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almost sweet music
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words: 900
warnings: 18+ only, smut, thigh job, clit rubbing, brief tit play, childhood friends to lovers, kinda somnophilia?
your eyes are open, but they might as well be closed as you look at nothing but pure darkness. you shift ever so slightly, pressing further into rafes hold.
it's not the first time you've shared a bed. he's been your friend for years, and you used to have sleepovers every weekend before your bodies developed and it became awkward.
you would still occasionally fall asleep in rafes bed, usually when the movie he picked to watch was too boring, or when you were waiting around for him and ended up taking a nap enveloped in his scent.
tonight is different. even when you share a bed, rafe never cuddles so close to you like this. yeah, you'll wake up with your head on his chest or a leg slung over his, but rafe is pressed right against your back.
his chest is rising and falling in a steady rhythm, but you can't tell for certain if he's asleep or just relaxed having you against him.
you close your eyes, relaxing back into his hold. his soft breath fans over your shoulder, barely covered by your tank top strap.
you're about to fall asleep when you feel something poking you. your eyes open again, wider this time as rafes hip press forward.
his obvious erection grinds against your ass, slow movements fooling you into believing rafe must be asleep still, body acting on its own, much like yours does when you seek him out in your sleep.
rafe let's out a soft moan, then a mumble of your name, and now you're certain he must be awake since you've never heard him sleep talk before.
his hips begin to move faster, like he's testing out how far he can take it before you wake up. how much movement will it take for you to stir, testing how much he can get away with.
you stiffen for a brief moment before relaxing again. you squeeze your eyes shut as you try to keep your breathing regular. you don't want rafe to stop. 
to others, it's been a clear (and long) game you've been playing, both pining after each other while claiming to just be best friends. this is the first time rafe has shown any clear evidence to you of his sexual attraction. what you don't see is his longing looks whenever your back is turned, or the way he's quick to go after any guy who looks at you for a little too long.
you let out a silent curse in your head. of course he's only doing this because he thinks your asleep as he moves faster against you, barriers of fabric in the way but not stopping his light moans, almost sweet music against your ears.
you wonder how long he's been pushing up against you before it woke you up. you consider your options. sit here silently, let him cum in his pants, or take action, show you're awake, and change your life forever.
you're done with the game as you reach down, startling rafe as he lets out a curse, but you simply pull your shorts down along with your underwear, revealing your bare ass as you spread your thighs, pussy on show and already starting to get wet.
you wait for rafe to continue. when it's clear he won't, you reach behind your back to pull his cock out of his pajama pants.
rafe follows your motions, taking your lead and going as far as you will allow as you rub his cock through your folds before closing your thighs around him.
“keep going.” you say. 
the words is all the encouragement rafe needs as he begins to thrust, the slick between your thighs growing as he pushes against you.
a hand that was holding you close to him travels to your pussy, rubbing you with a single finger, the pad rough against your sensitive clit.
the sound of slapping skin is a telltale sign of what is happening in the dark, as rafes hips meet your ass with every thrust.
you long for him to press into your cunt, but you know you need to have an actual discussion about what this is before allowing him to fuck you properly. the thighs will have to do.
rafe rubs faster, with a clear purpose as his cock swells. you can tell he's not far off, and the pure excitement from finally being with rafe also has your high growing.
you press further into his chest as your thighs squeeze together as tight as you can force them, letting out a moan when rafe spills, cum spurting through the gap onto the bed sheet.
he leaves his cock to soften between your legs as his finger keeps working on you, free hand coming to grab your chest over your shirt, hand possessively gripping your tits until your back arches, a strangled moan leaving your lips as you cum.
rafes hands disappear from off of you. you turn to face him, but can't see his expression.
“im-im sorry.” his words are enough for you to pinpoint where his mouth is as you lean in, pressing your lips together in a heated kiss.
“we can talk about it in the morning.” you say, tucking yourself back into his side. “we will cuddle and sleep and be in a much clearer headspace.”
rafe hesitates for a second before pressing a kiss to the top of your head, a soft smile on his face as your breathing returns to normal, not allowing himself to fall asleep until he hears your gentle snores.
