#girl dad *sheds a tear*
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zellaspinna · 4 months ago
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Luca happily and proudly describing what he drew on his helmet and talking about him and Marta is just so sweet
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hayaku14 · 25 days ago
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just thought of pro soccer player shinichi being surrounded by young kids asking for his autograph and begging him to demonstrate some tricks for them and he can't help but indulge them cause he doesn't have the heart to say no to kids
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lovelyamneris · 10 days ago
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I love Rick Grimes so much he’s my favorite character of all time and maybe this is an unpopular opinion, The Ones Who Live show wasn’t good :(
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princekirijo · 2 years ago
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Watching Spiderverse again and god Gwen's whole character arc fucks me UP someone give that girl a hug PLEASE
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josephquinnswhore · 2 months ago
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the consequence of us
dbf! joel miller x female reader
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summary: joel broke off your affair two weeks ago, and now he realises he’s made a grave mistake.
word count: 3.4K
content warning: age gap, joel is old enough to be her dad, reader is mid twenties but unspecified. Reader has cellulite, mentions of power play, Joel’s a bit of a creep lmao, possessive, obsessive behaviour, use of baby girl & daddy dynamic. Collaring, male masterbation, p in v, raw fucking, creampie, sorta rough sex, public sex, submission. (no outbreak)
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Everyone has felt the eerie sensation once in their lifetime, the paranoid feeling of being stared at; only this time, you know you're being stared at. Everytime you bend down to pick up a discarded beer can off your fathers perfectly mowed lawn, with each soft handed gesture on one of your fathers older friends arms, every laugh that seemed a little too real.
But it was your intention, for him to notice you. Perhaps to show him that you could indeed live without him, despite the fact that two weeks ago, on his front porch you'd been weeping, grasping onto him as you beg him not to break things off with you.
The shameful memory of snot and tears mingling as you sobbed on your knees for another chance, like you’d even done anything wrong. Clinging onto the small silver chain he'd gifted you - a subtle everyday collar, one he’d promised with the intention of making you his, properly.
That someday he would make you his girl officially.
This evening, it seemed as though that girl had never existed, maybe it was all a figment of his imagination, of how he saw you, and wanted you to be. A sweet little girl dependent on him.
Joel had managed with teeth scraping against his bottom lip that this was for the best, that a sweet girl like you didn't need him invading your personal life, or that this was wrong, for a man twenty years older than you–let alone the fact that he was your fathers best friend.
Now as he watches you standing next to your fathers friends, with a middle aged woman on his arm, he feels sick to his stomach. You should be doing this with him, the shameless flirting, touching and sneakily bending over for him when no one else seemed to notice. It's like now, you didn't care who saw. Any attention was yours for the taking, and that repulsed joel.
The sweet girl he knew wasn't some attention starved daddies girl dying to fuck every single one of his colleagues and friends, Joel was special, had been.
What was this then, revenge? An attempt to outshine the woman he had on his arm that was closer to sixty than he was. No doubt, his date–Sue. She was beautiful, but she was too outgoing, too loud, too chatty. She drank too many glasses of wine and clung onto joel like he was some kind of prized show dog. Much like that mangy purse mutt she had at her house. Joel didn't belong with Sue, in her middle class house and aggressive teacup chihuahua.
The only place he had ever felt himself belong was with you, a subservient, submissive and sweet girl, did anything Joel had ever asked, found pleasure in being submissive. Maybe he did ruin you, turned you into some kind of modern day sexually aware woman that knew that she was too good for him anymore.
Once again, you're bending over to reach into the large cooler in your fathers shed not bothering to pull down your dress, Joel's eyes were drawn to the sight like a hound. He felt himself growing stiff at the sight of your asscheeks barely covered by the tight dress, each curve, hill and cellulite dimple could be seen leaving nothing to the imagination besides one thing.
What colour panties were you wearing?
“Excuse me a moment, won't you?” He utters to sue under his breath, prying her clinging arm off of his own and approaching you across the lawn, swerving between guests. Before he could reach you, you've left the shed, three cans of drink in hand as you hand them out to your father and two of his friends.
Joel scowls, snatching a cold can out of the cooler and watching you shamelessly across the front yard. He couldn't stop staring at you, your legs, the way your hips swing with every step. It was a fucking nightmare knowing that he had done this, created this confident vixen hell bent on torturing him. He couldn't grab at you, swiftly text you to steal you away for a few minutes for a quickie in the bathroom.
He had ended this, told you it was for good, for real this time.
