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dwobbitfromtheshire · 7 months

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I'm clearing out my draft folder again.

Steve and Robin were running through Starcourt, high as fuck when Steve skidded to a stop in front of Eddie Munson.

"You look like Eddie Munson," Steve giggled.

"Steve!" Robin said with wide eyes. "I think that is - "

"Man, what happened to your face?" Eddie asked.

"Funny story, can you keep a secret from Eddie?" Steve said seriously.

"Sure," Eddie grinned.

"No, Steve, that's - ,"

"ANYWAY," Steve rolled his eyes at Robin. "I had this crush on him in freshman year. Do you think I should tell him?"

"Uh - are you guys on drugs?" Eddie asked.

"YES! But we didn't want to," Robin said. "They wanted information."

"Aw, fuck, there's this guy that works with Rick. Real sketchy. I told him he needs to let him go before he gets Rick into trouble, but does Rick listen to me? Nah!" Eddie exclaimed. "Look, whatever the hell he gave you should wear off. Not all drug dealers are like that. What we pitch to you is what you get. What you want is what you get. Okay, let's get you guys to the bathroom and try to get it out of your system. Come on."

"I'm going to tell Eddie," Steve said with a grin. "Shh! Wait here. I'll tell you how it goes."

Steve ran off with Robin on his tail. Eddie cursed and chased after them. They got distracted by the lights hanging overhead and started spinning around, gazing at them in awe.

"You guys do not want to do that," Eddie said, and they started heaving before they ran off in the direction of the bathrooms. "And that's why."

He ran off after them and into the bathroom room, where they vomited into the toilets. Eddie knelt down next to him and stroked Steve’s hair as he emptied the contents of his stomach. Once Steve was done, he leaned his head into Eddie's touch and closed his eyes, letting Eddie stroke his hair. He whined when Eddie moved away and saw him go to the sink. He came back with a wet, soapy paper towel and started cleaning Steve’s face.

"I guess I'm chopped liver," Robin said. "It's okay, I'll get it myself."

Steve laughed and made a face at the taste in his mouth. Eddie clapped a hand on his back.

"I'll be right back," Eddie said.

He rushed off to buy a couple of toothbrushes and toothpaste. He also picked up what he thought was lip balm. When he returned, he he heard them talking. They were clearly bonding, solidifying their working relationship into a friendship. Or maybe something more considering how Robin was talking about watching Steve. Shit, maybe Eddie should leave. They were talking about someone else now.

"But Tammy Thompson's a girl," Steve said.

"Yeah," Robin said.

"Oh."

Or maybe not. Oh God, Robin was coming out to Steve, and Eddie was overhearing it. Oh God, what should he do? He was frozen to the spot. Steve was going on about how Tammy Thompson was a total dud and how she sounded like a Muppet. Eddie snorted. Yeah, that was true.

"I can't believe you're making fun of my crush," Robin laughed. "What about yours?"

"Hey, at least Eddie can sing," Steve replied.

Fuck! Okay, so he had been telling the truth then.

"How do you know he can sing?" Robin asked.

"My car broke down near the Hideout one night, and I heard him singing. He was playing with his band, Corroded Coffin," Steve said. "They were really good. I was going to go talk to him, but I kind of thought that the drummer was his girlfriend, but that's crazy. I mean, guys and girls can just be friends, right?"

"I like to think so," Robin replied.

There was a long pause in their conversation, which gave Eddie plenty of opportunity to burst through the door.

"Okay, so I have a green toothbrush and a pink one," Eddie said. "Which one do you guys want?"

"Ooh, pink," Steve said and they stared at him. "What?"

"Nothing," Eddie said in amusement.

He watched as they brushed their teeth. Well, he mostly watched Steve.

"So, how much of our conversation did you hear?" Steve asked, setting his toothbrush on the sink.

"What? I didn't hear anything. Were you guys talking about something?" He asked.

"Seriously?" Robin asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I didn't hear anything that you guys didn't want me to hear," Eddie said.

"I don't think you're the kind of guy who would spill the beans on us," Robin said. "At least, I hope not so you don't have to deny anything."

"Ooh, lip gloss," Steve plucked it out of Eddie's hand. "May I?"

"Yeah, I thought it was lip balm," Eddie frowned. "So, have you always known that you liked guys?"

"Not just guys, girls too," Steve said as he started applying the lip gloss to his pouty lips. "I'm bisexual."

"Did you always know you were bisexual?" Eddie asked as he watched Steve’s lips intently.

"Well, yes and no," Steve said. "It was more like a slow build-up to my realization. Like more and more evidence started piling up that I could no longer deny."

"So, it wasn't like you looked at someone one day and realized 'shit, I'm into dudes, now?" Eddie asked as his eyes raked over the swell of his ass.

"It's always kind of been there. Why?" Steve asked as he closed the lip gloss.

"No reason," Eddie blushed, looking at his shoes.

"Oh my god!" Robin exclaimed. "You woke him up."

"What?" Steve asked.

"You woke him up!" Robin exclaimed, and Eddie quickly hid behind his hair.

"It's the outfit!" Eddie shrieked.

"So, what is it about the outfit that does it for you?" Steve asked.

"It's everything! The socks! The shorts that fill out your ass fantastically, by the way! And the shirt with the red bow tie in front," Eddie said. "It's just the whole fucking outfit."

"You should see me in the hat," Steve said in amusement.

Suddenly, Dustin and Erica burst into the bathroom before Steve could say anything else.

"There you are!" Dustin shrieked.

"Hey, could you give us a minute?" Steve asked Robin.

Robin quickly started ushering the kids out of the bathroom.

"But, Steve?!" Dustin asked.

"Out!" Robin yelled and shut the door behind them.

"I like you and as badly as I want to kiss you right now. . . I don't want it to be after I vomited in a bathroom. Plus, you still need to figure things out. If you still want me a few days from now. Call me. I have to deal with these kids I babysit. So go home and think things over," Steve said softly.

There was something that Steve wasn't telling him, but Eddie knew that he was also right. Besides, it was late. Steve placed his hands on Eddie's shoulders and pressed a kiss to his cheek, close to the corner of his mouth. It felt much like Steve was promising him something. Steve pulled away and started moving toward the door.

"Hey, Steve?" Eddie asked.

"Yeah?"

"I'm definitely going to call you," Eddie said.

Steve laughed and walked out of the bathroom, leaving them both with hope for the future.

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carolmunson · 8 months

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the cars that go boom | (daddydom!sadist!eddie)

this fic isn't related to the title song reference at all, it's just stuck in my head. needed to get this out of my drafts so here's some ddlg themed sadist eddie that's been sitting in my draft folder for fucking ever and i'm sick of looking at it. tw: 18+ mdni ddlg dynamics, daddy kink, eddie being all over a cocky shit bag hottie who likes control but it's consensual, use of a vibrating toy. lots of allusions to other sex.

