#more howard’s content
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
#more howard’s content#i love this place sm#photography#vintage#my photo#my photos#digital camera#books#bookstore#used books#old building#walls#old door#abandoned
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
Last of a dying breed.
#my art#cowboycrypt#the ghoul#fallout#fallout on prime#cooper howard#this flopped on twt so as long as I get more than 2 likes I will be content
61 notes
·
View notes
Text
hi i made them cockette cowboys i hope u liek :3
#i randomly found this pic and just thought “they need bows”#next i’m gonna give them matching tiaras or something bc they def fight over the passenger princess seat#anyways follow for more banger content!!!!!#muse band#silly billy#matt bellamy#dom howard
14 notes
·
View notes
Text
#jepha howard#the used#my gif#essay in tags ->#i might still be posting about the used on here if i ever Have Content just coz ive been rly attached to them for a while now#and i like making my gifs...#that said im not gonna post about bert at Least for the time being. the others are fair game to me tho#the way i look at it#i believe quinn and i wish only the best for him. i still like the band. i think the whole situation is a lot more complicated than we know#i think all these ideas can coexist#we dont rly know anyone elses involvement in it anyways so... in my mind its okay. youll have to pry jepha from my cold dead hands i fear#who knows though i may also just make one million thursday posts As Usual
11 notes
·
View notes
Photo
Holiday Hookah screencap redraw. It’s a totally normal way to look at your coworker.
#here's hoping the valentines episode blesses us with more work wives content!#abbott elementary#melissa schemmenti#barbara howard#melissa x barbara#work wives#otp: did you shake someone down for me?#i made a thing#abbott elementary fanart#ae fanart#my ae stuff
62 notes
·
View notes
Text
"It is difficult to argue that [Edward IV] was wrong in what he did. His advancement of [Richard of Gloucester] can be criticized only by those who believe that the only good nobleman is an impotent nobleman. Medieval kings did not think in these terms. Gloucester’s power was valuable because it ensured royal control of a significant and troublesome part of the country. Nor can Edward be blamed for not foreseeing the ends to which Gloucester might put his power. The duke had been a loyal upholder of the house of York, a central figure in Edward’s polity*; there was no obvious reason why he should not occupy the same role under Edward V. In this respect, precedent was on Edward’s side. Previous minorities had seen squabbles over the distribution of power, but no young king had ever been deposed. Even royal uncles traditionally drew a line at that, something which explains why Gloucester’s actions seemed so shocking to contemporaries and, perhaps, the reason why he got away with it so easily in the short term.
In the immediate sense, Gloucester must take final responsibility for what happened in 1483. However one explains the motives behind his actions, things happened because he chose that they should: there is nothing in the previous reign which compelled him to act as he did."
-Rosemary Horrox, Richard III: A Study of Service
*Richard was also, yk, Edward's own brother who had been entirely loyal to him during his life. The problem wasn’t that Edward trusted Richard (why wouldn't he?), the problem is that Richard broke that trust in a horrible and unprecedented way to usurp a 12-year-old. Please understand the difference.
#wars of the roses#edward iv#richard iii#edward v#my post#The arguments of Ross and Pollard (et al) are so profoundly unserious and ahistorical#casting an unforeseeable turn of events as a predictable ('structural') one as David Horspool rightly puts it#Ross specifically is entirely dependent on his own horrible view of Elizabeth Woodville and her family as the basis of his analysis#but anyway. as Horrox points out later in the book:#''although earlier events [during Edward's reign] cannot be said to have caused the crisis they did have some bearing in how it developed'#namely Edward's legacy of forfeitures in the 1460s; manipulation of property descents; and fluctuating royal favour.#the most prominent and politically important of all of these were the manipulation of the Mowbray and Howard family fortunes#This is often used to enhance the unserious and ahistorical arguments of historians like Ross and Pollard that Edward doomed his son#But as Horrox points out: Edward's reign did not exist in a vacuum and needs to be analyzed by actual historical context.#from a broader perspective his actions were not especially transgressive as far as English kings were concerned#NO MONARCH (Edward III; Henry VII; etc) died with every single one of their nobles 100% content and supportive#they weren't living in Disney movies and there's no point holding Edward IV to fairytale standards that did not exist.#More importantly Horrox points out that Edward's actions (eg: the Mowbray and Howard cases) need to be put into actual perspective#They were not perceived as problems and did not cause problems during his own reign.#They did not cause problems after he died before Edward V arrived in London.#They only became problems after Richard decided to seize power and deliberately exploited them as bribes for political support#Had Richard decided to support his nephew or work with the Woodvilles - Edward's actions (@ the Mowbrays and Howards) would be irrelevant#(It's also worth pointing out that we don't know WHEN Richard decided to usurp. It if it was a more gradual desire then his depowering#of the Woodvilles by exploiting Mowbray & Howard discontent would not have not affected *Edward V's* ascension or prospects)#ie: the problem isn't that discontent existed with a few specific nobles (that was normal) the problem was how Richard took advantage of it#In theory this sort of thing would have been a potential threat for ANY heir to the throne whether they were a minor or an adult#In itself it's not really unique to Edward and it's silly when historians criticize him and him alone for it. It was more or less standard.#(if anything the fact that he was able to do them so successfully is an indication of his authority)#We come back to Horspool's point: 'Without one overriding factor' - Richard's initiative and actions - 'none of this could have happened.'#which is where this analysis of Horrox's comes in :)
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
if we are blessed with chimney and ravi training new recruits together...