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s1!rafe doesn’t like girls picking on his perfect angel girlfriend, it’s disrespectful — not only to you but to him and his reputation.
if he finds out a girl is picking on you, he knows he can’t go for her — so he’ll go for the next best thing. finding her boyfriend on his way to his golf cart at the country club and wiping the smile off his face when he smacks him hard with his golf club a good few times before looming over the confused and bloody man on the floor. “you — you know i heard your girlfriend hasn’t been very nice to my girl. you know anything about that?” rafe squints, lowering into a squat as the guy cowers beneath his shadow.
“what? i don’t get involved with that shit!” he defends, holding his hands up. rafe grips him by the shirt, yanking him up just a tad to talk right in his face.
“well get involved. keep your bitch on a leash, alright?”
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Cooper Howard x reader she is a run away vault dweller on a mission. After finding out about the experiment of her vault she runs shes headed to Vault tech industries to learn of all the experiments and locations determined to expose vault tech for their wrong. When she comes across Cooper while wandering she's not scared, nor disgusted she offers to trade for some caps for directions. After she pays her caps he immediately sees the resemblance between her and her father a higher up in Vaultech he pretty much tells her she's stupid digging into this (secretly knowing she's bound to find out her father's connection to all of it), she looks him in the eyes telling him "like I give two fucks what YOU think about me, besides you still took my caps, can't hate us all too much". She doesn't realize that he followed her, nor that other time he was getter closer with her even caring about her. When she gets the locations she was looking for and list of experiments. By the time she gets to the file of who signed off on dropping the bomb she is stunned to read her father's name. Numbly she grabs the list and locations walking out of the office to find him leaning against the building. When he tries to comfort her she tries desperately to push him away but ends up falling apart in his arms
Boy, this was a doozy, but it was still fun to write
Vaultie is now available
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🐱 Oriental Shorthair
📸 Inna Frunze [Otornasse]
🎨 Black
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୨୧ how sugardaddy!rafe found his favorite little muñeca
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rafe wasn’t entirely sure as to what it was that piqued his father’s need to go on vacation every few months out of the year, but he wasn’t against it. since returning back to tannyhill, following his brief collegiate stint, rafe needed an outlet — a place where he could go and blow a few tens of thousands of dollars and not be reprimanded, a place where he could lose himself in copious amounts of coke without judgement, a place where he could be the man — the one who was needed, the one who had all the answers.
so, when ward came up with the brilliant idea to send his eldest of kin to the island of culebra, puerto rico — just to keep his volatile son out of trouble … rafe was quick and eager to oblige.
the villa was immaculate, completely renovated from the ground up, with the pristine view of the clear turquoise waters that crashed against the powder white sand. but what caught rafe’s bright baby blues was the little puerto rican girl who stood bent over, tiny white shorts sucked in the soft fat of your plush ass as you carefully picked at the bright fuschia hibiscus flower that grew alone in the patch of crisp green grass. shiny blown out hair cascaded down the small of your back as rafe tongued the inside of his cheek, watching closely as you straightened your posture, the shorts now almost entirely swallowed by your plump ass.
rafe couldn’t help himself, but continue to ogle at you, his bloodshot eyes carelessly drinking in the way your bronze skin shimmered under the sun, as well as the cute hot pink heart-shaped glitter tattoo that sparkled on your lower back. and fuck, it took everything in him to not shove his hand down his pants with the way the fat of your ass sat all heavy and perfectly curved against the flimsy fabric of your shorts.
smiling to himself, rafe obnoxiously clears his throat, causing you to flinch and whip your pretty little head at him, all wide eyed and open-mouthed, “uh, don’t think y’should be pickin’ at other people’s flowers, huh?” he questions, his voice dripping in a condescending cadence as you immediately drop the pretty flower from your small fist, allowing it to fall at your sparkly pink toes.
remaining silent, you awkwardly shift on your feet, blinking your wispy lashes together as you close your mouth, “i’m sorry, i just — hmph,” you sigh, your nose scrunched in frustration as you struggled to find the right words … in english, at least.