You watch him get out of the bathroom after his shower, tattoos stretched taught over softly cut muscles. You almost drool. He tried something new with you this week, an orgasm ban -- nearly a sex ban -- in fact, he didn't even want you to see his dick. And much like he always does when he finds a new way to torture you; he was feeling really pleased with himself about it.

'That's more than you deserve,' he hissed at you Monday night while you knelt obediently between his legs. He pet your hair while you watched TV and he jerked himself off, you were not allowed to turn around until he was finished. You pouted all night, and when it happened the next day you started pouting all week. But, the week was over, which meant your punishment was done. You'd spent all day getting ready, a long shower, smooth skin, body butter, his favorite perfume, everything you could do to feel perfect for him. You cleaned the trailer and made dinner, you kissed him when he got in the door to which he blushed and smiled.

'Hi beautiful,' he greeted you so gently, 'I missed you today.'

You watch him dress now, hair dripping while he tugs on a pair of grey sweatpants and a ratty cut off Iron Maiden t-shirt. You sulk a little. Those aren't normally the clothes he'd put on if he wanted to take you to bed, but you don't say anything just yet.

He goes to the kitchen table with a composition notebook and a collection of pens and markers, opening the beat up pages to what you can only assume is a new campaign, a new drawing of a map. You walk over while he mulls over it, adding new territory, scribbling in new lore. You let your hands slide over his shoulders.

"Hi baby," you say sweetly.

"Hi," he responds, focused on his notebook. Your hands slide forward, onto his chest, your face leaning down to his, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"Whatcha doing?" you ask innocently.

"Workin' on a campaign," he responds, "We're gonna meet up on Wednesday night so I want it to be semi together."

"Okay," you nod, you run your fingers gently over his scalp, giving him a soft scratch. He keens into the touch, shoulders relaxing while he rolls his head back. You press your luck, letting your fingertip trace over the curve of his ear.

"Hey," he warns softly, "I'm tryin' to focus, sweetheart."

"Oh, I'm sorry," you apologize, but he can't see your grin. Your fingers continue to wander, giving him a sweet shoulder massage while he reads over his story. A quiet 'thank you honey', falls from his full lips while you work out the knots. You press your luck again, trailing your finger down the line of his neck that's the most sensitive to your tongue and touch. Eddie's shoulders tense and he sits up straight, turning to you with a sour pull at his full lips.

"Do you need something?" he asks pointedly. You feel heat rush to your cheeks, "Do you need some attention?"

You nod and he grins, pulling the other kitchen chair over, "Come sit next to me then, you can help."

You roll your eyes and sit down next to him, he bites his tongue at the offense, happy to get to spend some time with you like this. He gives you a chaste kiss on your cheek while you watch him work.

You barely 'help', just sitting there while he crosses things out and re-writes them. While he flips back ten pages and then forward twenty, grabbing a red pencil and putting it down for a blue pencil then picking the red back up and so on. You get restless watching him work, so you get up and grab each of you a beer. Another sugar sweet, 'thaaank you baby,' pours from him, this time deep and focused, dark and syrupy. Molasses tongue. It goes right to your thighs.

You press your luck a third time, scooting close to him, letting your hand smooth over his covered thigh and further up, skimming over his cock that was perfectly outlined in his sweats. He let's out a frustrated sigh when he takes your hand away from his crotch, gently putting it on your lap when he looks at you sternly.

"Daddy's busy, baby," his eyes look down at you, his dominance brewing under angry brows, "Why don't you go play by yourself in another room, hm?"

He turns his attention back to the campaign notebook, while you throb from being scolded. The humilation pools through you when he chastises you, eyes lingering on you while you continue to sit there. After a beat, you get up to walk to the bedroom hearing his voice as you do.

"Good girl," he teases, "Are you being a good listener?"

You look back and see his grin while he leans back in the kitchen chair, crossing his arms. His legs are spread wide under the table, cool authority flowing off of him.

"Are you?" he asks again, a smirk cracking his face as if to ask, 'Does this embarrass you?' It does, it's humiliating.

"I'm a very good listener," you respond quietly, heart dropping in your chest.

His brows raise, waiting for you to add more to the sentence. You let out an aggravated huff through your nose, crossing your arms.

"I'm a very good listener, daddy," you repeat.

"There we go," he smiles cruelly, "Go have fun, sweetheart."

'Have fun? HAVE FUN?' you think to yourself while you go to the bedroom and shut the door with a firm click, 'Fine! I'll have fun without you then! See if I care!' It's not fair that you've been quite literally begging to be fucked for seven straight days, but to go straight into teasing you like this? The type of dominance that makes you feel the most -- god -- embarrassed? Degraded? You'd rather gag on fingers and have him wipe your spit on your face. You'd rather him make you lick someone's cum out of his ass, literally anything but this.

With a huff you open Eddie's top dresser drawer and grab the Hitatchi he bought you as an anniversary gift last year. Hastily, you plug it in behind the bedside table before climbing on to bed, shimmying your jeans off and tossing them to the floor.

Your legs spread, bent at the knees, turning the toy on low and slowly lowering it onto your covered core. The hum is quiet, barely a tremble in the head of the wand when it meets the lacy fabric of your panties. A soft gasp escapes you at the feeling, it had felt like years since you'd been touched there. You move the toy up and down slowly, teasing yourself, little puffs of breath escaping you as you do.

With a click, the buzz intensifies, sliding the head upward to settle softly on your clothed clit. You whimper while your hips start to move slowly against the vibrations, the whirr of the toy filling your ears while your eyes shut. You keep yourself like this for a little, enjoying the slow sensation, the mild tease. You feel it start, like the hook looping into the first car of a roller coaster train, the first tug when the attendant hits 'go'.

“Huh!” you gasp out breathy while your hips twitch. Your lower lips start to swell against the gusset of your bottoms, slick building between them. A slow start. You savor it, a small smile pulling at your lips.

“Look so pretty like that, baby,” you hear his voice and gasp, tossing the toy next to you and snapping your legs shut. He smirks, a devilish chuckle bubbles from his chest, “Oh no, don’t let me interrupt. I said you could go play by yourself, and look at you…”

His voice raises in a lilt, while he sits on the bed. He passes you the wand and smiles, “You’re being such a good girl for me.”

“Go on,” he says with a nod, “Show daddy how you were playing.” You lean back on the pillows, opening up your legs again slowly. He glances between them, eyes flitting down to your mound briefly before meeting your eyes again, he subconciously licks his lips. You keep your legs up and bent up against your chest so he has a view, puffing out a soft sigh when you click the toy on again. He looks at you with a hazy gleam in his brown eyes, nodding slowly at you to remind you of his permission. You run it up your thigh before settling it back down on the center of your slit, letting the vibrations pulse over your entire core. "Hm," you hum out softly as your brows pinch together in a tilt. "Aw, yeah?" he coos out, "Does that feel good?"