#sami rambles#the chimney content this season is making me feral#and there's nothing more special to me than chimravi#sorry madney#911 show#911 spoilers#911 fox#chimney han#howard han#ravi panikkar#911 speculation#911 spec
34 notes
·
View notes
Text
Is there a reason why I'm having LbGT vibes when it comes to big bang theory?
#big bang theory#leonard hofstadter#sheldon cooper#penny hofstadter#howard wolowitz#bernadette rostenkowski#amy farrah fowler#raj koothrappali#lbgtq#Wish there was more LBGT content
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
Anyway I was thinking today how if Jacob found out how Melissa feels (or how I think she feels) about Barbara he’d be invested like teddie all over again
There’s already barlissa teddie parallels and I’m sure Jacob’s investment would be another one.
[also if I can have more jacob x mel scenes I’d really enjoy it, so imagine them talking about her feelings for barb 🥺]
#abbott elementary#barlissa#work wives#barbara howard#melissa schemmenti#jacob hill#barbara x melissa#i just know that melissa loves barbara#why else does she look at her like that#and jacob’s just a silly little guy#i need more jacob and melissa content#and jacob and barbara#just jacob x work moms
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
I honestly love Steve Rogers/Howard Stark as a pairing- mainly because it has so much potential for drama and angst (my favorite things).
Obviously Tony doesn’t like Steve at first because his dad was so obsessed with finding him that he let it get in the way of his family- what does he do when he realizes that Howard was in love with Steve the whole time? What if Steve can only see Tony as a reminder of Howard, and all that he lost? All that they could have had.
Eventually the tension results in a fight of some sort- lots of yelling, maybe some violence, depending on how you want it to play out. Eventually, though, I’d love it if they come to share an almost like, father-son relationship? Maybe that sounds weird, since I think Tony is biologically ten years older than Steve? I don’t know, its just a thought.
#steve rogers#tony stark#steve rogers x howard stark#steve x howard#angst#i want more content for this ship#avengers#marvel#mcu#fandom#shipping problems
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
Shoutout to better call Saul fans for coming up with the funniest fictional pairing ever
#I do wish there was more solo howard content though 💔#I’m not a shippy person anyway but laloward is so funny that I see the appeal
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
You’re telling me Paramore was in New Zealand yesterday and not one of y’all got photos/videos of Logan???
#paramore#paramore this is why#this is why#this is why tour#paramore this is why tour#hayley williams#taylor york#zac farro#tayley#parafour#logan joel mackenzie#brian robert jones#joey howard#joey mullen#I need more logan content in my life#do better guys
1 note
·
View note
Text
Congrats to the ultimate winner of the Hot & Vintage Movie Men Tournament, Mr. Toshiro Mifune! May he live happily and well where the sun always shines, enjoying the glories of a battle hard fought.
A loving farewell to all of our previous contestants, who are now banished to the shadow realm and all its dark joys and whispered horrors—I hear there's a picnic on the village green today. If you want to remember the fallen heroes, you can find them all beneath the cut.
What happens next? I'll be taking a break of two weeks to rest from this and prep for the Hot & Vintage Ladies Tournament. I'll still be around but only minimally, posting a few last odes to the hot men before transitioning into a little early ladies content, just like I did with this last tournament. The submission form for the Hot & Vintage Ladies tournament will remain up for one more week (closing February 21st), so get your submissions in for that asap! Once the form closes, there will be one more week of break. The first round of the Hot & Vintage Ladies Tournament will be posted on February 29th, as Leap Year Day seems like a fitting allusion to leaping into these ladies' arms.
Thanks for being here! Enjoy the two weeks off, and send me some great propaganda.
In order of the last round they survived—
ROUND ONE HOTTIES:
Richard Burton
Tony Curtis
Red Skelton
Keir Dullea
Jack Lemmon
Kirk Douglas
Marcello Mastroianni
Jean-Pierre Cassel
Robert Wagner
James Garner
James Coburn
Rex Harrison
George Chakiris
Dean Martin
Sean Connery
Tab Hunter
Howard Keel
James Mason
Steve McQueen
George Peppard
Elvis Presley
Rudolph Valentino
Joseph Schildkraut
Ray Milland
Claude Rains
John Wayne
William Holden
Douglas Fairbanks Sr.
Harold Lloyd
Charlie Chaplin
John Gilbert
Ramon Novarro
Slim Thompson
John Barrymore
Edward G. Robinson
William Powell
Leslie Howard
Peter Lawford
Mel Ferrer
Joseph Cotten
Keye Luke
Ivan Mosjoukine
Spencer Tracy
Felix Bressart
Ronald Reagan (here to be dunked on)
Peter Lorre
Bob Hope
Paul Muni
Cornel Wilde
John Garfield
Cantinflas
Henry Fonda
Robert Mitchum
Van Johnson
José Ferrer
Robert Preston
Jack Benny
Fredric March
Gene Autry
Alec Guinness
Fayard Nicholas
Ray Bolger
Orson Welles
Mickey Rooney
Glenn Ford
James Cagney
ROUND TWO SWOONERS:
Dick Van Dyke
James Edwards
Sammy Davis Jr.
