#if it has been stated that he’s younger feel free to call me an idiot

[quibbs126]

Imagine if one day it’s revealed that Crunchy Chip is the oldest out of him, Caramel Arrow and Dark Choco. I mean as far as I’m aware, his age hasn’t really come up anywhere

I feel like so many people headcanon him as the youngest, it’d be funny if that ended up being the complete opposite of the truth

[munson-blurbs]

How do you think Eddie would react to a fwb reader who uses sex as a distraction from their feelings?? Like, they’ve been having a bad week an their mental state isn’t great but heyyy there’s sex. Reader doesn’t really care about the pleasure part of sex just the distraction. Worried Eddie would feel a little used ngl :P

((Dancy dances away nervously))

I know you started this with "do you think" but my brain said WRITE A BLURB so here we are. Also shoutout @corroded-hellfire for helping me make it cute without being cliche.

Warnings: mentions of smut (18+ only, minors DNI), friends with benefits, angst/yearning, idiots in love, made it fluffy because I'm a sap

WC: 747

--

You hadn’t thought anything of it the night he’d called you “baby.” He was deep within you, melding his body with yours. Lost in the moment.

Or the night he’d mumbled, “your pussy was made for me” while slamming into you from behind. It was just dirty talk; nothing more and nothing less. 

Maybe you should have been tipped off when he’d growled, “mine,” his voice barely above a whisper as he pressed soft kisses below your earlobe. You’d figured the word, like the sex, was meaningless. 

But tonight’s comment stops you in your tracks. Your legs are wobbling beneath you, exhausted from riding him, as you step back into your pants. 

“Do you wanna, like, cuddle for a sec?”

A giggle escapes from your lips, swollen and kiss-bitten. He’s joking; he has to be. The two of you have a perfectly choreographed routine: you have a bad day, you call Eddie, you fuck, and then you leave. And his latest suggestion would definitely interfere with step four. 

When your eyes meet his, you realize that he’s serious. Hurt and confusion at your laughter crease his brows, and he tugs the sheet up a bit higher. 

“Sorry, I, um…” He shakes his head and rubs his face. “Never mind. You probably have to go anyway.”

You’re in no hurry to return home, fresh off of yet another argument with your roommate. That’s why you’d come over to Eddie’s trailer in the first place. And it isn’t as though you’d never thought about being in his strong, tattooed arms. The way he’d hold you flush against him, your cheek on his chest, the sound of his heartbeat in your ear. It’s something you’d once wanted—craved, even—but you couldn’t let vulnerability infiltrate you like that again. 

You spent high school watching him pine over the cheerleaders. He unwittingly broke your heart over and over with each woman he hooked up with at the Hideout, overlooking you despite your presence at every show. Being friends with benefits is risky enough, and post-sex snuggling will send you teetering over the edge back into the rocky terrain of unrequited love. 

And so you lean into humor as you shrug on your shirt. “I don’t think this friends-with-benefits arrangement includes cuddling.” Keeping your tone light and even, restraining every desire to crawl into bed with him. 

“Right, yeah.” He sighs and offers a sad half-smile. “It’s just…I was thinking—”

“That’s dangerous.”

He flips you off and continues. “I was thinking that maybe we could be more than that. Y’know, maybe we could have sex when you’re happy, too.” 

“I am happy when we have sex,” you counter.

Eddie shakes his head again. “I’m talking about before we do it.” He gnaws on his thumbnail. “It feels like you only want me when you have a bad day. A-And I’m glad I can be here for you and stuff, but sometimes I wonder if I’m a friend or just a good lay.”

You try to look at him when you speak, but he keeps his gaze trained on the ground. “Eddie,” you start, taking a seat next to him. His chest is slick with sweat, the soft hairs matted down. “Eddie, I had the biggest, dumbest crush on you when we were younger. And knowing I couldn’t have you tore me apart.” You let your hand rest on his. “I can’t risk having you and then losing you.”

“Losing me?” Eddie laughs softly and his free palm comes up to cup your cheek. “Look at me. Where am I going?”

“You could find someone new, someone better, someone who—”

He cuts you off with a searing kiss, remnants of your arousal still tinging his lips and tongue. “There’s no one better,” he murmurs. “You see me answering the door at two in the morning for anyone else? Think I’d miss out on precious sleep for them?” 