"Mhm," you whine, lower lip tucked tight between your teeth. Yuo swallow when he reaches his hand out, smoothing over the soft plushness of your inner thigh. He squeezes, grinning when you let out a soft grunt with a twitch of your hips.

"You've been so patient this week," he purrs, "Such a good girl. Isn't that right?"

You nod hurriedly, watching his hand slide up your thigh, his index finger tracing up the hem of your underwear. It's a smooth hand off, watching his rings gleam in the bedside lamp when it wraps around the handle, both of your hands falling flat by your head. Your palms face the ceiling, matching your eyes when he turns up the vibrations. "Isn't that right, baby doll?" he asks, adding a gentle pressure up against you. Your pussy strains against the fabric the more excited you get, back already in a soft arch while you push into the mattress. "Y-yes, sir," you manage to mutter out. "No, no, that's not who I am tonight," he admonishes, still in a soft and steady voice, almost sweet -- like you don't understand anything. He takes the toy away; making you whimper, leaning up on your elbows behind you.

"You know how to address me," he says, a serpentine confidence flashing in his face, "You're a big girl, aren't you? Or do I have to teach you?"

You let out a shrill groan, head leaning back on it's hinge while your legs kick out in frustration in front of you.

"Hmm, of course," he says, getting up off the bed to pull off his shirt and slide off his sweats. His boxer briefs hug him in tight but it's there and it's missed you more than you've missed it this week, "You act like this and you don't think I should treat you like a little girl?"

You look up at him, bitten lower lip jutting out with a sheen of spit.

"So pouty, too," he coos, crawling onto the mattress between your parted thighs. He sits up on his knees, tall over your frame splayed out on the bed. He lifts one of your legs, pressing it flush against his chest so your foot rests by his ear.

"M'not pouty," you say back while his other hand reaches over your cheek with a light back before splaying over your jaw. His thumb brushes your lower lip before pressing on the dip at the center.

"Open," he instructs, you don't even think to stop yourself. You suck his thumb slow, letting your tongue lave over the length all the while. Spit fills your mouth, wet and eager, already inching at the corners of your mouth. You might as well drool. "Very good," he purrs again from the back of his throat, "Someone learned her lesson this week."

You nod, taking his wrist to steady his hand while you take more initiative with his thumb, implying what you really want.

"Don't get too ahead of yourself," he says lowly, taking his thumb from your mouth. He wipes the spit on your cheek before reaching back over to the wand, keeping your legs spread and holding thight to your thigh against his front.

Your hips shimmy when he holds the toy back in place, thumb running over the power button but not pressing down.

"Hey," he says, commanding, "Look up at me."

Your gaze snaps to his in unadulterated obedience, his distaste for even having to ask evident on his face, "You know better."

"I know better," you nod while you say it, confirming his words. "You do not ever stop looking at me," he glowers down.

"I don't ever stop looking at you," you repeat back, needy for whatever he has for you next. Your hips shimmy again, you try to stifle the whine in your throat but it comes out just the same; desperate and childish. "Oh, baby, do you need help asking for what you want?" his voice lilts, "Does daddy have to guess?" "Turn it on, please," you whisper. "Please what, princess?" he asks, voice mocking with a knowing stare, leaning down so your knee hooks over his shoulder. His chest hovers at an angle over you, chain and guitar pick dangling over your lips. "Please what?" he asks again. "Please daddy," you whine, "Please turn the toy on." "Look at those manners," he grins wickedly, "My sweet girl."

He turns it on, speed setting high with the flick of his finger. It rumbles loud, thighs already twitching while runs it back and forth over your sensitive clit. "Fuck," you gasp out, eyes rolling, "Oh my god, right there." "That's not a very nice word, sweetheart," he chastises, "What do you say?"

"S-sorr-Oh! Oh my god! Oh! -- Sorry, d--shitshitshitshit-- sorrysorrysorrysorry," you nearly cry when the cord in your belly snaps, gushing into the fabric against your core. He greedily keeps your thighs apart, watching while you come undone under him. You gulp when he doesn't take the toy away, your sensitive nerves screaming at the buzz of the vibrator. Your hips writhe and jump, trying to pull away from it all the while he's shaking his head no.

"Gotta hear that apology, princess," he murmurs, "Say sorry."

"Sorry daddy, I'm sorry," you babble out, "M'sorry I'll be so good, I'll be good." He let's out a satisfied hum, clicking the wand off and placing it gingerly on the bedside table. His hand lingers for a moment to make sure it doesn't roll off and then finds it's footing back on the mattress.

"You'll be so good?"

"So good," you nod when he settles back between your thighs. He crawls forward like a cat, pressing his hips slowly up against yours. You sigh needily when you feel the drag of his erection against you, whimpering when you see it affect him the same way. "Shit, baby," he smirks, trying not to break character while he grinds against you a second time, "Fuck." "That's not a very nice word," you tease back, looking up at him through heavy lids. "Well I'm not a very nice guy, am I?" he muses, leaning in to kiss you deeply before one hand reaches down to tug at your panties. You giggle, a sound that sends him reeling when he's in this kind of mood. "You're very nice," you whisper against his lips. "Hmm, yeah?" he growls, noses brushing while he lingers above you. He offers another roll of his hips right before he gets to work on pulling your panties down slipping them off of each ankle with ease. Undressed completely below him, he admires you. He hadn't seen you like this all week, finally getting what you've been waiting for. So patient, so willing. He runs his hands from shoulders to hips, greedy fingers digging into you rough and tumble, grabbing and kneading with disregard to comfort. "Daddy," you start, getting his attention in a voice that makes him ready to serve accordingly, "Fuck me."

A smirk splits his face, it's cute when you ask so brazenly when you're busy looking at him with those sad puppy eyes. "Please, fuck me," you reiterate while he readies himself, boxer briefs peeling off to leave him bare. Your soft gasp at the release of his cock is more of an ego trip than he expected to have, never realizing how much you truly need him like this. How you can really only get off to him, how you've submitted in every way you could. "Daddy's gonna fuck you, sweetheart," he says steadily, climbing back ontop of you, pressing your thighs to your chest, "God, m'gonna fuck you real good."

He leans in for another hungry kiss, ownership laced in his lips. When he breaks away you catch his chin in your hand, an action that makes him bristle, jaw clenching at your attempt at control.

"Fuck me like I've been bad," you request in a timbre so low he nearly melts at the sound, "Fuck me how you fuck bad girls."

He's never flipped you over so fast in your life.

#eddie munson smut #dom!eddie munson #daddydom!eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader

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writtenfangirl · 1 year

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The Light

In which Benedict Bridgerton counts the ways he loves you.