cocking his head to the side, rafe chuckles at your fussy state, his stringy bangs masking the way he incessantly stared at the way the swells of your breasts bounced against your one size too small lily pink triangle bikini top. judging by your thick accent, rafe could tell that communicating with you would be a bit of a struggle — lucky for you, he considered himself to be a proactive man of sorts.
taking a step closer to you, rafe feigns a sigh of disappointment, even going so far as to pinch the bridge of his nose “i don’t know, i may just have to tell someone that y’just comin’ here and makin’ a mess of things — i can’t have that, sweetheart,” he shrugs.
your little heart thumped rapidly against your chest as you bit down into your pouty bottom lip, swallowing thickly as you brought your terrified gaze to the ground.
deciding to twist the knife, rafe nudged the point of your chin with the side of his signet-tinged index finger with squinted eyes, “y’parents never taught y’how to talk to people, huh?” he questions, his pupil-blown eyes searching yours as you parted your swollen lips.
furiously shaking your head, you take a short breath, “i-i dunno how — the words are h-hard,” you speak, your voice small and mousey as your eyes meet rafe’s intimidatingly blue ones.
“well, y’gotta learn, yeah?” rafe shrugs.
with bright and naive eyes, you let out an excited gasp, “you can teach me?” you question, swollen lips pursed together as rafe licks over his pink chapped lips, taking another step closer to you as his rough hand grasps the side of your face.
you were a naive little one, a bit too welcoming … but he could fix teach you.
bringing his thumb to curve around your jaw, rafe shushes you, “y’shouldn’t be walkin’ around stranger’s houses dressed like that — your daddy ever teach you that?” rafe lightly pushes your head back, a shit-eating grin now playing on his handsome face as you obediently answer him with a forceful shake of your head.
your bambi eyes now welled with embarrassed tears, you gently attempted to pull your face from the young man’s tight hold, “yo no tengo …” you whimper softly.
shifting your face, rafe raises a corrective brow at you, “english, kid,” he scolds.
poking out your fat bottom lip in a wobbly pout, you lightly stomp your foot in frustration, “i don’t have a daddy,” you whine, a warm teardrop rolling down the apple of your cheek as rafe tutted at you with a knowing nod to himself.
“that’s the problem, huh? y’don’t have a daddy to keep y’little ass in line,” rafe mumbles, bringing his thumb to mush against your swollen and somewhat sticky lips as you stare at him with confused, yet needy little eyes.
letting go of your jaw, rafe runs a hand through his greasy hair, before swiping at the corner of his mouth with his finger, “listen kid, m’gonna take care of you, yeah? buy you whatever girly shit y’like — maybe even take y’home with me one of these days —”
“like a daddy?”
letting out a huff, rafe takes in the way you reach down to grab ahold of the wilted flower, boobs nearly spilling out of your bikini tops as you fist it tightly in your grip, “yes, but i’ll be your daddy —”
“papi!” you beam, a wide smile stretching your swollen lips as you bat your cutesy stacked lashes together, “that’s your name?” you ask politely, reaching your small hands to tug on the waistband of your shorts, unknowingly pulling them further up your ass.
“rafe is my name, pretty girl — but y’can call me papi, okay?” he coos, swiftly snagging the flimsy flower from your hand, causing you to pout as you roll your eyes, leaving rafe to snap his fingers at you, “hey — don’t start that shit, now come here and let me fix y’up,” he commands, internally satisfied with the way you quickly removed the frown from your face and walked over to him, the tips of your toes meeting the tips of his sandals.
curling a ginger underneath the waistband of your shorts, rafe softly pulls on the stretchy fabric, taking a mental note of the frilly thing you wore underneath. placing the flower in your shorts, rafe carefully secures the band of your shorts to hold the flower upright, you dainty belly button ring also catching his watchful eyes.
craning your neck to get a look of your cute new accessory, you scoff with excitement, “aye, es muy bonita, papi!” you squeal, rushing to swing your arms around rafe’s tense and warm neck.
lightly patting the top of the curve of your asscheek, rafe gently pulls you away from him, “listen, kid — y’can’t just trust every person you meet, yeah? not everyone is going to be nice like your papi, hm?” he clasps his hands around your bare shoulders, biting back a smirk as you nod feverishly.