Alain Delon
Peter O'Toole
Robert Redford
Charlton Heston
Cesar Romero
Noble Johnson
Lex Barker
David Niven
Robert Earl Jones
Turhan Bey
Bela Lugosi
Donald O'Connor
Carman Newsome
Oscar Micheaux
Benson Fong
Clint Eastwood
Sabu Dastagir
Rex Ingram
Burt Lancaster
Paul Newman
Montgomery Clift
Fred Astaire
Boris Karloff
Gilbert Roland
Peter Cushing
Frank Sinatra
Harold Nicholas
Guy Madison
Danny Kaye
John Carradine
Ricardo Montalbán
Bing Crosby
ROUND THREE SMOKESHOWS:
Marlon Brando
Anthony Perkins
Michael Redgrave
Gary Cooper
Conrad Veidt
Ronald Colman
Rock Hudson
Basil Rathbone
Laurence Olivier
Christopher Plummer
Johnny Weismuller
Clark Gable
Fernando Lamas
Errol Flynn
Tyrone Power
Humphrey Bogart
ROUND 4 STUNGUNS:
James Dean
Cary Grant
Gregory Peck
Sessue Hayakawa
Harry Belafonte
James Stewart
Gene Kelly
Peter Falk
QUARTERFINALIST VOLCANIC TOWERS OF LUST:
Jeremy Brett
Vincent Price
James Shigeta
Buster Keaton
SEMIFINALIST SUPERMEN:
Omar Sharif
Paul Robeson
FINALIST FANTASIES:
Sidney Poitier
Toshiro Mifune
and ok, sure, here's the shadow-bracket-style winner's portrait of Toshiro Mifune.
#hotvintagepoll#hot men finals#a winner crowned!#fuck that old man (requiem)#shadow bracket#toshiro mifune
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
War never changes but canon sure will!
“Fallout TV show retconned New Vegas-“
Stop. Listen to me. Look me in the eyes. “Canon” isn’t real. I’m completely serious. It’s whatever you want it to be. This franchise is rooted in games where you literally choose what ending you want based on your actions. Please, please for the love of god tell me that this whole time some of you have not been deciding that in games with multiple endings there is actually one “real” ending and all the others are “not canon.” If you really want my opinion half the fun of this whole series is that EVERY SEQUENCE OF EVENTS IS EQUALLY “VALID.” It’s time to kill the Todd Howard in your head and realize that literally no one is stopping you from choosing what to believe is part of this series. Incorporate every game, including the ones that never got made and only exist as details on the wiki. Or don’t. Decide that only the first two games and New Vegas are real and pretend 3 & 4 don’t exist. Create a new timeline in your head where EVERYTHING happens BUT Fallout 3 and yet Fallout 4 still fucking happens. Incorporate the fan theories you like and disregard the ones you don’t. Add your headcanons. Just MAKE SHIT UP. It doesn’t fucking matter! And that’s beautiful!!!! War never changes but goddamn canon sure will, but only if you believe!!
#WHAT A LINE LADY RAZIEL TOO TRUE#literally tho#like there has been this shift in fandom where more and more people are clinging to canon#and clinging to the word of the creators and authors for permission and credibility#stop stop stop!!! kill the todd howard in your head indeed!!!#like okay Sam Lake even said regarding the Alan Wake/Control Franchises#this is what I was thinking when I wrote it but this is my canon and you have yours#you may see things that I didnt when i wrote it#nothing i say is anymore canon than what you see#And the irony of quoting a creator's perspective on their work to encourage having your own perspective is not lost on me#but its a great lens to view creation in! please dont give a rat's ass about 'what is and is not canon'#its yours to decide! you have the power as fans of the content!
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
Endgame
Fandom: Bridgerton
Summary: Six years after you were married off to your Father's friend, you enter a period of mourning. As soon as it is societally acceptable, Benedict Bridgerton is in your foyer with a bouquet of flowers, amending a mistake he made all those years ago.
Length: 3.8k
Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader
Content Warnings: Death, mentions of sex work, penetrative sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), orgasm.
a/n: This is part iii to Wildest Dreams & Loml, requested by anon here! This is the final part!
Bridgerton master list (tag list)
Your father stood acrost from you, tears in his eyes, which seemed genuine, though they did leave you confused. He was more devastated by your elderly husband’s death than you were – they had been friends a very many years, even with an age gap between them. It was six years since you were married to Lord Roger Howard, six of the most gruelling years of your life, pretending to care remotely for such a wretched man.
“I apologise for this display” Father wiped his tears from his eyes.
“Fret not, he was your friend after all” You replied nonchalantly, your father never caring enough to pay attention to your words, let alone the tone of your voice. He nodded sadly, blowing his nose in his handkerchief and stuffing it back into the waistcoat pocket.
“Your mother is thrilled at the prospect of you coming home” He asserted.
The shock of his audacity displayed in full force upon your face, “This is my home, I will not be returning to your house in Mayfair. I have an estate to care for until its heir comes of age” You shot back at him, far surer and more confident in your own voice than you had been when he bullied you into a match you did not want.
His weepy eyes filled with exasperation, you were not sure anyone had ever spoken back to him in such a manner, it sure looked as though they hadn’t. He stuttered over jumbled consonants, words unforming as they bowled out of his mouth. Never in your young life had you seen your father so beside himself, so baffled.
“Is there something you wish to say?” You asked brashly.
Stern eyebrows grew rigid over his unpredictable eye line, “How disrespectful! I do not recall raising a child with such an attitude! You will do as your father tells you, and your father demands you return to Mayfair” He almost shouted, the corrosive tone of his voice scared you as a child, even just a few years ago; but he had set you on a journey down Dante’s nine rings of hell. No longer afraid of small men feigning omnipotence in comparison to you, your father was no better nor worse than the husband you had just lost.
