I had an anon request asking about Eddie and Reader intimacy sex after a hard day of work, and I meant to write a few lines, but now there is this ❤️ WC:640
boyfriend!Eddie x fem!Reader
18+Only, intimacy smut, boyfriend!Eddie, unprotected p in v, creampie
At first, sex is the last thing on either one of your minds, even though you're very much in love, because life in the real world gets exhausting. But then you go to kiss each other goodnight in bed once you're under the covers and the lights are out, and Eddie makes that needy mew sound in the back of his throat, spurred by the tongue you just slipped him, his thumb grazing your nipple through the cotton of your shirt. The kissing deepens, inhaling the smell of the soap you bought him to wash his face, and the crisp scent of laundry detergent on the pillowcase. "Fuck, I love you," he mumbles on an exhale, helping you take off the baggy tee of his that you wear to bed so that the two of you can press skin on skin. "I thought you were too tired?" you tease, snapping the waistband of his boxers, knuckles grazing the treasure trail below his bellybutton.
"Never too tired for this," he whispers, fingers seeking the heat between your legs. "Open up for me baby, I need to be inside you again." As he says it, he's moving on top of you, getting rid of his boxers, and you're pushing your underwear down your legs, offering yourself to him. Tongues flick between softly parted lips, "you miss it, don't you, baby? You miss my cock inside of you?"
"Yeah, baby, I need it," you whimper, feeling the tip stretch you a bit as he guides it in, and you buck your hips up to meet him, begging. A strand of his hair gets caught in between your lips and you caress it back behind his ear.
His mouth hovers over yours, nose pressing into your cheek, because he wants to stay as close to you as possible, sinking in with a groan. "I love how wet you get for me, baby, fuck. I love that it's all for me."
He's all the way in now, and the sensation makes you shudder, filling you with those familiar intense emotions that make a tear catch in your throat from time to time. "I love you so much," you whisper against his mouth, his hips working, unsure what saliva belongs to who. One of your hands is on his lower back, coaxing him deeper, while the other is holding his face, needing the weight of him.
He hesitates, lifting up just enough to ask if you want him to grab your vibrator out of the nightstand.
"Don't you dare go anywhere, baby. I want you just like this," you insist. You need him as close as he can be for as long as it takes.
You push hair out of his face again as his forehead rests on yours, and his thrusting gets faster, breath hitching in his chest. "I'm gonna cum so hard, holy fuck," he hisses, hips stuttering. "Do you love me, baby?"
"I love you more than anything," you whine, fingers sinking into the flesh of his hip. "I'm so in love with you."
His movements jerk and then still, exhaling a sharp breath, pouring himself into you, pushing it base deep. He always came the hardest when you told him how much you loved him.
He stiffens and rides the wave of bliss for a few seconds longer, and then you have all of his weight on you, cock staying inside until it softened enough to slide out. Your orgasms were plentiful with Eddie, but this time, even without it, your pleasure was equal to his.
Exhaling hot breaths against your throat, he hushed, "I've never loved anyone this much," and then both sets of eyes fluttered heavy and the pillow was calling.
You let him be the little spoon that night.
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[For context, I'm an agnostic lesbian raised Mormon with some scattered Catholic influences from summers with my bio dad and his family. I have buckets of religious trauma and associations as a very predictable result, though not everything was terrible.]
So I was waiting for my best friend and his girlfriend to get home from dinner with my BFF's mother—this is the first time his girlfriend, who was a close friend of mine before meeting him, had met his family. Ash had gone downstairs to change and wipe off her make-up when someone knocked insistently at our door.
The doorknob is a bit persnickety so I rushed to let in my BFF, only to find myself facing down an unexpected but very familiar sight: young male Mormon missionaries.
me: Oh ... hi.
missionaries: Good evening, ma'am. Would you like to hear news about Jesus?
me: Um, I'm not—I'm a member, actually. I was raised in the Church.
missionaries: Really?
me: Yes :) I was the pianist for the primary in our old ward for years :)
missionaries: Oh, what ward was that?
me: St Helens. I didn't really go when I was in grad school and I just graduated.
missionaries: Ahh, I see. Well, if you want to go back, [directions to the local church].
me: Thank you.
missionaries, after a very awkward pause: Do you need any help with anything?
me: Oh, we're... [*resists the urge to point out that the other household members who just happened to be absent are a Jewish atheist socialist, a devoutly Muslim bisexual post-colonial scholar, and an Exvangelical trans woman still processing her rage, and none of them would have the slightest desire to get help from Mormons*] We're good, really. My parents are the ones who would need help from the Church, I think, and they live over in [town], so their closest ward is actually the one in [other town] and they can reach out to them. Thanks, though :)
missionaries: We could just leave our number with you in case you ever needed anything.
me [very conscious of the temptation to call on the Church when a crisis strikes and I desperately need help, and how trapped and shitty I feel afterwards]: That's really nice, but I think we're fine. There are several of us here. I hope you have a good night, though! :)
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