“tell me that you understand,” rafe pushes, silently encouraging you with a small squeeze of your shoulders.
“i und-understand,” you breathe out.
bringing a hand to barely pat your cheek, rafe reaches his free hand down to tug the hem of your shorts down to cover your ass, “good girl — now why don’t y’come with daddy and i’ll buy y’some pretty clothes,” rafe hums, massaging your cheek with his thumb.
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so many ppl from your past know a version of u that no longer exists
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@unimportant she absolutely did lol
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Here's the first video of Glen's grunts, groans and some whimpers while working out
I was burning hot editing this
tagging everyone who interacted with the original post: @boringusername3 @marimiranda1520 @angelbabyyy99 @jessicab1991 @karma-is-my-girl-friend @tgmavericklover @auntiekiki20 @gpsmississippihippie @luckyladycreator2 @djs8891 @downsincejuly @punishereditz @sorchathered @illisea @lilo1471 @loverofallfandoms99 @winters-queen @julieandthe-stan-toms
and people who might enjoy that: @roosterforme @mamachasesmayhem @hangmansgbaby @hardballoonlove
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(Do I even need to say it, like actually?)
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tommy Shelby, the devil of small heath
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i hope scott bartlett knows he is loved 😣😣😣
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Do I? - Beau Simpson x Reader
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a/n: I've been wanting to write for Beau for a while (I love Jon Hamm and this is a hill I am willing to die on), so here's my first one for him. Inspired loosely by Do I? by Luke Bryan.
pairing: Beau Simpson x reader
warnings/content: angst to fluff, mentions of divorce if you squint, Beau being kinda soft, allusions to smut, allusions to child ab*se, Beau doesn't always know how to show his emotions but damn it he tries his best.
word count: 1.9k
taglist: @nouis-bum, @jessicab1991, @b-bradshaw, @ahopelessromanticwritersworld
Do I turn you on at all when I kiss you, baby? Does the sight of me wanting you drive you crazy? Do I have your love? Am I still enough? Tell me don't I? Or tell me, do I, baby Give you everything that you ever wanted? Would you rather just turn away and leave me lonely? Do I just need to give up and get on with my life? Tell me, baby do I get one more try?
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Beau grumbled as he walked through the door, his keys dropping into the catch-all dish on the table with a clatter. His brows knit together as he looked around the room, searching for any sign of you being home. His tired blue-green eyes blinked as he raked a hand over his face, trying to wake himself up as he searched the house for you. Calling your name to no response, he furrowed his brow as he pulled his phone from his pocket. He frowned as he saw there were zero missed calls and zero missed messages from you, a sign that you were truly mad at him this time. 
He let out an exhausted sigh as he slumped into the armchair in the living room, picking up a discarded baseball your son had forgotten to put away and rolling it in his hands, over his fingers and back as his mind ran over the events that unfolded that morning.
He hadn’t meant to be cold towards you or Dylan. He’d been stressed and overworked, struggling with an upcoming mission that he had to plan out, trying to ensure the right team was put together for the job. Combing through dozens of personnel files until his eyes were sore, staying up all hours of the night trying to create an action plan, briefing notes - he rarely left base anymore. He knew you’d felt neglected, and God, he hated making you feel that way. He hated that you felt unwanted, unloved, and yet, you did everything you could to still make life easier for him. He knew he didn’t deserve that. In fact, he knew he didn’t deserve you–your patience, your understanding, your love and affection. He didn’t deserve to be Dylan’s father either, not that he’d been a particularly good one anyway. 
Dylan had a baseball tournament coming up, and you’d asked Beau if he’d be able to make it. Dylan’s team had never been invited to play before, but they’d managed to make it to a statewide tournament, teams from all over California would be there with their children, ages 8-10. The Coronado Crowns were having a record season, and Dylan had begun to emerge as their star pitcher. When you’d asked him about it, he’d had a dozen other things on his mind - he couldn’t even remember you mentioning it in the first place, if he was honest. He figured he’d hummed along in response, not hearing what you’d said, but not wanting to give off the impression he wasn’t listening. 