Your harsh statuette figure remained still and unblinking, unimpressed by his temper tantrum. Sweat formed on his brow line, rage simmering just below the surface. He was a volcano, ready to erupt in exaggerated self-importance. “It is obvious to me that perhaps you are confused. I was married to Lord Howard; I am Dowager Lady Howard. I do not belong to you, nor am I required to hear this nonsense any longer. I have land, and staff to account for. I will be remaining here. Would you like me to escort you out?” You asked calmly, your heart thumping in your chest, prepared for his next outrageous onslaught.
Father shuffled on the spot, puffed-up and fragile, dancing between continuing this argument, or storming out of the room. With a defeated, heavy exhale, he turned swiftly on the ball of his foot and stomped down the stairs. Staff peered around corners, having heard the yelling, worried for your safety.
Making your way out to the landing, subtly triumphant smile on your face, you watched as your father barged past someone standing in the foyer. You could not believe your eyes, unsure now of whether this was a dream or not. Benedict Bridgerton stood tall in the foyer, a big bunch of flowers in his arms, side eying your father as he passed. He looked just like you remembered, just like you imagined him every day since you last saw him. His eyebrows high, his crowning glory, that cheeky smile adorned on his face. There were small changes, delicious smile lines around his mouth and across his forehead. He looked neat, and very well dressed – you thought perhaps he finally had taken some advice from Anthony. The door slammed violently, and Benedict jumped slightly, pursing his lips together in a look of amusement.
“Mr Bridgerton, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?” You hummed in soft interrogation.
“I have come to offer my condolences” Benedict tried to wipe the smile from his face.
“Alas, it has been six whole months since my husband passed away. Would you not consider these condolences to be quite late?” You retorted audaciously.
“One… might consider my visit late, yes. However, I do believe I am right on time. I would like to point out that it is but seven hours into a societally acceptable visit for a single man to call on a widow” He feigned checking his pocket watch, nearly dropping the bouquet on the floor, beaming at you as you started descending the stairs. Rushing down the stairs with enthusiasm, you threw yourself into his arms, flowers crushed between your bodies as your kiss landed. There was that sense of delirium you had missed so dearly. Your stomach dropped excitedly, your heart skipped a beat, your smile uncontainable as he pulled you into him tighter and tighter.
“Worried I would not come?” He asked between kisses, his eyes joyously lit.
“Not one bit” You groaned as his teeth took your lip, sucking it into his mouth, “Come upstairs”.
Benedict took your hand in his, leading you to the only place he knew well in this house, your bedroom. It was strange feeling this way after so long, so much glee in such a solemn house. You had not a care in the world at this moment, everything was finally right as it should have been.
Shutting the door forcefully, Benedict grasped at your arms and pulled you toward the bed, shifting behind you to undress you. Not a second later, Benedict gripped two sections of material and reefed them apart, tearing your dress from your body, his clamorous grunt igniting something within you. The fabric fell to the ground around you in a pool, embarrassment telling you to turn to Benedict, but his forceful hands stilled you where you were. Bending you forward, you rested your elbows onto the bed, the sound of his breeches unbuttoning behind you made your mouth water, wonderment tensing your mind.
Kneeling behind you, Benedict pressed his finger to your pussy, sliding it in as slowly as possible, coaxing soft moans from your lips. You so greatly wanted to spin around, eager to see what he was up to.
“God you are so wet and ready for me” Benedict commended, slipping that same finger between his lips, sucking the taste of you off it, moaning in unbridled thirst for you. Benedict’s hands snapped to your hips grasping at generous handfuls, reefing you back into him, running the tip of his cock along you.
He plunged into you without a moments notice, sinking to extremity unexpectedly. Gasping in wretched recognition as your body adjusted, his velvet skin sliding in and out of you, images flashed through your mind of all the times you had done this before. His large hands slid into the pocket between your belly and your hips, thumbs goading you back into him, savouring every thrust back into you. Benedict laced into your hair, firmly pulling you back to meet him, the starving kiss in his arsenal his best yet. That is what it had felt like, these last two years in particular – like surviving in a baron desert, aridity only quenched by a singular person, and that person being unattainable.
Benedict’s hardness sunk into you again and again, particularly rigid on this occasion, you did not recall him filling you quite this much, but every moment was felt like a spiritual experience. His thrusts became vigorous, and he had that look in his eye that you knew all too well, his efforts quickly moving toward fruition. His pelvis slammed into yours with the most gloriously barbaric force, his moans and grunts animating, pleasure absolutely carved throughout his body and face. The eagerness of his movements made you squeal out as he reached deeper places, you hips bounced back encouraging his release inside of you. Benedict’s hands constricted in place; his body unyielding as waves of intensity rolled through him.
Desperately trying to inhale deeper breaths, Benedict rolled onto the bed next to you, stretching out his arms as if he had a stitch in his chest. You giggled at him, lying down too.
“Not as young as you once were?” You chortled.
Benedict flashed you a look of sunny offense, “If I… could breathe… right now, you’d be paying… for that comment…” Benedict chuckled through his panting. You placed your hand on his chest, feeling his heart thump against your hand, your eyes went wide with awe.
After catching his breath, you laid together in the bed for the rest of the day, slipping in and out of each other and conversation. Benedict was enjoying exploring your body again, as it had been two years and another child later.