You know he hasn't been able to take his eyes off of you, and finding your stomach, you approach his date later on in the evening after she's had a few drinks and is standing by her lonesome. “Hi, we haven't met, have we? You're Susan?”
The older woman greets you with a look of complete indifference, a non subtle judging stare in her olden glassy eyes as she gives you a look up and down. “Sue, actually, and you are?”
You reply with your name, giving her a sickly sweet and fake smile, standing tall and rolling your shoulders backwards, ready to cause some strife for the old hag. “So.. you're Joel’s.. what exactly..?”
The disbelief in your tone had the woman feeling insulted, and the stiff look of her face gave that away. She seemed incredibly insecure, you noticed the way she had clung onto Joel since they got here. “We’ve been talking for a while, I’ve heard he's going to ask me to be his girlfriend soon.”
A small snort escapes your nose, and before the woman could drill into you about your reaction..
“Oh you know.. He's just not that good with relationships you know? Totally a ladies man, he likes ‘em young–or younger than you, anyway. So don't hope too much that Joel even likes you at all..anyway, it was so lovely meeting you.”
You hear the woman huff loudly as you abruptly turn and walk away, knowing that you caused an absolute shit fire for Joel to deal with tonight, but you didn't expect Sue to start screaming at Joel the moment you walked away from her.
He sends a glare to you, across the yard, his eyes dark and furious. You were the cause of this, he knew it. As Sue screams at him, he drags her away, down the street.
It's a while before Joel returns, but he comes back alone, explaining to your father what happened. “She's having a moment, probably menopause or something.”
That was hilarious to you, and Joel catches you laughing, beelining straight to you. He grabs your hand, which you shake off, and he doesn't attempt to make another effort to grab you.
“The hell was that? Are you gonna start causing issues for me now?”
With a faux innocent tilt of your head you shrug your shoulders. “I'm sorry, I was just being honest with her, is honesty a problem now, Mr Miller?”
He shouldn't have gotten hard over such a minor thing, being called Mr Miller instead of Joel, that doe-ish look in your eyes as you look up at him, he cant help the stiffness in his jeans return again. Of course you notice the tension, the way he becomes uncomfortable, but you don't dignify him by looking at the thick bulge in his pants, not bothering to show any interest at all.
That.. is what bothers Joel the most. Your disinterest.
His eyes are glued to your every step as you walk away, he subtly palms himself through his jeans and makes his way inside of the house with the intent to wash his face and try to calm down the raging hardness of his cock, but when he smells your perfume in the bathroom.. He loses any sense of control he thought he had.
It was the same perfume you'd spritzed onto your skin before sneaking out to see him all those times, the floral scent lingering on your warm velvety neck. He locks the bathroom door behind him, looking at himself in the mirror. “Get a grip, Miller. She's done with you, you're done with her.”
He quickly contradicts his hollow whisper as he picks up a pair of used black panties on the top of the laundry basket, ones he knew were yours, the soft lace g-string, with a silver love heart on the front, covered in small diamonds, ones he had pulled to the side more times to fuck your hole than he could remember.
It's a desperate and shameful act, he knows, but doesn’t care. He desperately unzips his jeans and pulls out his thick, weeping cock from his jeans, stroking desperately. The other hand holds your panties and he looks at himself as he brings the lace material to his nose and smells it. They're used, and he pulls his cock faster as he shoves the material further into his face, a wet patch on your panties is all he can feel.
The smell of you has him groaning into the lace, desperately fisting his cock faster than he ever had. His knees buckle and he whimpers quietly as he starts sucking on the delicious soaking crotch of your panties as he doubles over the sink and spills a thick load, shooting across the basin.
Joel's sweating, taking one last inhale of your panties, before tossing them back into the laundry hamper, stuffing his softening cock into his jeans before turning on the tap to wash away any evidence of the violating act. He cups his hands under the running water and splashes some onto his face.
As he swings the bathroom door open, you're standing there with a shit eating grin. “All good in there?”
“Fine,” he utters, wondering if you knew, he couldn't meet your gaze after what he’d just done.
Fuck, you were evil for making him like this.
By midnight, everyone had gone home, stumbled off down the cul de sac to their houses, but you don't see Joel leave, which is strange. With your father inside of the house, and the lights shut off, you sneak out of the yard with your phone in hand, texting your friend with the intention of going to her house to drink, walking down the pathway down the street to where your car is parked.
Oblivious, you reach your car and are shocked to see Joel, leaning against the driver's side door. “Where do you think you’re going?” The growl sends a shiver up your spine, a feeling you miss.