One arm hooks around you back and pulls you in until you assume the little spoon position. Nimble fingers undo the button of your jeans, slowly and patiently, a stark contrast to the way he’d practically torn the denim removing them earlier. 

“‘S that comfier?” He asks through a yawn.

“Mhm.” And it is. It’s the most relaxed you’ve been in a while, at least without him inside you. 

His curls tickle the back of your neck as he nuzzles into you. He staves off sleep long enough to speak one last time. 

“I’m glad you’re staying, baby.”

--

[burnthoneydrops]

What Time Has Done (Part XIII) Benedict Bridgerton x Original Character Series

Synopsis: Fed up with Emmeline's disappearance, Benedict takes finding out the truth into his own hands

Requested: no

Warnings: none

Word Count: 2601

A/N: Hi! Here's the next part of What Time Has Done! Let me know what you think and if you're enjoying it or not haha

Emmeline

The words on the newest Whistledown sheet shake on the page as my hands will not cease their movement. I scan the words over and over again to make sure I am reading her correctly, and every time my heart drops more and more. How on earth did she know? I suppose I should have expected it to come out eventually but I was holding out some hope that the mysterious woman would have been deaf ears for the news to fall on. What an idiot am I. There is frantic knocking at my door and answering it is the last thing I wish to do, but depending on who the person on the other side is, they might have half a mind to barge in anyway. 

“Come in!” I call, noticing how my voice trembles as I do so. 

“Em,” the person sighs. It is Graham. I turn to him and my eyes cannot hold back the well of tears anymore. He rushes to my side and I drop the Whistledown pamphlet, causing a light whooshing sound as it reaches the carpeted floor. His arms are around me in a matter of seconds, and I throw my hands over his shoulders as another wave of tears force their way out. 

“What are we to do?” I ask in between recovery breaths. 

“I do not know, sister, but that is not for you to be worrying about right now,” Graham tries, but the insecurity in his tone does nothing to aid my current state. 

“I suppose I should have known our lie was not going to last forever,” I shudder, sitting down on the bed. 

“Now now, it is not your fault-”

“Will everyone stop telling me that! First Papa, then Andrew, now you! Just because you say something is so, does not mean it does not feel like it. You all tell me this ordeal is not my fault and yet I am the one who insisted on going to University. I am the one who caused this large amount of bills! It is! It is my fault!” I cry, putting my head in my hands once I am finished. 

Graham is stunned, not sure what to say for a moment before he sits down next to me, choosing to say nothing at all. Instead, he places a comforting hand on my back and allows me the space to let my frustration out. 

Benedict

“Has Benedict seen this?” Eloise asks Colin, the latest copy of Whistledown in hand. 

“I do not believe so, why?” Colin asks. Eloise shoves the gossip sheet in Colin’s hands. “Oh, dear Lord,” Colin sighs as he reads the page, realising what has his younger sister so worried. 

“Dear Lord indeed,” Eloise nods, grabbing the copy back and reading over it again. “Is this really why her entire family has been hiding away?” Colin refrains from speaking, but the look on his face shows that he knows something. “What? What is it?” Eloise looks him in the eyes, searching for an answer. “You know something! Tell me what it is!”

“Not so loud!” Colin grabs Eloise’s arm and drags her out to the hallway. “The gossip sheet is unfortunately true,” he looks down at it before looking back at Eloise. 

“You knew? For how long?” Eloise questions. 

“Not long, but Anthony figured it out before I did”.

“Brother will not be happy when he finds out about this,” Eloise says worriedly. 

“Finds out about what?” Benedict, in his perfect timing, had emerged from another room and now stands behind the pair. 

“Nothing!” Eloise proclaims as she turns around to hide the sheet behind her back and face Benedict. 

“What have you got?” Benedict gives her a look with a tilt of his head and a small smile. He reaches behind her to grab it, but she moves her hands above her head. As if she forgot for a second that Benedict is in fact taller than her, she leaves him enough space to grab it with his free hand and he laughs. As he begins to read, Colin and Eloise share a worried glance. 

He looks up at the two of them with a hardened expression. “Is this true?” Neither of them respond, which is enough of an answer for him. 

“Did either of you know about this?” Benedict looks between the two of them quickly, hoping one of them will answer him. “Say something!” he cries when neither of them do. 