I've had this idea for a while and this draft has been sitting in my draft folders for lord knows how long but I finally decided to publish it! After initially reading the Bridgerton books, I want the world to know that Benedict has always been my favorite Bridgerton brother because I relate to him the most.

Epilogue

I. In the quiet moments

Saturday morning was always quiet in Aubrey Hall, Benedict’s childhood home. With Aubrey Hall in the throes of summer, that meant the Y/L/N’s stayed with them. Her mother’s dearest friend had always been Y/M/N, having debut in society together. They had made it their tradition to visit one another during the summer and where Y/M/N, it usually meant Y/N followed. Y/N, who was Y/M/N’s only child with her husband, Y/F/N. She was two years younger than Benedict but they had always been close.

He was always the first one up, and as the cook and the maids prepare breakfast, he would often sneak away towards Y/N’s room. He knew propriety dictates that such an action was uncouth but he was a child and Y/N was his best friend and so he snuck in anyway.

He knocked first. That secret knock they devised just last summer so the person on the other side knew that it was them.

Knock. Knock-knock. Knock.

The door swung open, as if already expecting him. Y/N was already awake and dressed, her hair tied up in a ribbon, her dress clean and pressed. Though Y/N only came to visit Aubrey Hall during the summers, the times that she did were some of Benedict’s favorites and they had their routine down to a tee.

“What are we doing today, Benedict?” Y/N asked, as she did every morning.

“We can go visit the lake and see how many animals we can see in the clouds in the sky!”

“Okay!” Y/N said with a childish giggle.

Benedict gripped her hand, leading Y/N out of her room, past the gardens and towards the lake that bordered their estate.

They spent the morning watching the sky, their backs pressed against the grass, giggles emanating from the duo as they argued about whether that cloud looked like a frog or a bunny. Their hands were still tightly held within each other’s grasp and they didn’t let go until they were called to breakfast and Benedict dared Y/N to race him back to the manor.

He knew then that he loved her. She was his best friend and best friends loved each other no matter what.

II. In the loud moments

Benedict’s family was considerably large and though he loved his siblings dearly, he knew that there was never any quiet when it came with them.

They were loud. And boisterous. Unless they had guests, dinners with the Bridgertons usually ended with dinner being flung across the table. Y/N’s mother had arrived sick with a head cold and had requested to have dinner in her room alone, leaving Y/N to have dinner with the Bridgertons all and on her own. And though Y/N was not a Bridgerton, Benedict knew how much the Bridgertons loved her, especially because she was privy to their chaos.

Chaos, most especially seen in Aubrey Hall, where 10 year old Anthony had begun sending their father, Edmund, mischievous looks.

Violet, as if sensing the impending doom, had a warning tone already ready. “Anthony Bridgerton, don’t you dare.”

But Anthony paid his mother no heed. Instead, a mischievous smirk stretched across his face before he jumped on the table and loudly screamed, “FOOD FIGHT!” before proceeding to ham fist the mash potatoes, flinging it towards Colin’s open mouth.

Chaos irrupted from the table as everyone, including Benedict’s parents took their own food, flinging it across the other side. Benedict’s mother was laughing in glee despite her previous protestations and Edmund had declared himself Violet’s knight in shining armor, shielding her from the onslaught of lamb stew that Colin threw their way.

Almost instinctively, Benedict felt Y/N’s hand grip his own, pulling him down towards her before Daphne, who was but two and couldn’t possibly understand what was going on but could understand that fun was being had, could hit him with the mashed peas on her plate.

Then and there, Benedict knew he loved Y/N. It would be difficult not to love her when she would willingly sacrifice her favorite dress to spare Benedict the green stains of mashed peas.

III. In the moments you do not share

He missed Y/N, terribly so. Being away to Eton meant he didn’t see Y/N nearly as much as he wanted to and though they wrote each other letters, it just did not suffice.

She had been a constant in his life and her sudden absence felt like a rock wedged between his ribs where his heart should be.

He enjoyed his time at Eton, he truly did. They were schoolboys and youth was their elixir of joy. It meant living life free of inhibitions, gambling and drinking and finding women to fill their beds. But none of his friends could ever hope to replace Y/N’s presence. With Y/N there was no bravado, no explanation. Just unhurried conversation and fun he could remember tomorrow.

He couldn’t wait to see her and his much needed vacation in a week was enough to give Benedict a spring in his step.

Today also happened to be mail day and though he knew he was going to see his best friend in a week, he still anticipated her weekly letter.

With the letter slipped into his dorm at the end of the day, he quickly sliced through the wax that bore Y/N’s family crest, reading through its content.

My dearest, Benedict,

I suspect that by the time you receive this letter, the time between us seeing each other will have considerably shortened. I miss you terribly. Summers in Aubrey Hall are simply not the same without you. Colin has turned whiny waiting for his two older brothers to come home and spend the summer with him. Daphne is growing taller by the day and Eloise has begun to learn how to read. She and Francesca are joined by the hip everyday. Your mother and father are as splendid as always and I suspect a Bridgerton whose name begins with G will soon join us.

I am quite alright though I am shamed to admit how terribly I’ve missed my greatest friend. My mother and father are also splendid as is the rest of my family. Do come home in one piece. I’m afraid I may go slowly mad with Colin pestering me everyday.

The Light of Your Life, Y/N Y/L/N

Y/N’s words brought him all the comfort he needed. He loved his time in Eton but he could not deny it’s loneliness. His friends couldn’t understand how it is he could possibly miss his family but theirs was a strange existence. His parents valued love above all else and he had grown up alongside his siblings in a home full of love and laughter.

And he knew then that he loved Y/N for her ability to assure him, to lull him into a calm that could keep his mood afloat for days.

IV. In the moments you do share

Oh how he missed her. He missed the way Y/N’s H/C hair whips through the wind, carrying with her heady scent. He missed her twinkling laughter, her teasing smile. He especially missed the feel of her hand grasped around his.

They were growing up and though Benedict knew that their youth would still be with them, there was a certain kind of melancholy that came with the realization that things will not always be as they were. Y/N had informed him that with her debut to society next year, she would not be able to spend the summers with him. He couldn’t imagine Y/N married to anyone, let alone married to anyone unworthy of her and he had been insistent that he spent next year’s summer with her.

“Y/N, light of my life,” he said, his tone serious but his eyes lit with jest. He’d begun calling her that after he heard his father call his mother the light of his life and he knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that Y/N was the light of his life. He pulled them to a stop, Aubrey Hall looming in front of them despite being a great distance away.

“Yes, Benedict, light of my life?” She said demurely.

“Do you think you can make me a promise?”

“What promise is that?”

“You won’t marry someone unworthy of you.”