Unaware of what he’d agreed to, Beau bounded down the stairs this morning, his footsteps heavy as he headed to the kitchen. He was running late, and barely had time to have coffee with you, but he was determined to at least kiss you good morning before heading out the door. You’d frowned at him when you saw him in uniform, and immediately, his mind began to race, running through a list of scenarios that could have upset you. He wasn’t the most romantic husband - he knew that, but he was sure he’d never forgotten an anniversary or a birthday. It wasn’t until Dylan came down in his baseball uniform, his duffel bag packed for the four-day tournament slung over his shoulder. His face fell as he looked at Beau, an instant wave of guilt washing over Beau’s face.
“I’m sorry, I forgot, buddy, listen, I really have to get this done at work, I have a briefing scheduled for today, I can’t miss it,” Beau had explained, trying to reason with his 9 year old son. 
“I get it, Dad, it’s ok,” Dylan shrugged before sitting down at the breakfast nook for some scrambled eggs. 
“We’re leaving at 10, get to Oakland for about 8 tonight,” you explained, nodding your head as you forced a smile in Dylan’s direction.
Beau let out a frustrated sigh, of course you weren’t home now - you left four hours ago. You were halfway to Oakland by this point. He leaned his head back against the chair, shutting his eyes for a moment as he dragged his hand over his face once more. He knew he’d fucked up. He knew he’d let you both down. He checked his phone again. If he left now, he could probably make it to you and Dylan by 11 if he made minimal stops on his way. He could make this right, he could show up tonight, surprise you - surprise Dylan in the morning when he woke up, spend the weekend being the father and husband he’d failed to be for the last month or so. 
Beau bolted up the stairs, quickly changing out of his uniform and into more relaxed, civilian clothes. He grabbed a bag from the closet and began to shove some clean clothes inside, showing little care about keeping them neat or organized. He headed to the bathroom, grabbing his toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant and his razor, tossing them all into the bag in a hurry. Bounding back down the staircase, he stepped into his running shoes and flew out the door with his keys and bag in hand. A well-loved baseball cap from his college days sat in the front seat - a relic he’d meant to bestow to Dylan but forgotten about. He placed the cap on his head, sporting it backwards, just as he would have done 30+ years ago when he got it. 
As he drove down the interstate, he thought about the ways he could apologize to you. His mind ran through all the things you liked, the romantic gestures he’d heard you mention, the different romcom tropes you loved - anything he could think of that could make up for what he’d lacked in as a husband. When he stopped for dinner, pulling into a fast-food restaurant just off the highway, he contemplated what he’d say when you asked him if he was insane, knowing that was exactly how you’d respond to hearing that he drove down after all, determined not to miss a minute of Dylan’s tournament. He thought about how he’d pull you in close, giving you an emblazoned, passionate kiss as he held you in his arms, giving a rare, dramatic, public display of affection. He yawned as he pulled into the parking lot of the hotel you were staying at with Dylan, finding an open spot next to your car. He got out, smiling fondly as he spotted the bedazzled steering wheel cover that he always teased you about - the one he’d begrudgingly bought for your birthday when you’d asked for it, pretending to find it ridiculous when really, he was admiring you for it, for being so unashamedly yourself. It was a quality he was jealous of in you - he’d been brought up in an old-school military family, taught to be seen and not heard, to blend in with everyone else and to remain reserved the majority of the time. He rarely cracked a smile outside of the house, and really, even wearing a baseball cap outside of a Padres game was unlike him. 
He approached the front desk with a look of pure determination on his face, his bag clutched in his hand. Once he made it to your room, he rapped on the door with a gentle knock, trying not to make too much noise in the hopes he didn’t wake Dylan. You opened the door, looking ready to chew out whoever it was knocking for waking you, but your look of anger quickly dissipated as you wrapped your arms around Beau tightly. 
“You flew down here?!” You whispered excitedly, arms draped around his neck.
“No, flights were booked,” Beau shook his head with a chuckle, a soft smile forming on his lips, “I drove.”