“What is all this noise about?” Lady Bridgerton enters the hallway from the drawing room. 

“Mama, did you know about this?” Benedict throws up the gossip column. 

“What does it say dearest?” Lady Bridgerton grabs the sheet from him, leaving the three children in front of her to wait anxiously as she glances over the page. “Oh no,” she frowns, gathering the reason for the upset. “I can guarantee you I knew nothing about this”.

“I knew,” Colin grabs everyone’s attention, stepping forward with a guilty look on his face. 

“You knew? And you did not tell me?” 

“Anthony didn’t think it wise, brother, truly I-” “Anthony knew as well?!”

“We were waiting until we could figure out a good time to tell you!” 

Benedict does not respond, instead choosing to march down the hallway to the main stairs, running down those as he calls for a carriage. The horsemen cannot move fast enough as Benedict’s foot taps incessantly on the pavement outside of the Bridgerton residence. His mind races with a million questions about the predicament ahead of him, but he is more acutely hoping that Emmeline is alright. It does not miss him that a drink might help the anxieties of the current moment, but he thinks better of it. The carriage ride is all too long and he wonders if it would have been faster for him to arrive on foot. Benedict pounds on the door of the Castillon family, hoping for the love of God that someone will answer him. 

A butler answers the door and Benedict shoves in through the door and stands to face him on the other side. “Please, tell me where I may find Miss Castillon,” he sighs. 

“I’m afraid she is unavailable at the minute,” the butler looks at him with a hard expression. 

“Tell her it is urgent, please!” he begs. The butler does not budge, and Benedict groans in frustration. “Fine! I’ll find her myself. Miss Castillon!” He calls as he starts to wander through the house. 

Emmeline 

“Miss Castillon!” I hear Benedict calling from somewhere in the house. It couldn’t be. “Miss Castillon!” he calls again. 

“I’ll tell him to leave,” Graham stands up. 

“No, no,” I stop him. 

“What would you like me to do, sister?” 

I pause. “I do not know,” I frown, sitting back down on the bed. 

“Miss Castillon please!” Benedict calls again, his voice closer this time though. 

“I will speak to him, you stay here,” Graham turns out the door before I can even attempt to stop him again. There are hushed voices down the hall and I start to pace, wondering what they are discussing without me. After a few moments, a knock resonates from the other side of my door. 

“Sister?” Graham calls before opening the door and walking back over to me. “I believe you should talk to him”. 

“I do not know what to say, Graham”.

“Then tell him the truth,” he looks at me, grabbing my hands in his and giving me a small smile. 

“I cannot,” I frown, shaking my head. 

“You can,” he nods. 

I stay silent for a few moments before letting go of Graham’s hands. He tells me he’ll be right here, waiting in case I need anything, and I nod, walking toward the door. Benedict stands in the hallway and I turn to face him as I step out of the doorway. He catches my eye and his brows furrow in worry, but there is some sense of relief present as well. I do not know what to say, and it feels like we stare at each other for eternity, neither of us sure how to proceed. 

“Miss Castillon-”

“Emmeline, please. If you are to try and comfort me, I do not need the formalities,” I laugh lightly, trying not to look directly at him. 

“Alright, Emmeline. If I could just have a moment of your time. I just want to talk to you”. 

“As you wish”.

“Is Lady Whistledown writing the truth?” Benedict asks, his brows furrowing in concern. 

I pause for a moment, not entirely sure how honest I want to be at this moment. Sharing all this information with him feels like an overstepping of boundaries; that which we have hardly set in the first place. Besides a few meetings prior, what had Benedict and I really shared? Something in the way he is looking at me persuades me to tell the truth, and I nod. 

“Why did you not tell me?”

“And make public my family’s shame?” I question. 

“Surely it would have been better than this!” 

“I did not know that this was going to happen. I do not even know who thinks I am Lady Whistledown to begin with!” I pause, and after a few seconds, continue with, “But yes, my family is currently in a crisis because I decided three years ago that it was a necessity that I go to University which would not have been allowed given my sex but my father had connections and managed to make a deal. He had assured us that those debts had been paid off but evidently they were not and I suppose that the people on the other end had grown tired of waiting for their repayment so they started coming after my father with more urgency”. Benedict looks greatly confused. 

“And that is why you went into hiding?” 