At that, she laughed. “If I have any say about it I shan’t marry at all. But I’ve held it off as long as I can. I’m twenty one now and mother is at her wits end.” But her eyes grew serious and somber, her laughter slipping from her lips. She looked at him as though she knew deeply, truly, what was inside Benedict’s heart. He reached for her, felt the silky lock of hair that fell from her chignon, her breath that feathered across his wrist as he tucked the strand of hair behind her ear. His eyes were fully trained on her face, at the way her lashes swept across her cheeks, the red flush that crept up her neck that Benedict knew would take him weeks to shade match. He wouldn’t deign call her cheeks rosy. She would hate him for comparing her to something so common.

If Benedict were to paint her at this moment, he’d call it Summer’s Embrace. It captured her beauty, the ephemerality of today.

He could feel the heat of her and it was as if that very heat burrowed itself within him, finding a home in his heart. When she spoke again, her words were but a whisper, the spoken promise of planets swearing fealty to their stars. “I swear to you, Benedict. I will not marry someone who is not worthy of me.”

And with her promise, it was as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He could feel the rush of air in his lungs mixed with her heady scent, the scent of childhood and misty early mornings. He felt her hand squeeze his own in earnest and Benedict knew that she would keep her promise forever if she could. He loved her then, for that promise. How could he not love the way she loved herself? Fiercely and with a protectiveness that Benedict knew was reserved for him and only him.

V. In the soft moments

There were no nights as special as rainy nights and none were as special as the ones he got to share with Y/N.

Knock. Knock-knock. Knock.

The door flung open, revealing Y/N. Her E/C were shiny with excitement, her face positively glowing.

She was wearing her simplest dress, covered only by a black frock that Benedict had leant her once that she refused to return. Her feet was clad in her finest riding boots and Benedict nearly had to clamp his own mouth shut to keep from rejoicing.

“It’s raining,” Benedict noted with a grin.

“I gathered as much,” Y/N said with a grin as equally mischievous as his.

“It would be the responsible thing to stay indoors. You are to leave for London tomorrow and I imagine that such a long journey may end in you getting a head cold.“

“Benedict, light of my life, when have we ever been responsible?” She looked at up at him, grinning like the devil.

And before the both of them lost their nerve, Benedict grabbed Y/N’s hand, sneaking them down the stairs and past the gardens, letting the rain wash over them.

Oh he adored the rain’s ability to wash away everything. And he knew how much Y/N loved the rain too. How she adored letting it fall on her skin as she jumped over puddles and danced on the wet grass.

Her long hair stuck to her forehead, giving her the appearance of a drowned cat but her wide smile more than made up for it. Even in the darkness that smile could light up a thousand lanterns and Benedict never found her more beautiful than she looked now.

A sudden feeling seized him and before cowardice could choke it down, he was already pulling her to him. “Y/N, I must tell you something,” Benedict yelled over the din of the rain, catching her chin between his fingers. Drops of rain were caught between her lashes, her breath coming out in pants between her lips.

Goddess Divine. That’s what he’d call this painting of her.

“What is it, Benedict?”

He swallowed. An invisible force had consumed him, wrenching the words from his lips before he could stop them. “I love you.”

Her eyes widened, her mouth falling open in surprise. “W-what?”

“I love you,” he repeated, courage surging within him, his previous hesitancy evaporating like steam. His hand reached for hers almost instinctively. He felt her warmth, the way the heat of her hand seemed to jolt through his body like static. “Most ardently. In every way a man could love a woman, I love you. You are truly the light of my life and without you, I am pitched in darkness. You are the cracks in my heart but also balm soothes that it. I love you, Y/N. I have spent years of my life loving you in secret and I can bear it no more. I love you.”

He could see it in her eyes, the love she bore for him. It was the same love he felt for her, a garden in full bloom. But the words that followed her were not the words he thought he’d hear. “Benedict, I have been promised to someone else.”

VI. In the hard moments

“What?”

“I have no choice,” Y/N’s voice was cracking as hard as his heart. “My father has promised my hand to another. My debut, it is a farce, meant only to assuage his guilt for selling his only daughter. I am to be married to the Duke of Albany before the season ends and then he will ship me away to the colonies. He sold me to the Duke to pay off his debts. I have no dowry, no money. I thought to spend my last summer with the people who loved me, truly loved me. The Bridgertons have treated me as their own family. You have treated me as your own. Benedict, please I am so sorry.” She was rambling now, that much he could see. She always did that whenever she was close to crying, as if the fast words would somehow catch her tears before they fell.

He should say something, he knew he should but the words stuck to his throat like honey. It was all too much in too little time. Married? Shipped to the colonies? Benedict thought he had more time. More time to charm her parents and offer himself as a candidate for her hand in marriage. He’d already had every intention of marrying her but now his plans had turned to ash in front of his eyes.

“This was a mistake,” Y/N muttered pulling her hand away his. “I never should’ve come. I should’ve left like my father had suggested. He was right. This is all too hard.“

Thunder clashed like rolling drums in the sky. What has once been a pleasant pitter-patter of rain had turned into a torrential downpour, soaking Benedict to the bone. Any warmth he had felt had dissipated, leaving him shivering.

Before Benedict could stop her, Y/N was already racing towards Aubrey Hall, leaving Benedict with the bitter taste of heartbreak in his tongue.

VII. In the moments they shared with others

He was a fool. A right bloody fool who didn’t deserve her.

How could he have let her slipped free so easily? When Benedict had finally come to his senses, Y/N had already fled Aubrey Hall, taking her carriage and lady’s maid with her. Before Benedict could hope to give chase, Anthony had stopped him, citing that the heavy rain had made the roads treacherous.

“All the more reason to chase after her!” Benedict bellowed, his insides twisted in worry. He was still dripping wet from the rain, the roaring fire doing nothing to dry him off. “If something were to happen to her, I could never forgive myself.”

“Dearest, you must calm yourself,” Violet said in a soothing voice. “Y/N is strong. She is more than capable of taking care of herself.”

“You don’t understand, Mama,” Benedict said clearly still agitated. “She is to marry!”

“It is her first season and she hasn’t even debuted yet,” Anthony said with a furrowed brow.

“She is engaged to be married to the Duke of Albany. He means to live in the colonies and take her with him. He’s going to take away my Y/N. Mama, Anthony, please we must make haste and stop them.” He was begging now but he didn’t care. He’d beg on the very streets of London if it meant stopping Y/N’s wedding.

“The Duke of Albany’s 30 years her senior!” Anthony protested. “Her father couldn’t possible mean to marry her off to that odious man!”

“Hush, my darling,” Violet said as she pulled Benedict into hug despite their large height difference and how wet he was. “When the rain abates, I will join you myself in stopping their wedding.”

“Mama, I love her. I cannot. I—“

“I know,” Violet soothed. “It will be alright, Benedict. You shall see.”