“Out,” Joel towers over you as he stands upright, no longer leaning against your car.
“Like hell you are.” There's an edge of possessiveness to his tone, and the way he stands over you. “You need to explain yourself, all that shit you've been doing tonight.”
“I don't have to explain shit–” he cuts you off, his hand shoots out quickly to grab onto your hand. But you react without thinking and slap him.
His eyes snap shut from the force of your hand on his cheek, your hand now stinging from the contact. When he opens his eyes, his gaze is darker than before. He wraps his arms around your waist, grabbing a hold of you as he shoves you roughly against the side of your car door, you wince as your back makes contact with the cold metal. He stands flush against you, whispering in your ear as he cranes his neck downward.
“Careful. You shouldn't start something’ you can't finish baby girl.”
“I’m not your baby girl.”
God-if only you knew how much that struck a nerve within him. “Don't start that.” His voice is harsh, fingers digging tighter into the soft flesh of your chin.
“You're nothing to me.” You insist.
He bit back, his temper flailing. “Yeah? You really tryin’ to convince me that I ain't anythin’ to you, baby girl? That you don't care no more?” His thumb grips your chin harshly, jolting your neck up to look into his eyes.
There's a challenging look in your eyes, defiance, no sign of the devotion or submission he's so used to with you, he really has ruined you.
“Move Joel.”
He knew if he could just manage to get a peep out of you, a small whine or a moan out of you, that he could draw you back into him. His hand trails downward to your nipples, pinching softly, he knew it was such a sensitive area for you, which usually had your back arching.
You should have reacted, whimpered and squirmed or let out a small whine from those pretty lips that he was so used to hearing when he touched you like this. But you gave him nothing, no reaction at all, how did he let this happen? “Why the hell are you bein’ like this? Why are you fightin’’ me so hard?”
“Because I realised something, Joel.” Stepping forward, you bring your hand down to his belt, grabbing onto the buckle.
“And what is it that you think you have figured out?”
“It’s you who needs me.”
He couldn't even deny it, how his stomach felt sick at the thought of you knowing. That somehow you knew that this went beyond physical for him too. When he's silent, you roughly shove him away by the buckle of his belt. Stumbling a few feet back, he hated how weak he felt right now.
“You’re old, Joel. You love how it feels to have someone so much younger to pine over you, that's why things won't last with that old cunt, sue. Part of you needs me, joel, that why you were so fucking insistent on pushing me away.”
He freezes at your observation, words that are sharp, and true. Gritting his teeth, with his chest rising and falling, all he could do was breathe heavily.
“But me? I have options, time too. To find someone who would be proud to show me off. But you won't, you’re scared Joel, and it's because you're insecure.”
He feared this, thinking about you with men your own age, how they threw themselves at you, fit and capable of taking you out and giving you everything you ever wanted. Joel was selfish for wanting you all to himself, for craving you, obsessing and unable to let you move on. Because as long as even a part of you still wanted him, he was worth something. The grey hairs didn't matter, nor did his softening belly or the developing ache in his worn knees.
He hated how much he needed you.
You grip his chin, the salt and pepper scruff tickles your palm. Forcing him to look at you. “Say it Joel.”
His entire body tenses as you try to force the admission out of him, try to cut him open and deflower his tightly wound emotions. “Stop it.” He growls weakly, voice strained.
“Admit it!” You shout at him.
Every part of him begged for him to let go of this stubborn defiance and tell you how he felt, that he felt afraid, even though all he'd known was keeping you at arm's length. “Stop!”
With another harsh shove, you growl. “Just admit it!”
“Admit what? That I'm insecure, that I’m afraid of losing you? That every moment all I can think about is you, how much I fucking love you? What are you tryin’ to get out of me, huh?”
As his chest heaves, he can't help spilling out how he felt now, you broke the dam. “I worry that you'll find some other man to love you, touch you. That you'll come to your senses and realise you need someone your own age who is better able to take care of you.”
“So you broke my heart? That's how you face those fears?”
“The hell was I supposed to do?” With a defensive snap, he hated the weakness he felt now that you’d expelled the truth.
When you don't have an answer Joel is becoming more desperate for you to feel something for him, to let him know that there's still some space in your heart for him after all hed done.”Baby girl..” he whimpers, voice cracking with emotion..
“Don’t,” you protest weakly.
Joel realises that you don’t need him like this, all self doubting, you need your daddy.
He cages your body between his own and the car. “Too damn bad, because I’m touchin you, you ain’t rejectin’ me, you ain't gonna ignore me.” He leans his head down to your level. “And you sure as shit aint ever fucking leavin’ me.”