“Mama did not want anything to become obvious after the news had been revealed within

the family, so she thought it best for us all to hide and let the information digest in private so as to not have one of us reveal something to an uncaring member of the ton”. 

“I see,” he pauses, looking as though I had thrown a few stones at him. I suppose with the amount of information I had just relayed to him, it might have been a few stones equivalent. “I could have helped you, Emmeline. I still can-” 

“I do not need your pity Benedict. If your pity is to be disguised as comfort than you may-” 

“Do you truly think so little of me?” This causes me to stop. 

“I beg your pardon?” 

“Do you think I travelled unannounced, burst into your house, worried sick about you, simply because I pity you?” 

“You had not explicitly given me a reason not to assume as such,” I state, but I can feel the foundation of my own argument cracking as I do so. 

“You are a truly infuriating woman, you know that, yes?” 

“However could you mean?” I question, crossing my arms over my chest. 

“I did all these things, went out of my way to talk with you at stuffy dances and soirees because I care for you Emmeline. And due to my siblings’ input I have learned that I was not being subtle whatsoever about it so surely you must have noticed it as well?” 

I am not sure how to respond. Is caring different from loving a person? I do not know how one differentiates the two, especially not Benedict, but he seems sincere in his tone and I cannot help but want to believe him. I can hear Graham in my head telling me not to think too long about it, but I cannot bring myself to formulate and answer worthy enough. 

“A friend of mine told me that one is allowed to follow their inspiration, and so here I am. Please, Emmeline, say something”. 

“Perhaps I have been blinded by my own attempts at subtlety to notice that my thoughts and feelings may have been reciprocated,” I finally respond, hoping the message translates how I intended. 

“Thankfully that was not subtle at all,” Benedict says, almost laughing. “This situation will be resolved Emmeline, you have my word”. 

“And how exactly do you plan to do that?” 

“I am not certain yet, but I am sure I can conjure something up. Eight minds must be better than one, yes?” He says, referencing his siblings as well. 

“I imagine they would, yes,” I say with a smile, “but even then, it is not your-” 

“You promised to heed my every word, did you not?” 

“I’m sorry?” “That day in the park, you promised to heed my every word. So do just that and believe that I will see to it that this is all sorted”. 

I fight the urge to tell him once again that I do not need someone to fix my problem for me, but timing does most of the fighting for me, as my mother ascends the stairs. She looks between Benedict, myself, and then back at Benedict before outwardly questioning his presence. He mentions something about how he was just leaving and shoots me a wink as he makes his way down the stairs and back out to his carriage. Graham appears from my doorway, a smile on his face. I am to assume he heard most of the conversation as he looks quite pleased with himself.

“Was there a reason Benedict Bridgerton was just in our hallway unannounced?” Mama questions, slightly angry. 

“He was merely on his way out after our discussion, Mama,” Graham covers, looking at me to get me to nod in agreement. I do so hastily. 

“Indeed, I simply ran into him on my way from the garden”. 

“And why, may I ask, were you coming out of Emmeline’s room?” Mama turns to Graham. 

“Benedict had offered to teach him a thing or two about art and I had mentioned to Graham that I had some copies of landscapes in France he could use for reference,” I cover this time, sending Graham the nodding message. 

“You two know the current rules regarding house guests. If it weren’t for the circumstances I would pay it no mind, but I suppose I am grateful it was a Bridgerton at our house. It could have been a far worse member of the ton”. 

“We promise, Mama, it shan’t happen again,” Graham replies. 

“For your sakes, I’d hope not,” she says as she begins walking away. 

“I take it that went well,” Graham walks closer to me. 

“Our conversation with Mama? It could have gone worse I suppose,” I shrug, watching Mama walk further away. 

“No, the conversation she interrupted”. 

“As if you did not overhear the entire thing,” I give him a suspicious look. 

“I did not! Maybe…just a bit of it,” Graham puts his hands up in defence. 

“Graham, we are not necessarily a family of good liars.”

“Quite right, Sister”. 

I look back in the direction of the staircase and replay my conversation with Benedict in my mind. Never had I imagined someone being so forthright about their feelings, though I suppose artists are known to wear their hearts on their sleeves. The thought gives me butterflies, yet they are soon sinking as I remember the context that brought on the conversation in the first place. How he can be so confident in his ability to turn our situation around is beyond me, but perhaps we shall have to wait and see.