But he couldn’t see. If Y/N reaches London, he knew in his heart of hearts that she would marry the Duke and sail off to the colonies without saying good bye. He knew it to be true because it is what Y/N would believe to be the best for them. If she left for the colonies, Benedict would never see her again and this would ease the heartbreak. At least, this is what she was likely telling herself to assuage her guilt.

But Y/N didn’t know how much affection Benedict carried in his heart for her. He could never love another woman so long as she breathed and even if she were to pass before him, she would hold his heart in her bones forever.

“I have to go get her.” Benedict declared, ripping himself away from his mother’s embrace.

Ignoring his brother’s cries, Benedict ran from the sitting room, towards the stables. Grim determination had consumed him, his thoughts focused on Y/N and only Y/N.

He’d go on horseback. It will be faster and he was a decent rider, he could catch up to her. He had to.

“My lord,” the stablehand stammered upon seeing him. The smell of horses permeated his nose though it wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be.

“Help me, please. Our fastest horse.” Benedict panted, his breath winded from his short run.

“But, my lord, it is pouring. I can prepare the carriage—“

“No, I’ll be faster on horseback. Please do as I ask.”

The stablehand simply nodded and ran through the notions of preparing their fastest horse.

He heard his brother first before he saw him.

“Benedict, do not be rash.” Anthony was now as wet as he was from the rain.

“I am going and you cannot hope to stop me.” Benedict barely spared his brother a glance. “A little rain never hurt anyone.”

“Then I shall go with you,” Anthony motioned to the stablehand to prepare another horse.

“Follow after me if you’d like but as soon as my horse is finished, I will ride.”

The stablehand moved quickly, cinching belts and hoops in record time and it wasn’t long before Benedict was on the saddle, the stable doors banging open as his horse leapt through them.

The horse felt fast beneath him despite the rain and moved with the same urgency its rider felt. He would not be deterred. If he had to stop the wedding at the altar, then he will do so. He cared not for dowries or money and properties and his family was wealthy enough for both of them. All he cared about was her.

It wasn’t long before he saw carriage lamps up ahead and he knew that it was Y/N. The carriage was moving at a languid pace, no doubt the driver was worried about a potential accident caused by the torrential downpour.

It only served to spur Benedict on.

“Stop!” Benedict yelled at the carriage.

It was as if God Himself was on his side. By some miracle, the driver heard him over the loud din of the rainfall. Benedict kicked at his heels as the carriage slowed, letting his horse ride just a little bit further than the four horses that pulled the carriage.

“Master Bridgerton,” The driver said, his eyes wide in surprise but Benedict paid him no mind. He dismounted from his horse before circling towards the door of the carriage. And then he knocked that secret knock they shared as children.

Knock. Knock-knock. Knock.

“Go away, Benedict.” Her voice was muffled through the door. The window’s curtain was drawn but he could see her vague silhouette as well as the silhouette of her maid.

“You do not have to say anything. You do not even have to answer me. But I implore you to listen.”

When Y/N didn’t say anything further, he continued.

“I wish to marry you,” Benedict said, his voice strong despite his pounding heart. For once in his life, he spoke to Y/N from his heart, let the words drip from his tongue like honey. He didn’t care that they had an audience, that Anthony was approaching from his own horse, that Y/N’s maid was in the carriage with her and that her driver was looking at him as though he’d grown two heads. Right now, all he saw was her. “Do you understand me, Y/N? I wish to marry you. I care not for your dowry or your money, I care only for you. If you wish to never look at me again, say so at once and I shall depart and I will never share in your presence until the day I pass from this world. I will endure the pain and the heartbreak because I love you and I wish only for your happiness. You need only tell me that you do not feel the same for me.

“But if you find that you cannot live without me the way I cannot live without you, tell me so. Let us end our own miseries and be happy. You, who deserve happiness more than anyone else in this earth.”

Despite the loud din of the rain, Benedict’s world grew silent, focused. His attention was on the carriage and the carriage alone. He knew that if Y/N told him to leave, he would do so without a moment’s hesitation. He will ride on his horse and turn his back away from her and he will never see her again.

But then, the knob turned slowly then all at once. The carriage door opened so fast, Benedict barely had time to jump out of the way before the door could hit him.

Y/N’s face was illuminated by the carriage’s lamps. She was still wet, wearing the same simple dress snd frock she had been wearing, having left Aubrey Hall in such a rush that a puddle had pooled at her feet, one that her lady’s maid desperately tried to wipe away.

But neither of them cared about that right now. An asteroid could crash from the heavens and obliterate the earth but their dust would stay in an embrace for the rest of eternity if they could.

She made her way out of the carriage, ignoring her maid’s protestations and making her way in front of Benedict. Whatever parts of her body that dried by her time in the carriage was immediately soaked by the rain once again.

She looked up at him, her eyes almost twinkling.

Venus on Earth would be the name of the next painting. Of that, Benedict was certain.

“I love you too,” Y/N whispered before grabbing his lapel and pulling him down to a kiss.

In front of all these witnesses no less!

Y/N’s lady’s maid gasped in surprise while the carriage driver and Anthony averted their eyes but Benedict didn’t care. He leaned into the kiss, relishing the taste of her. She tasted like rain, like misty mornings and the sweetness of youth. And their kiss was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. He’s kissed plenty of girls before but nothing and no one would ever compare to Y/N.

And when they pulled away, Y/N’s grin could only be described as incandescent.

“Now you two truly must marry,” Anthony said but there was no displeasure in his voice, only keen triumph, “lest Y/N’s father wants his daughter’s reputation in tatters. I will write to him tomorrow. Tonight I will write to the Archbishop of Canterbury for a special license and you two can wed before the week is out.”

“Thank you, brother,” Benedict said, finally feeling able to breathe.

He looked at Y/N, saw the triumph in her eyes. Y/N was one of the smartest people Benedict knew and though she knew kissing him would bring scandal nipping her heels, it would also force her father’s hand. The Duke of Albany wouldn’t want to marry Y/N if her reputation had been compromised.

It was no matter. To Benedict she was perfection and he wouldn’t have her any other way, tattered reputation or no.

“You are a bloody idiot, Benedict Bridgerton,” Y/N said but there was no malice in her voice. Just pure sprightly joy. “It took you this long to realize you loved me?”

He grinned, the kind of grin a man has when he knew his place in the world and his was beside her. “In truth, I fell in love with your fire long ago. Cowardice just seized me every time I felt the urge to tell you my feelings. But I do well and truly love you.”

“I love you, too.”

VIII. In their moments alone

Knock. Knock-knock. Knock.

Y/N’s door opened quickly, a strained smile on her face as she ushered Benedict in. Propriety dictated that their actions could only be deemed scandalous but Benedict didn’t care. He was marrying her tomorrow anyway. There was nothing and no one that could stop them.

It had been two days since the carriage incident and Y/N’s father had arrived on horseback to Aubrey Hall as soon as he’d received the missive.