As he slams his hips against yours, finally a pathetically small whimper leaves your lips.
There it was, you were giving into him, that pretty sound he hadn't heard from you in weeks. “There's my pretty girl,” he whispers against the soft flesh of your neck.
“Don't fight me baby girl..” his lips on your neck have your back arching away from the car, leaning flush against Joel’s chest, but he doesn't want you to have any semblance of control. Roughly, he spins you around and shoves your body against the car, his chest flush against your back.
His hands unzip his jeans, pulling out his thick cock for a second time this evening, lifting your dress up to find you weren't wearing any panties at all, his eyes barely able to process the sight of your bare sopping cunt under the haphazard dim street light. “You knew what you were doin’ to me baby, wearing this tight dress and no panties.”
The palm of his hand smacks your wet lips, using the slick to coat his cock as he pumps it a few times.
His cock is thicker than you remember and you whine at the protrusion, forcing his cock inside of you as he forces you against the side of your car. A yelp leaves your lips and he quickly covers your mouth with his large hand. “Shh baby girl.. Daddy is gonna take you in the middle of the street, as a punishment for your actions. Don't want nobody to hear, do we?”
Frantically, you shake your head no, and he shakily praises you. “That's a good girl.”
Without any warning at all, he slams his cock into you, pushing your face into the car as he rams into you ferociously, fucking into you so deep that your eyesight starts to blur. “Think you can leave me? No body ain’t ever gonna fuck you like I do, baby girl.”
You squeal into his hand as he fucks you harder than he ever had, proving to you and himself that he was worthy of you. As your legs begin to tremble, Joel brings his other hand to pinch your nipple, and the orgasm crashes over you in waves, the feeling is intense and your body is limp between Joel and the car. Tears leave your eyes as your cunt clenches around Joel.
Joel's muttering under his breath. “That's it baby.. Make daddy feel so good. I'll kill anyone if they ever try to take you away.”
His thick cock pushes so deep inside of you for a final time as the tip twitches and he cums inside of you. Growling into your ear as his forehead rests on your shoulder.
Hesitant to pull out, he thrusts a few more times into you, making sure most of his cum stays inside you.
Pulling your dress down, he stuffs his cock back into his jeans and turns you around, wiping the steady tears off your cheeks. “Now go on back inside, alright? We’re going on a date tomorrow, a real one. Take you to a fancy place where we’ll sit down an’ eat. Just us. Daddy ain’t gonna leave you again, so that means you start wearin’ your collar again.”
Numbly, you nod, unable to form coherent words after the encounter. Pleased, he kisses your forehead, then gives your ass a light pat to send you on your way back inside your house. He stalks you down the street, making sure you get home safely, before retreating into his own house.
He watches you from his bedroom window as you turn on the dim lamp, and put on your silver collar just as he’d asked. He had his baby back, hell would freeze over before anything came between you, if your father found out.. Joel would handle him when it came to that.
No matter what that entails.
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sttoru · 9 months ago
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⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. boothill spending a nice, sunny day on the ranch with his family !
tags. pre-cyborg!boothill x wife!female reader. fluff, one tiny hint of angst. sfw. daughter is adopted. based on boothill’s lore. reader gets called ‘mama/momma’. i shed a tear writing this
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“aye, yer getting good, kiddo.” boothill grins as he humors his daughter. he’s sitting on a patch of grass underneath an old tree, with his little girl sitting on his lap. his stetson hat lays low on his head, a piece of straw grass between his teeth.
days like these are the reason why he cherishes life. peaceful days where his wife and kid are the only ones surrounding him. home is where he belongs; with his daughter playing the tiny guitar he made her from scratch.
well—more like she’s beating it up.
���dada! dada!” she squeals as she harshly pats the strings, creating an unsatisfactory sound that would make anyone in the vicinity cringe. though, to boothill the sound is a sign of life. of his beloved child being carefree and happy.
the cowboy runs his fingers through the girl’s locks, admiring the little bundle of joy that’s been bestowed upon him. ever since he took her in, life’s been nothing but joyful. “adorable, ain’t ya?” boothill mumbles to no one in particular.
a warm breeze lifts his bangs ever so slightly, revealing those unique eyes of his. they’re filled with nothing but admiration for his daughter. perhaps also a hint of bittersweet warmth.
she’s growing up so fast.