“You…you drove?”
“Mhmm, all nine hours. I’m surprised I made it before midnight, I finished my briefing early, managed to get the plans set for the mission, and then got home and realized I had time to fix things with you and Dylan.”
“He’ll be so excited. He was devastated at the thought of you not making it to see him play.”
“Look, I have to talk to you, ok?” He began, shaking his head as he let out an awkward chuckle, frowning as he tried to collect his thoughts.
“I’ve been the worst husband to you. I know I have. I know I’ve made you feel unloved, and unwanted, and unimportant, and I’m sorry. I never wanted to make you feel that way. I’ve never wanted our marriage to be strained over my work, and I know my job is demanding and it’s difficult some days for me to put you and Dylan first - but believe me, I love you two more than anything. You know that, right? And, I know you probably aren’t happy with me - I don’t blame you. I know you probably wanted to divorce me ten minutes ago, and you’re complete right in thinking that - I would have deserved it.”
You pressed your lips to his gently, interrupting his rambling with a soft, tender kiss. He pulled away gently, reaching up to take the baseball cap off of his head before ducking down to kiss you again. He pulled away after a moment, breathless and blissful as he gazed at you.
“So, am I still enough for you? Do you want me to leave or do I get another chance?”
“You’ve always been enough, Beau,” you shook your head, beaming up at him, “Even when you forget commitments and you get caught up with work, or when you don’t always say the right thing, you always make up for it and try to fix things, and that’s one of the things I love about you. You drove nine hours when you realized you couldn’t catch a flight down here because you realized how much it meant to Dylan and I for you to be here. I don’t know many other men who’d drop everything on a dime to do that.”
“I guess that’s true,” he nodded, shaking his head in disbelief before leaning in to kiss your cheek. “I mean it though, I really think you could have done better than a middle-aged Admiral who can’t show his emotions very well and doesn’t know how to prioritze anything correctly.”
“You’re right, I could have, but where’s the fun in that?” You teased, taking the baseball cap from his hand and placing it back on his head, backwards.
“By the way, Beau, you should wear a hat like this more often.” 
“Yeah? You think so?”
You bit your lip seductively, holding back a wicked grin as you looked up at him, nodding your head, “Kinda makes me wanna show you just how much I love you.”
“Dylan’s asleep in here,” he laughed, shaking his head as his cheeks flushed.
“Dylan is sleeping in Ryder’s room, three doors away, actually.”
Beau’s eyes widened slightly, his hands drifting down to your hips. He raised an eyebrow as he looked at you, turning his head to the side to scan the room, seeing that, you were in fact, alone. When he turned, you caught a glimpse of the salt and pepper streaks that ran through his hair on the side of his head, the sight alone almost enough to make you melt. 
“Well, in that case, let me show you just how sorry I am.” 
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Bunny would gives rafe a blowjob while being on her phone looking at new cute outfits to order. Rafe would be frustrated because she's not concentrated and would ask her to focus.
ପ(˶•-•˶)ଓ ♡ପ(˶•-•˶)ଓ ♡ପ(˶•-•˶)ଓ ♡ପ(˶•-•˶)ଓ ♡ପ(˶•-•˶)ଓ ♡
you never claimed to be a good multitasker, and trying to fill your cart with rafe's dick in your mouth was a lot harder than you thought. you kept pausing every couple minutes, unintentionally edging him as you rested your top lip against his tip to pick which dress you wanted.
"are you fuckin serious? m'never gonna cum at this rate." he tries to force you back down but you bat his hands away, shoving your phone in his face.
"shut up, pink or blue?"
rafe felt like he was going insane--here you were with his dick in your mouth and you're worried about fucking clothes, "I don't fuckin know blue?"
you pout, "blue isnt in my size!"
"then fuckin get both I'll get it tailored or something." with that he successfully manages to work his way back down your throat, and you murmur happily pressing 'place order'.
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pope who fucks u better than ur lying cheating kook bf
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i’m literally just a sweet and sensitive angel baby, why would anyone be mean to me
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sad rafe edit i just made… tiktok; chxrryhansenn 😛
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