“I have promised you to the Duke of Albany!” Her father had roared as soon as he managed to push his way through the butler, storming towards the sitting room where the Bridgerton family was having tea. Violet had the younger children ushered away from the confrontation, leaving only Y/N, Benedict, Anthony, and Colin.

“Who is older than even you, Father.” Y/N had said, the picture of serenity and calm. She was sitting on the chair closest to the window, the sun’s glow settling against her skin. She looked sublime.

Ethereal Grace would be a befitting title for this painting.

“He is a Duke and 18th in line to inherit the British Crown! He is being sent to the colonies to govern. With his money, you will live a life even better than I could have ever provided for you as a baron!”

“I care not for his money, Father,” her voice had some heat to it now, “You sold me. Like some brood mare whose only purpose is to breed and pay off your debts!”

“I did not!” He sputtered. But shame coated him, his eyes nervously looking at the Bridgertons. While women in society were often betrothed without their consent, notions of selling were generally frowned upon. If word ever got out that Y/N’s father married her off for money, he would be ostracized by society. Even worse, if such word ever reached the King or Queen, he could be stripped of his peerage, becoming even more destitute than before.

“I will be wed tomorrow to Benedict,” Y/N’s voice was hard now, all conviction and fire, “You cannot stop us. Anthony has acquired the special license and the Archbishop of Canterbury himself has agreed to marry us as a favor to Violet. You have come in vain.”

At that, Y/N’s father’s face turned thunderous. He took a menacing step towards her, one that had Benedict standing at attention, turning him into a protective shield. Her father eyed him distastefully and Benedict returned his venom.

“You are making a terrible mistake. She has no dowry,” Her father hissed at him. “She has nothing.”

“She has me,” Benedict replied, his voice calm despite the rage simmering beneath his skin. If Y/N, despite all the pain and heartbreak wrought by this man, could continue to remain calm, then he shall do the same. “That is enough. She is enough.”

This time it was Anthony who spoke, his voice as hard as steel. “You will find, sir, that we care not for Y/N’s dowry, only of her happiness. Perhaps it is time you depart, before you do something you will regret. Colin, get the door.”

Y/N’s father’s fists turned white but just as Benedict thought he would swing, he turned and walked away.

But before he could cross the threshold, Y/N called out to him, “Our wedding will be at noon tomorrow, Father. If you and mother would like to bear witness, it would bring me great joy.”

But Y/N’s father simply continued walking.

It had broken Y/N’s heart, which is why Benedict came to her room that evening.

He pulled her close, letting her sob for the first time since seeing her father. He knew that tomorrow will be the happiest day of their lives but for now, for tonight, Y/N was allowed to grieve.

“I love you. I have never been prouder of you than when you stood up to your father,” Benedict said, tucking her head beneath his chin and pressing a chaste kiss on her head. “Everything will be alright, you’ll see.”

“Do you mind staying with me tonight?” Y/N asked with a sniffle, her voice hopeful.

Any other time, the word yes would have fallen from his lips like the water of a fountain. But if there was ever a time for Benedict to try and make her feel better, it was now. So rather than a simple yes, different words flew from his lips, teasing and accompanied with an affronted gasp b“Ms. Y/L/N, do you mean to compromise me? I am a gentleman! Unhand me, at once, you cur!”

Y/N gave him that look, the same look she always gave him when they were children and she knew Benedict was trying his best to cheer him up but, nevertheless, Y/N’s once somber expression lifted into her own mocking look of surprise as she wiped away her tears. “I will have you know, Mr. Bridgerton, that I am a lady! Your insinuations are greatly unfounded. Leave my room at once before you leave me with a sordid reputation.”

But Benedict did not leave. Instead, he took her hand and pulled her towards the bed, letting her body mould against his like he was a sculptor and she was wet clay.

“My mother and father kept one bedroom, did you know that?” Benedict said as Y/N settled against him. He let his fingers roam, letting it comb through her hair before journeying down her neck, down her arms before resting on her hand.

“Oh?”

It was unusual for members of the aristocracy to like their spouses let alone love them as most marriages were arranged based on factors such as dowries and wealth. Spouses tended to keep separate bedrooms, choosing to spend an evening with the other only if there was a need to but Benedict’s parents were a true love match. They stayed in one bedroom until the day his father died and even then, his mother refused to leave. Better a love lost than a love never found were words Violet often used as an explanation.

“Is that something you’d like for us?” Y/N asked, peering up at him through her lashes. “A single bedroom?”

“I intend to stay with you tonight and every night after we are married. It would be quite a challenge to do so in separate beds.”

“Alright then,” she said with a giggle, “a single bedroom it is.”

“What about you? Any requests for our future home?”

“A sunroom would be quite nice. With many shelves filled with books that I can read. The light would be heavenly and you could paint while I read. It would be beautiful to have tea there rather than have a sitting room.“

“Your wish is my command, Y/N, light of my life.”

“Oh and, several bedrooms. I think I’d like to return the favor and host the Bridgertons every summer. And several more rooms for our future children, whenever we are ready to have them.”

“Of course,” Benedict said with a nod and smile.

“And a garden. Large and beautiful. Full of flowers of all shapes and sizes.”

“We will fill it with all of your favorites.”

She paused and then she frowned. “What if my father was right and we are making a terrible mistake?”

He squeezed her tightly, letting his enveloping his fingers around Y/N’s hands. “Then we will make this mistake together and we shall have no regrets. I cannot see the future, my love, but I greatly remember our past. I know that whatever troubles may find us, we will face it together and so long as we are together, we can face anything.”

He watched her brow smoothened as another smile entered her sweet face.

“Now, what else would you like for our future home, Mrs. Bridgerton?”

And as they planned their future home, their future lives, Benedict couldn’t help but think just how lucky he was in that moment they were alone. Perhaps he was being too idealistic. He had lived a life of splendor most people could only wish for, with no real adversaries besides the problem he’d encountered with his love life. Perhaps saying that they could face anything together only proved to tempt destiny into hurdling them towards trouble. But he did mean every word he said. He could face anything, be anything so long as Y/N was by his side. Y/N, who would always help him look past the darkness and see the light. Because that was what she was. The light of his life. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

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coveredinsweetpea · 9 months

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A/n: this is super random but I'm cleaning out my drafts folder and I figured since I don't even remember what was supposed to happen next, I might as well post it. Maybe it inspires someone to write a second part? 🥴🥴 Summary: Nancy gives you and Eddie a nasty dare, and as if doing that in front of everybody at the party wasn't bad enough, Jason decides to be a complete asshole. Good thing Eddie won't allow that 1.3k Warnings: this isn't smut but it does mimic or at least mention aspects such as oral (m receiving), humiliation, and degradation. also one watersports comment. pls 18+

The room went absolutely silent as soon as the dare reached everyone's ears. It was still early, no one was drunk yet, some weren't even tipsy, yet the words rolled off Nancy's lips as if she had something to win off of your humiliation.