“honey, dinner’s ready!” your voice makes both boothill and the child look up. boothill’s signature smirk only widens the moment you come out of the main house, wiping your hands off with your apron. you look stunning underneath the orange-ish sky. you’re also a reminder of how good boothill has it.
boothill nods and squeezes his daughter’s cheeks, gaining a small giggle at the touch. the calluses on his hands are a contrast to her smooth skin. the chubbiness in her cheeks is absolutely adorable to the white and black-haired man.
“oh, ya hear that? y’r momma made us some food,” boothill pokes the girl’s sides, which makes her laugh again. his favorite sound. she abandons her guitar and stands up, her legs still somewhat wobbly. she had only recently learnt how to walk on her own after all.
“mama!” the kid repeats, reaching her tiny hands out to your figure in the distance. you smile at the sight and crouch down, spreading your arms as you encourage her to walk towards you.
you nod and let out a small chuckle, “hi, baby! c’mon— come to mama!”
your daughter gasps and tries to find her balance before she sets another step. boothill watches her with a fond smile, his hands ready to catch her if she were to fall. though, there doesn’t seem to be any need for those precautions.
she waddles over to you in no time. her little gasps and pants as she tries to run melt the cowboy’s heart. he gets up and walks behind the tiny girl, a sudden mischievous grin on his face.
“heh,” boothill chuckles before acting like he’s going to run after her and catch her if she doesn’t run away from him, “better run before i catch ya!”
the child takes the light-hearted threat seriously and squeals at the sight of her father figure ‘running’ after her. her legs take her towards you as fast as they can, working overtime to reach the other side of the ranch, “waaaaaah!”
you laugh at the sight of your husband chasing after the little girl. he’s good with children—to your utter surprise. before boothill came home with the abandoned baby, you didn’t know if he’d have the skills to care for children. he is blunt, straightforward and rough in some ways.
however, your worries were soon to be proven wrong. it’s like boothill’s destined to be a girl dad. that’s how well he can get along with your adoptive daughter. it was difficult for him at first, but with some trial and error, he’s turned into a great father figure.
“got’cha!” boothill exclaims as he scoops the small child up in his arms the second she got close to you. he tickles her sides and she squirms—giggling like she’s never done before.
“nooooo!” she tries to protest between laughs, but it seems to be an impossible task. her little legs kick wildly in boothill’s embrace, but he doesn’t let up. he puts her over his shoulder and wraps his free arm around your waist, pulling you close to him.
“the food smells good, babe,” boothill whispers and kisses the top of your head. the smell of your delicious cooking makes his mouth water. he pinches your cheek and flashes you that charming grin of his not a second later, “bet it tastes fuckin’ amazing too.”
“language, honey,” you roll your eyes playfully and slap boothill’s bicep as a reminder. he simply shrugs and laughs menacingly.
you walk back with him into the house, one hand of his resting on your waist, whilst the other secures your (still squealing) daughter on his shoulder.
the sun setting gives the sky beautiful colors. orange, purple, yellow and a bit of red. it adds to the beauty of this moment—a family of three living happily ever after on their ranch—with nothing or no one to ruin their lives.
or so they thought.
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lady-djarin · 7 months ago
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on my radar
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joel miller x f!reader (one shot)
warnings/tags: edited very little so sorry! dual pov, jackson era dark!joel, SMUT (oral fem receiving, p in v), stalker behavior from mr miller, age gap (50s/20s), joel is kind of a creep but reader is kinda into it, murder off screen, cannon typical violence, men harassing women (a guy is gross with reader/unwanted touching etc) NO R*PE, possessive talk and nicknames (mine, love, my girl, good girl etc), reader can be lifted by mr big man joel but otherwise no really specific details about readers body other than the usual fem. 18+ minors be gone!,
word count: 5.8k
* 。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆ 。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆
YOU
You almost dropped it twice, your gloved fingers slipped around the smooth metal of the gun as you fumbled to pull the trigger. The clicker was quickly stumbling toward you even on its one and a half limbs. You and your patrol partner got separated when a small swarm of the dead caught you both off guard in a densely wooded area . As you were trapped in a corner of a hunting shed by the crawling thing, you felt your heart rate begin to rise and the feeling of dread set in that this might be your last moment.
You saw the blood hit your gloves before you even heard the blade hack into its head. Then the body hit the floor.
You looked up to find your patrol partner standing there with a machete clutched in his hand. He was looming over you with a look very close to anger creasing his brows and his chest heaving in exhaustion. He grabbed the gun out of your hand and grabbed your arm to pull you away from the writhing body. He hacked the large blade into the neck to fully decapitate the head then stabbed into the ear to finally kill it.