“I cannot believe we are finally here” Benedict chuffed, his head resting on your navel, staring up at the ceiling.
“Six years later, my darling. To be fair, we did think we would be apart longer” You remarked.
Benedict paused, fingers circling your forearm wrapped over him, “Y/n… There are rumours circulating the Ton…” He uttered kindly, approaching with gentility.
“I suppose you should know what happened to Roger,” You sighed, more embarrassed for yourself than for the old codfish, “I received news six months previous, that Roger had passed at an establishment… during intercourse with a working woman” You pursed your lips together, trying not to laugh. This was the first time you had explained the situation out loud, to anyone at all. The hilarity was not lost on you, but it felt wrong for the widow to relish the death of her husband outwardly, no matter the kind of man he was.
Benedict was silent for a few more moments, his eyes squinting in reserve, white flashes of teeth peeking through his lips, trying his hardest not to burst into laughter. “At least, he died doing what he loved?” Benedict knew he could hold up the façade no longer, resigning to his impish personality, eliciting a perpetual and free laugh from you. You ruffled his hair merrily, giving playful shoves for saying something so outrageous.
“Perhaps so! It is difficult to explain to the children, not that he had much interest in them anyway. I am hoping they will adjust quickly; they are quite young still” You gave Benedict a gentle smile. You knew he had been waiting to bring up the children, only having seen them a handful of times over the last 5 years.
“When can I see them?” Benedict asked keenly.
“Their nanny took them for a walk in the gardens when I was informed my father was on the grounds… He is not particularly fond of them either” You shrugged, “They will surely be returning soon” You reached out to stroke Benedict’s face, his excitement uncontainable.
Benedict continued to talk about the children, taking guesses at their heights and how they walked. He asked about their favourite foods and favourite colours, he wanted to know everything. More than anything, he had wanted to be there to see them grow and change. He had spent their lives memorising details in letters, their descriptions and little personalities, so desperate to know them. Benedict was recently thrilled to learn that Benjamin had lost his very first tooth at just five years old. He was also filled with pride when you wrote of Beatrice climbing down the stairs for the first time, all be herself – she was three now and while Benedict felt like he had missed so much, he knew how much more there was to come, that he would get to be a part of.
“My apologies, I am just overjoyed to finally be here” Benedict’s eyes watered lightly.
“Do not apologise, they will be excited too, you know they love you” You smiled, wiping away his singular tear. You leant down to place a kiss on his forehead, which he intercepted, stealing yours lips away with his own, warm and full.
Benedict rolled onto his front, lifting your thigh over him and snuggling himself between your legs. His nose rested in your tangle of pubic hair, nudging gently at your slit. Without meaning to, you laid back in anticipatory relaxation, Benedict’s arms wrapping around your thighs.
“You are unreasonably delicious my love” Benedict moaned from between your thighs.
His fingers danced around your outer flesh, tickling and pleasing strokes slowly replaced by his tongue, wet and pleasantly heated. Your eyes rolled back in your head, your lung’s feeling collapse was just moments away. It had been so long, and you were well and truly voracious for him, you had thought about this every single day.
Writhing under his ministrations, Benedict gently lapped at your clitoris, hardly touching it at times. You whimpered in hopeless desperation as he teased and circled exactly where you wanted him to press. There was no doubt Benedict was a connoisseur at this fine art and you were thankful for it. His hands slid up under your behind, lifting you up and into his face, you gave a slight squeal at his strength. The smile in his eyes melted your core, watching the lower half of his face flex and move, buried in your pussy. With every flick of his tongue, every suck of his lips, you could not stop yourself from grinding back onto his face.
Your face strained, trying to conceal the loudest moans these walls would have heard, Benedict’s ravenous tongue lapping senselessly, your knees shaking either side of him. Every moan from Ben vibrated through you, your hand flew violently to the back of his head, demanding more and more of him. Sucking your clit between his lips insistently, his teeth grazing your sensitive nub, Benedict allowed you to orgasm. Your hips bucked against his face, the hot friction of his stubbled face a godly addition to your unleashing.
Remaining still, Benedict’s soft eyes peered up at you, taking in every moment of your completion, committing it all to memory. You could tell just by the look in his eyes that you were a transcendent idol, sent here only for him. His tongue dallied, sensually slipping between your lips a last few times before he released your thighs.
“God, I love it when you do that!” You almost yelled in exotic delight.
“You taste marvellous, truly otherworldly. I could spend the rest of my life tending to you like that” Benedict smiled widely, subtly licking around his mouth to take in the rest of you.
You remained on the flat of your back, drunk on your adoration of him, “I wish you would” You laughed, half joking. It occurred to the both of you at separate times, that there was no longer a need to rush, nor savour these moments. There was nothing to keep you apart any longer, no one to hide from.
~
Benedict suggested bathing before dinner, so you loosely dressed, calling for the housekeeper to fetch the ladies’ maids to sort some baths. Once the both of you were dressed and ready for dinner, you descended the stairs, you arm linked over his, his gentlemanly stature reinstated upon leaving the bedroom.
The children sat on the rug in the dining room, surrounded by the petals of the flowers Benedict had arrived with this morning. Benjamin looked up, playful excitement lighting his face as he noticed the two of you.
“Mama!” He exclaimed, running into your legs, wrapping his small arms around them.