"You know, right? That if you don't want to do it, you don't have to?" Steve jumped to clarify as the shock on your face refused to wear off.

You blinked and swallowed and then your eyebrows flew up for half a second as you shook your head. "It's really not that big of a deal" you smiled and turned to look at Eddie. "Right?"

"Right" he nodded, his grin only widening as he looked you up and down.

While the rest of your friends kept on staring, Nancy and Jonathan, on the little armchair that they shared, furiously whispered between themselves.

"Well" you took a deep breath and slapped Eddie's knee. "What are we waiting for?"

"I'll.. go grab the beer then" he said.

As he got up and rounded the couch on his way to the minifridge in the corner of the basement, you stood up too, and fixed your skirt as you waited for him to return.

The expressions of shock on your friends' faces turned into pure excitement as Eddie grabbed your hand and led you to the nearest wall.

"Get on your knees, sweetheart" he commanded and against the violent pit on your stomach, you did just that.

"Think she can swallow it all?" one of the girls laughed, making the others cheer like a pack of football jocks who celebrated a victory that was already theirs.

But they didn't get to you, at least not visibly. Your heart was beating rapidly all the way up in your throat and your shaky palms, wet and cold, gripped Eddie's jeans as you looked up at him.

"You good, sweetheart?" he mouthed softly.

His hand, warm and dry, cupped your cheek and he rubbed his thumb across your bottom lip as you nodded.

"You sure?"

You nodded again.

"Ok, then" Eddie smiled. He moved the beer from his left hand to the right, and propped the top of the bottle against his handcuffs shaped belt buckle. Getting a better grip on the neck of the bottle, Eddie twisted it against the metal, having the top fly off with a quick and satisfying click.

Seeing the surprise on your face, Eddie shrugged proudly. "You didn't really think I bought this belt just because it looked cool, did you?"

"That was my mistake" you confessed with a giggle before your attention was grabbed by Jason and two of his friends as they walked over and squatted down by your side, all but bursting with enthusiasm.

"What?" one of them raised their hands in defense and looked back and forth between you and Eddie. "We wanted a better view"

Eddie grabbed your chin so you'd face him and sent you a knowing look. It didn't take a genius to know just how uncomfortable the situation could've been for you, and he wanted to make sure you were alright.

"It's ok" you said and looked at them, "If you guys aren't getting any action, you might as well watch others"

"Ha-ha very funny" one of them snapped, but against their frustrated reaction, the others laughed out loud. Eddie did too.

"Come on, you two!" Nancy giggled, "Stop wasting time, others want to play too"

"Fine, fine" you sighed and looked back up at Eddie, "Come on"

He waited for you to get into position, on your knees with your ass against the wall and your back arched as you looked up at him. He didn't have to tell you to do it - you opened your mouth on your own, and leaned into his hold when he grabbed your chin to keep you in place.

"Bottoms up" Eddie cheered and brought the bottle up to your lips.

The picture was perfect and it had everyone holering in no time. You knew what it all looked like and for some weird and unknown reason, it didn't bother you one bit. The bottom of the bottle was pressed against Eddie’s crotch as beer flowed out of it and into your open and eager mouth.

It was coming down too fast and too much at once, and despite swallowing as much as you could, beer still escaped down your chin, over Eddie's hand and onto your knees and the carpet. But he wasn't slowing down, wasn't tilting the bottle so that less flowed out, he just let you struggle and, judging by the look on his face, enjoyed every second of it.

By the time the bottle was half empty, you were already finding it hard to keep going. Your hands closed in on their hold against Eddie’s thighs, your nails sinking into his jeans and then into his flesh, as you looked up at him, eyebrows furrowed in a silent plea for him to slow down.

But he knew better than to do that. So instead of letting you take a break, he tightened his hold against your jaw and pushed you back, tilting your head even further. The bottle at this point was almost completely upside down, the beer overflowing your mouth.

Panic set in, until you realized it was all in your favor. The alcohol was coming down so fast that it was physically impossible to keep up, making almost all of it spill onto the floor.

No one really cared about that detail, they were all in awe of what you just did, screaming and howling all kinds of dumb and immature phrases of praise as soon as you were done.

Once the last drop of beer rolled onto the floor, Eddie threw the bottle aside and grabbed both your hands to help you up.

"Quite impressive, Y/n" Jason chuckled with a disgusting tone in his voice as Eddie wipped the dust off your knees. "I must say, it does look like you know what you are doing. Got experience, beautiful? I doubt this was you first time drinking straight from the-"

You barely got a chance to register his words before Eddie turned around and lounged at Jason. Thankfully, he didn't go for a hit, didn't want to ruin the night by sending someone to the hospital, but instead, slammed him hard against the wall, and pulled out his famous pocket knife.

Steve and Jonathan jumped up instantly too, stopping Jason's friends from interfering as you rushed over to Eddie.

"Jesus, Eddie, it's ok! Let him go!"

But he didn't listen, and continued to face Jason. "If the next words that come of your mouth aren't an honest fucking apology, I'll slam your face into the toilet and shove this knife up your ass"

"Eddie!!"

Jason, probably in need of a new pair of underwear, shook his head and struggled to keep the tears from rolling down his face as he muttered out his words. "Listen, man. I'm sorry, I-"

"Not to me, you idiot!" Eddie scoffed and slammed Jason into the wall again. "You're gonna apologize to Y/n."

After choking back a sob, he looked in your direction. "Y/n, I'm sorry, I- I didn't mean, it was stupid, ok? I thought it would be funny, I didn't think- I'm sorry, ok? I really am, I won't- I won't say shit like that again, ok? Can you- can you like... forgive me? Please?"

"Yes.." you said softly and got ready to peel Eddie off of him. "It's ok, thanks for apologizing"

Reluctantly, Eddie let him go and wrapped an arm around you as Jason and his two friends furiously gathered their stuff and rushed out of the basement.

"Yeah, I'm sorry about all of this" you mumbled as soon as you realized the room was left completely silent.

"No one liked them anyway" Steve laughed and the others all agreed. Somehow, the mood wasn't ruined, and before you even got a chance to sit down, other dares were already being thrown around.

"Hey, you OK?" Eddie asked, softly enough only so that you'd hear.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. You didn't have to scar him for life, but thanks"

"I'll admit, I may have crossed the line a bit, but this way, at least we know he won't get any ideas to say shit like that to you again"

"Thanks" you said and shook your head, giggling softly, "I was gonna hug you but my shirt is all wet"

"Here" Eddie said.

He took his leather jacket off, along with his vest, and then pulled his shirt over his head before you even managed to get a word in. "Go get changed and put this on" he said handing you the Hellfire shirt, "It's my fault yours is all soaked"

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie x reader #eddie muson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine

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