“Do you even know how to use this thing?” His voice had an edge to it, like he was mad, or scared as he held up the gun in your face.
You looked at him with tears brimming your lash line, the cold was seeming to freeze them before they tried to fall down your cheek. “Yeah, pretty much.”
“Have you ever been on patrol?” His eyes narrowed as they scanned your face, then your body.
“No.” Your mouth was so dry.
“Who sent you on patrol!? What the hell…,” he grumbled as he turned away. “I asked you a question.” He shot another nasty glare your way when you didn’t answer.
His statement kind of shocked you, not a lot of people are blunt like that.
“Uhm, I asked Tommy, I wanted to help.”
“Fucking Tommy, sticking me with a kid.”
“Hey I might be new to this but I'm not a kid,” you chased after him and that didn't help your defense.
“Jesus…,” he was grumbling again and marching away, toward where you hid the horses. The two of you set out on patrol a couple hours before, your first time outside the gates in Jackson. You had heard rumors about Joel, people said he was ‘rough around the edges but good people’. You had seen him around the community and wondered if he was someone you could get along with. He seemed like he was an outsider, kind of like you. When you learned you were partnered with him you figured it was going to be difficult, but this was a little much.
You were on your way through the state trying to get to where your dad lived in Sundance when you ran into some trouble near their camp and they took you in until you recovered. They stitched you up after they found a nasty gash on your ribs when you were discovered fighting off a pack of stalkers. After arriving at the Jackson community, you learned that Sundance was completely overrun. The sparse community there hunkered down in their homes after the outbreak but with the large swarms that came through the area, pretty much everyone fled and went their own ways. You could barely stand the thought that your dad was caught in the middle but he was strong, he could find his way out.
He had to.
So you remained in Jackson, becoming a part of the community, and everyone in the community had to help out somehow. You felt indebted to Tommy and the community for helping you and making you feel at home here after your recovery. That's why you wanted to go on patrol, you felt like you could help. Joel clearly didn't agree.
That last fucking thing he wanted to do was teach some rookie how to handle themselves on patrol. He was pissed and you could see it in the tense bunching of his shoulders as he rode on in front of you. You felt kind of bad for having Joel take care of you back there but he didn't have to be such an ass about it.
“Hey,” you rode up next to him. “Look I know I'm not who you wanted to be on patrol with but just give me a chance ok? I'm just trying to do a job here.”
He barely looked your way, he just kind of grunted before urging his horse over the final path into Jackson.
Alright then.
You didn't see those broad hunching shoulders for a couple days after, though he clearly had been talking about you. Tommy took you off patrol so Joel obviously made his concerns clear to his brother. When you did see him it was from across a room or passing in the street, but even in brief passes it felt like a tension was always present. His brows would bunch in the middle as he scanned you. It always felt like a judgment maybe, or some kind of disgust the way he would observe you. You quite honestly thought he hated you.
JOEL
You looked cute when you were mad, actually to Joel you always looked cute. Your cheeks were pink with the morning cold, your breath steamed in the air as you huffed through your nose. You were mad because he was ignoring you, and he was ignoring you because he was scared shitless when he came into that hunting hide and found you cornered by one of the dead. It scared the living shit out of him to think about how you were almost torn apart.
He doesn't remember the exact day that he started to care a little too much about you, it was a slow thing. It took over his life, watching you as you became integrated into the fabric of the town. The people of Jackson welcomed you and you welcomed them right back. People loved you and you got along with pretty much everyone. He started to notice you when he saw you and Ellie chatting about something girl related in the mess hall. He noticed how you seemed to genuinely invested in your conversation with Ellie, hanging on to her every word. Next thing he knows he's thinking about you every waking hour, and you haunt most of his dreams. It feels like you are a presence in his chest that he can't carve out and he has tried.
Joel had tried to occupy himself by relieving the tension himself, trying to dissolve the desire he had for you. It didn't work, of course, but he couldn't help himself.
He refused to actually make any kind of relationship with you, he felt like it would look inappropriate. He was a grumpy gray haired man and you were young and bright, he felt like he would be too rough for you anyway. He was a broken man, his hands were dirty with death and guilt and blood. He could see the innocence in your eyes, the way you smiled with your whole heart when talking to people, especially someone he cares for.