“Good evening my boy” You hummed, bending down to swoop him up into your arms. Benjamin remembered Benedict from visits previously, but he had not been around in some time. He outstretched his tiny hand, offering a handshake to his father. His sweet little teeth biting into his bottom lip, the centre one missing.
“Are you going to be staying for tea?” He asked curiously, the way children do.
“Yes, my small friend, I am,” Benedict took his hand and shook it properly, “My name is Ben, I do not know if you remember me”.
“My name is Ben as well” Benjamin gasped in innocent surprise. Without thinking, you passed your five-year-old son over to his father as they continued to talk, Benedict instinctually taking him on his hip, just like he had Gregory and Hyacinth not all that long ago. You travelled across the room to Beatrice, who gathered handfuls of pink rose petals and threw them into the air above her head, clapping as they rained down upon her. You scooped your smallest child into your chest, meeting Benedict and Benjamin at the table, placing her in her little chair. Her dark curls framing her face in sweet disposition, she waved happily to the strange man at the table. As the staff served dinner, Benedict took his place at the head of the table, with encouragement from you. You could see joy filling him right to the brim, happiness pouring out of him without a hint of regret. This was what you had both worked for. The housekeeper stopped by you on her way back to the kitchen, gently pinching your cheeks just like a mother would, she had not seen you smile like this in such a long, long time.
~
The family spent one week together at the estate before Benedict thought it was time to travel to Mayfair, to tell him family of this news. He was not sure how they would handle him marrying a widow, nowhere on his list of objectives was there a point to explain the children and why they looked like him. Benedict had slotted into their lives perfectly and without incident, the children already slipping and calling him father at times. His heart nearly beat right out of his chest with pride.
Arriving at the Bridgerton house, Benedict carried Bea on his hip from the carriage, entering to his family waiting in the entrance hall eagerly awaiting whatever the news in his letters could be.
The first thing Benedict noticed before he had even introduced his family, was his mothers all knowing smile, and the happiness reflected in her eyes.
“Family, this is Lady Y/n Howard, and we are to be married” Benedict announced loudly, a slight echoing ringing through the entrance hall. Anthony and Collins eyes bounced between Benedict and each other, confusion ruling their faces. Everyone else littered them with congratulatory hugs and kisses.
“And who are these darlings?” Violet came forward, kissing Benedict and reaching out to rub Beatrice’s small hands on his chest.
“This is Beatrice, and this young man is Benjamin” Benedict introduced his children to his mother, watching her crouch down to take Benjamins outstretched hand for a handshake.
“How gorgeous! What a fine gentleman” Violet’s smile was sunlight, her demeanour so utterly welcoming. Beatrice leaned out of Benedict’s arms, shuffling herself across to Violet’s chest, snuggling into her grandmother. The both of you knew then that Violet had caught on as she rocked gently from side to side, Beatrice fitting perfectly in her arms as all the Bridgerton babes had before.
“Please, come to the sitting room, I will fetch the tea” Hyacinth directed everybody up the stairs to the second floor. As you and Benedict were about to follow behind the children and the other Bridgerton siblings, Colin and Anthony sequestered your arms away to an adjacent room.
Anthony closed the double doors to the dining room, and benedict slid his hand into yours in solidarity. Colin circled the both of you like a shark in open water, his normally cheery face overrun with suspicion. Anthony frowned pensively in front of you, rubbing his face, well and truly confused.
“This is all happening rather fast, do you not think?” Anthony asked sceptically.
Benedict licked his lips in preparation, “Brother, you know I was in love with y/n all those years ago. We have simply reconnected since the very sad death of her late husband” Benedict portrayed the sympathetic friend, the shoulder to cry on in a time of need.
“I see, and your engagement taking in place exactly six months after the death of Lord Howard is simply a coincidence?” Anthony questioned, logical suspicion stirring up his role as caretaker of the family.
“Yes. Benedict was very considerate, giving me my time to grieve my husband before coming to visit and offer his condolences. It can be quite confronting when one is bombarded with flowers and well wishes all but a day after a loss” You lamented, doing your best to act your part, the sullen widow.
Anthony nodded, having experienced such a similar event after the death of their father Edmund, “I understand, I am glad that you have reconnected with each other after all these years… I do just have one more question, and I will only ask once. I do not wish to offend you, however if I found out either of you had anything to do with the death of Lord Howard, I –”
“Lord Howard died in the bed of a prostitute” You blurted out, interrupting Anthony quite rudely. He was inferring the two of you had murdered Lord Howard for his estate and potentially as a crime of passion. That was not the case, your true secret seemed to be thoroughly unnoticed by the eldest brother.
Anthony and Colin stood side by side, their mouths gaping at the same time, blinking in uneasy embarrassment. There had been several rumours circulating the Ton regarding the death of Lord Howard, this was not the one they had expected to be true. Anthony snapped back to reality, shutting his mouth and nodding uncomfortably. He gestured toward the door, Benedict pulling you out of the room, heading for the stairs.
“It is strange… Those kids look a lot like Ben” Colin muttered to Anthony as they followed on behind you, not a far distance away. Benedict turned and met Anthony’s gaze in his peripheral as the whole thing dawned on the eldest Bridgerton boy. Dropping your hand, Benedict darted up the stairs, headed for the safety of his mother.
“Benedict, get back here!?” Anthony shouted, the vein in his forehead violently protruding, he stormed up the stairs after Ben.
