“Be my Slave” with older Eddie for the prompts please!! (Obvs we’re the slave for him)
Hiiiii, thank you, baby doll! Ilysm ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
My first time writing for Older!Eddie, so I hope it’s okay?
Warnings: Language, a little NSFW.
~*~
“I’m sorry, what?” Your jaw was agape, the array of products littering his rumpled sheets, ones that he’d previously locked out of the way when he ate your pussy until his beard was drenched and his jaw ached.
“You said you wanted to know the heavier side of the shit I’m into, right? You gonna back out on me now, kiddo?”
Your eyes nearly roll into the back of your head, muscles protesting with an engulfing sting. “I’m thirty, Eddie. I’m not a child. Whilst it might look that way to your geriatric ass—“
“Wasn’t sayin’ how old I was when my tongue was buried in your pathetic cunt just an hour ago, sweetheart. In fact,” he pauses, inhaling deeply as he leans over to snatch his Marlboros and lighter off the dinged up nightstand, retrieving one from the cellophane. He knocks the pack a few times, peering back into your eye-line, pulling a fresh stick out with a needy stare, the creases around his doe eyes blending in perfectly with his sharp features. “I can’t recall much in the realm of you having coherent speech. You were too busy crying and screaming so damned much.”
“Guess being a loser in high school has given you quite the ego now, hasn’t it?”
That comment doesn’t phase him. He shrugs a naked shoulder, threaded bracelet sliding down his wrist when he raises it, taunt knuckles protruding beneath his skin as it stretches to help him bring the flame to life. It licks the cherry to a bright sizzling burn, a smoke cloud swirling out and blanketing the room. “Just because I was a loser doesn’t mean I didn’t know how to fuck, little girl.”
It’s your turn to attempt a ridiculous deep breath. His musky scent of aftershave and your cunt still soaked into his beard, unwashed, it cascades over your every sense as he invades your space. “All your holes just open right up for me, don’t they?” His irises sparkle with mirth, a suggestion smirk pressing his mouth. He flicks the zippo closed in your face, your lids fluttering from the sudden action.
You want to remark, fish a deadly insult out to keep steering this dangerous game into further uncharted territory. Eddie’s experience clamps down on yours, leaving nothing left but a simpering mess of limbs and a panting bitch in heat. Still, you try.
“Yeah, well… Coke for seniors is free at McDonald’s, and you’re almost at that age.”
He snorts, his ringed hand propping the cigarette between his fingers and propping above your head on the wall, effectively caging you in. “See, you keep insulting me with my age, which is already a well established fact, babydoll. If you’re trying to prove a point by saying I fuck you like an old man, that bruise between your legs says otherwise.”
His free hand travels mid air, in a wiggling of calloused digits, dipping down to nudge the meat of your thick thigh in featherlight brushes. His dark curls, layered with wisps of silver — they tickle your cheek the moment he finds your immediate airspace, nose bumping your own, using it to tilt your gaze to meet his own. He doesn’t miss a beat, ashes hissing upon an inhalation, smoke being blown from a plush set of pursed lips. He wets them red, tilting his head, the words spoken across your mouth as if they’re a kiss, drifting like snow and settling, leaving behind impressions.
“Be my slave, sweetheart. Just for an hour. Let me show you what else this pre-geriatric can do.”
Word Prompts