Maybe those were the moments he truly started to have real feelings for you, seeing the way you cared for Ellie. Everytime he would see you it made his heart skip a beat, it almost confused him at first, like his heart was waking up from a decades long nap. His chest hurt with how intensely he was starting to ache without you near, it only ever stopped when he saw you or felt you close or smelled your shampoo as you walked by. It was the same as everyone else as there was a lady in Jackson who made everyone soap but still when it lingered after you it smelled like heaven to Joel.
All that to say, Joel still felt like it was wrong to pursue you. You were and always will be the one that got away.
He needed to stay away.
YOU
It had been a couple weeks or so, maybe longer since you saw those grumpy brown eyes. You had started to miss him, as painful as it was to admit. Even though he was barely a colleague, definitely not a friend, you were missing the way… he was mean to you? No, that can’t be right. Why would you miss a man that is anything but nice around you?
Tommy had found you another job working at the local watering hole/dining hall, as the patrol thing clearly wasn’t going to work. He was walking you around the hall, introducing you to the people you would be working with when you heard a familiar voice.
“Hey Tommy, you here?”
“Yea Joel, in here.”
Shit.
“Oh hey Joel…” You wanted to keel over and die.
”H-hey.” He seemed… odd.
They chatted about something security related and you were introduced to the hall supervisor. As you talked on one end of the room, Joel and Tommy were on the other and it felt like neither of you could look away from the other. Your eyes kept finding each other, each time it felt longer and longer, like the world was falling away. It felt much different than the last time you spoke, like he might not actually hate you. It was an odd feeling, having his eyes on you, he was almost predatory.
Even as he looked over what felt like every couple seconds, he still had this pinched, angry look on his face.
But it was hard to look away. Joel was mesmerizing but you knew deep down he could never be interested the way you would want him to be. He was a grumpy older man that wanted nothing to do with the new young girl in town.
You didn’t see him for a while after that.
JOEL
Joel Miller was by no means a good man. A good man wouldn’t be watching you like this, following an unsuspecting woman around town. A good man wouldn’t watch you as you walked around the Jackson streets, minding your business, talking to your new found friends.
Ever since seeing you again at the dining hall he couldn’t rid his mind of you, as hard as he tried. He knew he would ruin you if you let him, if he even got one taste he would be addicted. Not like he wasn’t now, leering at you talking to patrons at your job. He felt dirty in a way, like he wasn’t allowed to look, not allowed to have the urge to bash in the head of any man who looks at you wrong. Like the guy you were helping now, Mike, every time you turned away to get him what he asked for, he could see his slimy gaze caressing your curves.
He felt like he was going crazy, not being able to be near you like he truly wants. He wasn’t sleeping well, barely eating enough to keep him upright and almost missed patrol on more than one occasion. His mind was playing tricks on him, he would find you in dreams, wake up to find you cooking breakfast in his kitchen or walking hand in hand down the streets of Jackson. The cruel reality that he would never have that always hit him hard in the morning when the sunlight came streaming over his bedspread.
He often found himself turning over, searching for you.
Sometimes they were nightmares, visions of you being attacked by the dead or one of Jackson’s very own.
That’s why he was here, making sure you were safe from the dangers of this world. It was his job.
He was there until you got off work, gathering your belongings and heading out the door when Mike popped around the corner. Joel was immediately on high alert, watching the man’s every move as he advanced on an unsuspecting you. He stalked after the two of you, staying just out of sight. His blood boiled when he saw Mike call after you.
She’s mine, he thought.
He stayed across the street, just in case things went sideways. In case he put his hands on what didn’t belong to him.
“Hey! Saw ya leaving work, how was your night?” Ok, nice enough but Joel knew he was clearly waiting for you to leave work.
“It was ok, just tired and ready to go home.” You were being polite but clearly trying to convey that you were going home, alone. That’s my girl.
“I’d like to talk to ya though, ya know i’ve seen ya ‘round and think you’re real cute. Come on, please? One chance?” He’s persistent, that's for sure. Walking the line there, Mike.
“That’s sweet but I’m not really looking for anyone right now, I just got here a few months ago…” You kept walking and you kept your eye contact away from him, smart girl.
“If you give me a chance I’ll show ya I’m worth it. I promise baby.” You were not his baby.
“I’m not your baby, Mike. Please, I just want to go home.” You turned towards him now with determination in your tired eyes.
Mike clearly wasn’t hearing you, or just not caring because as you tried to turn away he grabbed your arm and pinned your back against a wall.
He’s dead.
YOU
I’m dead. This stupid asshole is going to kill me. Your mind was racing as you looked for ways out. Mike’s front was almost completely pushed against yours now as he trapped you against the brick wall. You could now smell the alcohol on his breath now that he was on top of you. You tried to break free, maybe he was drunk enough where you could shake him off. You could tell that wasn’t the case when he groaned in delight.