Colin slipped into the space Benedict left, holding out his arm for you to take, “Come on, I’ll show you to the sitting room. They are going to be a while. At least you will not have to endure two dead husbands… Anthony’s going to kill him before he gets to the altar” Colin chuckled, your arm clinging to his as he escorted you up the stairs.
--------------------------------------------
Tag list: @cringycat24 // @blckbarbiedoll // @freyagallileaevans // @junkie05 // @rosabeetroot // @flamewriterr // @marvelouslyme96 // @moreover-clover // @dollarstore-lydia-deetz // @newavenger // @lifealot // @rosie-posie08 // @saintmagx // @booknerdlifelover // @impala1967666 // @mmmunson // @riseupfromthemud // @tehkairuu //
If you would like to be tagged in Bridgerton fanfiction written by me, please let me know!
#fanfiction#request#fanfic#anon#bridgerton#bridgerton fanfiction#bridgerton season 3#bridgerton smut#x fem!reader#x reader#benedict bridgerton fanfiction#benedict bridgerton smut#benedict bridgerton x reader#benedict bridgerton imagine#benedict bridgerton#benedict bridgerton x you#bridgerton imagine#bridgerton x reader#bridgerton x you#anthony bridgerton#colin bridgerton#inspired by bridgerton#x you#benedict bridgerton x y/n#benedict bridgerton x fem!reader
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Take the damn shot
A/N: Ohhhhh I've spiraled. Going from Mandalorian fics to writing about a radioactive cowboy with no nose within a couple weeks of each other is totally healthy :) Tags: Fallout, Cooper Howard, Cooper Howard x F!Reader, Cooper Howard x You, Ghoul x Reader WARNINGS: Canon-Typical language and violence. Summary: A single quiet day in the saloon is all you wanted. But somehow, your Ghoul partner is pulling his gun and you're covered in another person's blood. Honestly, it's just typical.
Word Count: 1.7k+
(GIF Credit to @djo)
The Ghoul hates to admit it, but he needs you.
In the same sick and twisted, goddamned way he needs the Vials to stay sane, he needs you next to him. When poison air grows thick and the scorching sun sinks beyond a brutalized horizon, you’re always at his side. Day in and day out, you stick around. Full of piss and vinegar, ready to take on the fucked up world you’re all stuck in.
And Cooper’s not one for generosity anymore, but he gives you credit a lot of the time. He knows he can be nasty, and you don’t mind one bit. In spite of his callousness and general disregard for safety, you put on a chipper attitude and tug him (sometimes physically) along to the next town. Outwardly innocent but filled with a mutual hatred for Vault-Tec and what its influence had done to the world and yourself, you’d quickly become his diamond in the rough.
And you shine particularly bright in the shack of a building the Wasteland called a saloon. You’ve made careful friends with a couple of gray-haired biddies- presumably the owners- in the back of the room, and chat happily with them. Cooper sits off to the side behind you, a bottle of the local brew dangling between his fingers. He’s content for the first time in a while; ass in a creaky rocking chair and boots kicked up on an old milk crate. The brim of his hat is pulled down to hide the majority of his face, but eyes wander lazily from you to the front door.
Cooper didn’t think many things were nice any longer, but listening to you prattle on with the women warmed something in his dead heart.
“You’re awfully pretty for this place.” The older of the two women, sporting a single eye and an impressively neat beehive style, compliments you. “Gotta be out of the Vaults with that skin.”
The Ghoul tenses, knowing the mention of your 200-year prison would strike a nerve.
“Yeah. I’m from before the war, actually.” You say it plainly and chase it down with a swig of liquor. “Fuckin’ Vault-Tec.”
The Ghoul’s familiar with your story, from you finding out about the plan to drop homemade bombs on American citizens to your confrontation with the executive group in Vault 31. Little did you know, you’d be sneaking in with no chance for escape. Cooper tightens his fist at the thought of Hank MacLean shoving you carelessly into a cryopod and slamming the button to lock you in. You’d relayed the story to him with watery eyes, and that’s something he absolutely loathed. He had enough personal beef with Hank that your trauma added to his ever-growing list of things to be absolutely pissed-the-fuck-off about.
Finch and Sparrow, as they were so comically named, clutch their pearls in sadness as you tell your story. They fawn over you, and Cooper makes out a few ‘fuck them Vaulties’ and a ‘well as much as it sucks, we’re glad you made it this far’. You sniff just barely and wipe your eyes.
“Thanks, ladies. It means a lot.”
The conversation turns back pleasant for the most part, and you’re enthralled as the women pull you into the town gossip. Cooper begrudgingly gets up to piss, comfy as he was, but stops at your side to hand off his bag first. You take it with a nod, more interested in the rumor mill than his whereabouts for the moment. He swaggers to the back door of the saloon, where wind whips sand against his jeans and patters the leather of his boots with tiny rocks.
Voices drift out the door from inside as Cooper yanks his zipper back up.
“Is it true what they say ‘bout Vaulties?” It’s a man’s voice, gruff and demanding in comparison to the happy lilt of yours. “Heard your story and always been… curious.”
“If you listened, you would know I ain’t no Vaultie.” Your reply is instant, but the edge in your voice has Cooper stepping a little faster down the short hallway. He reemerges to the sight of a suspiciously dressed man leaning against the wood beam beside your table, a little too close for comfort.
“Sure you are, darlin’. I can tell by lookin’ at’chya.” The man’s face is half-covered by a bandanna, and a pair of sand goggles are pushed up on his forehead, “Like they say.. everything’s… softer.”
