in my air. Get down on your knees, pig." There was a slight mutter of disgust beneath her breath as her ruby lips curled in displeasure, sending you to instantly bow forwards and fall onto your knees like a loose Russian doll.
Her disgust further grew at the sight of your eager and willing display to please her.
No doubt some of the bar patrons' curious gazes skirt to you like, some bubbles of laughter towards your display of obedience while most ignored what was going on. You just became another piece of entertainment for an uncaring and leering audience.
"Hmph. At least you can listen, that's not too bad… But I can't believe you're actually doing this. This is so embarrassing for you, ugh." Laura giggled almost delightfully into her hand after a quick glance down at you by her feet.
"Now go make yourself a little useful and get me and my girlfriends some bottles."
And you did. The server coming by had to bend down to take your order from your position on the floor, an uncomfortable look from them all the while smiling professionally.
Laura didn't talk to you for the rest of the party, just chit chatting with the ladies and other people with a full glass of bubbly. It was difficult to convince yourself to change sitting positions to relieve the burning numbness in your thighs and legs when you'd sense Laura's overwhelming grey gaze over you as if to check whether or not you listened well.
The smallest quirk of her auburn eyebrows gave you the feeling while she wasn't exactly pleased- she had approved, even without sparing another word. The tingles across your spine from knowing that was wonderful.
You felt that hours must've passed but in reality the night had just begun.
Excusing herself for the restroom, Laura got off the bar stool and in the process accidentally her heels half-stepping on your thigh, gifting you sharp and hard pain. She let out a laugh as she disappeared to the back of the bar while you swear you could still feel the indent and shape of her stiletto heels.
A cute mousy woman looks down at you with eyes shining in concern before returning her attention to the rest of her drunken friends at the table. "Don't you guys think she's being a little mean to that poor man?"
The drunkest woman hiccuped and smacked the table, loudly scoffing. "Oh please! He wants to be here, it's his choice- if you were really worried about him then you would've tried to pull us all away from here. But you didn't, so it's not that bad."
"A pathetic fuck is what that is, the poor guy." Another friend of Laura's laughed snidely, downing a shot from the third round of drinks that you paid for.
You were just there, an existing humiliation as the conversation continued to flow above your head— soon enough the women forgot about you as more desserts and colourful drinks were served
Meant the lighter your wallet felt, it didn't matter because you loved every throbbing second of it.
You were becoming Laura's personal walking ATM machine. Disposable.
. . .
Sephora shopping sprees with a group of beautiful women sounds like a dream come true, especially when you've been dragged along by Laura every week– it wasn't a problem after the first month or so but she ignored your tiny protests to meet her despite her knowing you had work today. It's not as if she cared about you or your hard-on.
Nothing stopped her from pressuring you to call in sick like a 'loser pig' while the invisible pressure belted around your neck squeezed pleasurably tighter as Laura verbally forced you to spend more than your consented limit.
Looks like you were going to have to cancel the restaurant reservations for your nieces and nephews or survive off the impending doom of pennies remaining in your bank account.
The only thing you couldn't cancel was the uncomfortably taunt and hardcore boner taped against your inner thigh. An order by Laura and her friends for shits and giggles.
They never checked to see or asked if you really listened to their words. They didn't need to.
You know they don't give a shit about you, the fact cementing itself pleasurably in your mind as none of your messages to your mistress received any replies. She only texts you the necessary details, nothing more and you loved it.
— 'Ashlee Avenue. Raven's spa. Tomorrow 4 PM.'
'Yes, Madame.' The only appropriate response.
. . .
But there are unfortunate times where you've made her unhappy. Just to what extent, you were about to find out her wrath.
On the pristine marble flooring of her bedroom in her shared penthouse. Her fiancè at the pool, lounging under the sun and barely batting an eye when you were ordered around.
"I'll say this once nicely, piggy, since you're going to be MY pig and anything I own should have somewhat of a brain cell left in their pathetic skulls. Am I right?" Laura's voice viciously echoed in the large room, her auburn hair lit like an intimidating smouldering flame against the entirely white walls and decor.
"Y-Yes, Madame." Instantly you answer obediently.
"Good, good! See you're not so stupid, piggy… Understand this from now onwards, if you aren't making me happy or trying to, then I'm gonna have to be the big bad wolf and blow you away." Laura let out half a cackle at her own joke before collecting her composure and continuing, looking down her sharp nose at your dog seated position in plain judgement.
She slowly lowers herself to a deep squat, serious eyes levelling an inch right above yours as she leans in slightly close, wrinkling her nose at the 'stench' of your pathetic desperation to be fully hers. Her next words almost took you out of consciousness from the shock and pleasurable terror.
"I'll blow your fucking reputation to the ground by posting about you attempting to fuck me, Mr Assistant manager, an engaged woman. You can say bye bye to your career and family if you even have any. The fucking point is, I'll destroy everything you're apart of and make sure your name is too ruined for you to get back up on your feet—"
Laura cut herself off for a short intake of breath, playfully glaring at you as if you had tired her mouth. "So if I were you, unless you want your boss finding out about you trying to steal somebody's wife, be ready to oink whenever I call for you. It's simple instructions just like opening that big fat wallet of yours for me, don't you agree, little piggy?"
"Y..Yes—" Her glare narrowed on you in warning. "— Uh, oink. Oink!"
Your brain must've fried itself on the high dosage of dopamine and horniness as you realised you were sounding out the words instead of making the actual noises a pig would. It was pathetic either way, your attempts too.
"Oh you can do better than that, I know you can." She tutted, smug in her absolute power over you. "But… practice does make perfect. Animals like you need to remember their place. Now next time oink louder, cheap piggy."
For her, you did.
🐖🐖🐖
Within the year, you've 20 000 dollars tributed to your Mistress. Everything was worth it but nobody could ever find out about the true degenerate that you are.
"Piggy piggy," a lazy beach-themed manicure hand beckons you to come closer on all fours towards the edge of the swaying hammock, the rough sand beneath grinding painfully into your bare knees and palms as you did your best efforts to oink despite the delicious exhaustion.
Laura admires her nails under the bright sunlight and barely acknowledged you, as your nose caught the faintest whiff of the expensive feminine perfume you've bought for her clinging onto her slightest tanned skin. "You still got your savings right?"
"Oink oink oink!" You hoped your voice conveyed an eager 'yes.'
"Good, good. You'd be even more useless to me if you're penniless so soon. I've drained one of your wallets high and dry huh?" She laughs without a care in the world, as she should.
"Oink oink!!!"
Yes, Mistress.
End.
😆✨ Long time, super long time, no see y'all!!! I've been crazy busy moving back to my second home country– working, and studying french!! Minus the chaotic times, I've been preparing to have a super big move, wish me goodluck!! Also can't wait to continue!!!
Xx, T.L
21 🇲🇲🇸🇬 Artist, Writer. • NSFW & sfw BLOG, BEWARE MINORS! YES I CONSENT TO ANY TRANSLATIONS OF ANY OF MY STORIES ON TUMBLR ONLY • - Let's all be a peaceful comunity (💖) All my art in this blog is free to use(commercially too)as long assets are in the tag! ☺Wattpad: Teresa Lace.🥵MASTERLIST: https://www.tumblr.com/settings/blog/teresalace-masterlist🙏Support me at My kofi: https://ko-fi.com/teresalace .me/teresalace
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