There’s suddenly a hand landing on your shoulder, and Cooper sees red. His gun is pulled before he knows it, leveling at the man’s forehead.
“Hands off the girl.” He growls.
On closer inspection the man is probably close to the age you appear. Above the bandanna, weatherbeaten skin turns into frizzy ginger hair. He’s wearing a typical duster type coat, and the goggles are leaving red marks in his forehead. Cooper decides he’s taken shits more attractive than him.
Probably smarter, too.
“Fuck off, Ghoul.” Is the reply Cooper receives, sending a flash of white-hot anger through his already irradiated body. “I wasn't talkin’ to you.”
It was all too common, being brushed off. At this point in his life, it actually brings a smirk to his face. Your mouth is even tipping up at the edges, having had many interactions with the can of worms this guy was prying open.
“Listen man, I think you should let it go.” You warn and try to stand from the broken chair you had been carefully perching on. The red-head doesn’t relent, and pushes you back down into the chair. It wobbles dangerously as Cooper stomps closer. The movement prompts your captor to pull his own gun. It’s a crudely made pipe pistol, but able to shoot flying projectiles into your brains nonetheless.
“Get your goddamn hands off her before I decorate that wall with your fuckin’ skull.” Cooper yanks the hammer back on his pistol, hesitating at your close proximity.
The redhead pulls his bandanna down and Cooper watches you lean away as you recognize the scent and characteristics of a Fiend. His teeth are hanging loosely at crooked angles, and the pock marks around his mouth from scratching his skin open drip blood and serous fluid. His gun is trained on Cooper, but he freezes when he sees the Ghoul shift forward.
“Ah ah ah. How’d you like me to put a bullet in her instead?” The Fiend tugs you to your feet and nuzzles at your hair as he presses the barrel of his gun to your ribs. “I’d love a taste myself.”
The suffocating need to keep you safe and at his side fills Cooper’s corroded veins as you scowl at the Fiend whose nose is pressed dangerously close to your cheek with rotten teeth bared. Rage ignites from the anger he’s already feeling.
BANG.
Cooper’s watching when the red spray of blood washes over half the saloon, but still doesn’t quite comprehend what’s happened. His gun didn’t fire, but the scent of ignited powder fills the air. You fall to the floor along with your captor, and the aforementioned rage boils over. He holsters his gun and scrambles to pull you away in the chaos.
Thankfully, a quick once-over shows you to have no injuries, but the same can’t be said for your attacker. A foot away the Fiend lies still, about five pounds lighter from the gaping hole in his chest. Gore from his wound is splattered thick across your face and neck. Your eyes are pinched closed to avoid anything unsightly entering them, and you lash out blindly when Cooper grasps your arms.
“Let me go, you rotten bastard!” The Ghoul catches your right hand before it can hook into his jaw, “I’ll kill you myself.”
“Quit squealin’ sunshine, it’s me.” Cooper growls
While he’s getting a handle on your flailing limbs, a shadow covers the both of you. Cooper glances up at the one-eyed old woman who’s sawed-off shotgun is still smoking in her left hand.
“I know your brain is shrunken and all, but next time take the shot sooner.” She bites. “And feel free to clean up my damn bar.”
Cooper is torn between staring at the older woman- Sparrow, he thinks- and trying to contain your squirming. He’s not too fragile to admit he really doesn’t want to take a punch from you right now, so he wipes the back of his hand across your eyes and tugs you to sit up beside him.
“Cooper?”
He huffs a laugh at your incredulous tone and flicks away the remnants of blood littering your skin “The one and only. Open your eyes.”
They flicker open slowly, and you pout at the blood congealing on your clothes. “I just got these pants.”
Cooper sets a hand on your thigh and squeezes gently. “I’ll buy you a new pair. S’Long as you promise not to get Fiend all over those ones too.”
You thrust an elbow into his ribs at the jab and climb to your feet. Cooper follows with a dramatic groan.
“Old man.” You tease over your shoulder, observing the carnage from Sparrow’s well-aimed shot. A kick to the corpses’ ribs follows, sending a splatter of blood across Cooper’s pants. You shoot him an insincerely apologetic look. “She’s right, you know.”
The Ghoul follows your gaze to Sparrow, who’s hollering at any remaining patrons that dare tread too close to the mess, damning them for tracking blood around the bar.
“‘Bout what?”
You lean into his space, the scent of blood thick in the air. “Take the damn shot sooner.”
Cooper grabs the back of your neck and yanks you forward in a hard kiss. The blood transfers easily onto his lips, and he licks it off while pulling away. “Fucker deserved more than one shot.”
Possessiveness floods his mind and he squeezes the soft flesh beneath his fingers.
“I’da strung him up by his balls if I got my hands on him.” He mutters, tracing another finger through the blood and popping it into his mouth. “After grabbin’ onto you like that.”
You lean into his chest and let a smile curl the corners of your lips up. “All for little ol’ me?”
The Ghoul pinches your bloody cheek. “Anything for you, sweetheart.”
-------------------
thanks for reading, much love ❤
Read More: Fallout Masterlist
#fallout imagine#cooper howard#cooper howard x reader#cooper howard x you#cooper howard x f!reader#The Ghoul x Reader#the Ghoul x you#cooper howard x oc#fallout tv series#lucy maclean#walton goggins#fallout fiends#possessive!cooper howard#fallout#fallout 4#fallout new vegas#ghouls deserve love too#the ghoul
2K notes
·
View notes