“Mhmm, keep doing that baby. I like feeling ya move that pretty body.” You wanted to puke, his greasy beard and sour breath was assaulting your space. You froze your body in an attempt to get him off you but he leaned in, trying to capture your lips. You whipped your head to the side and squeezed your eyes shut trying to block out whatever he might do next. Only, when you expected his lips or something on you, there was nothing. His entire weight was gone and you almost slumped to the floor in relief. When you opened your eyes, there was nothing, no one in sight, not even a sound. Mike was nowhere to be seen, nor was anyone else. If you weren’t so relieved that the creep was gone, you’d be freaked out. It felt like one of those eerie horror movies you watched before the word turned into one itself.
You weren’t really sure what else to do other than go home. You walked the quiet streets towards your small house and barricaded your door that night, just to be safe.
…..
“Have you heard?! I can’t believe it!” Angela’s voice shook you out of your tired daze. No matter how you tried to occupy your mind or sleep last night you couldn’t shake what Mike did to you. “It was Mike! That’s who it was that was found behind the dinner hall.”
Mike? Did you hear her right?
“Wait, Mike, like creepy Mike?”
“Yes!” Angela never learned how to not raise her voice.
Mike was dead. He was dead behind where you worked after he assaulted you. That seemed… convenient. Did that make you a bad person?
“They are calling everyone to the town hall for an announcement.” This was the only time they have done this in the short time you’ve been here.
Everyone walked over and filled the hall wall to wall. Tommy, Maria and a few other members in charge of running Jackson stood on the stage of the building that looked to once be a school auditorium, including Joel. Your eyes caught him up there as soon as you walked in, recognizing his brown curls anywhere. Tommy walked up to the top of the stage and everyone immediately quieted down, they clearly respected him.
“Hey ya’ll… Uh, unfortunately it's not good news that calls us together today.” He was clearly nervous. “One of our own is gone, Mike Walton. Now I know in this world losing someone happens more often than we would expect but this one is different. It happened in our walls and we think, committed by one of our own.”
Murder. He was killed. Fuck.
The crowd was starting to murmur and quietly panic. You felt responsible somehow, like you being the last one to see him, you think, meant… something. You had to tell them what happened last night, if only to make sure they know now instead of finding out some other way. So they know you're not hiding anything.
You stayed after the crowd cleared, listened to Tommy assure everyone that they are safe and he is putting security measures in place. You went up to the stage and caught Maria’s attention, you felt comfortable with her and maybe she would be more understanding. She really helped you assimilate when you recovered and felt kind of like a sister in a way.
“Hey sweetie, how ya doing?”
“I need… I need to tell you something.”
She took you to a more private area and you told her what happened the night before. She listened dutifully as you recounted your story and it really made it strangely better to talk about it. It was by no means easy to forget but knowing someone was listening helped. After you finished and she gave you a reassuring hug, she brought you back to Tommy… and Joel.
“Ok hon, I will need to tell Tommy about this, I’ll only include the necessary things.” You nodded knowing you could trust both of them with the news. “Joel, would you be able to walk her home? I don’t want to take any chances here.” Maria did say to you privately that she was going to treat this as if you were in danger in some way, in case this turned out to be about you.
He only nodded in your direction, extending his arm, signaling you to lead the way. You walked the streets, the silent tall man trailing behind you. You stopped so abruptly that Joel backed up in surprise.
“I don’t need you walking behind me like a bodyguard.”
“Where should I walk?” His voice dripped with something dark.
“W-well…I don’t know, next to me like a normal person?”
All he does is silently walk up to you and nod forward urging you on. You kept walking, feeling Joel’s arm brush up against yours and the tension was building before either of you said anything. You arrived at your building in silence and he walked you up the steps, more than you were expecting from the distant man. You paused as you opened the door and realized something, if Maria is right and someone is after you, they could be in your house.
“Y’ok?” His voice was low and rough.
“Uh… actually, no. Joel, would you be able to come in… and uh, check it out? Just to make sure, I don’t know…someone’s not— not in there?”
You swore his eyes softened at your nervous request, maybe he felt bad. He followed you inside and had you wait by the door as he surveyed the rest of the house. He came back within only a few minutes and you were relieved it was quiet in the house.
“You’re all good here darlin’,” he stood by the kitchen counter almost like he was avoiding leaving.
But you didn’t want him to leave.
JOEL
He knew no one would be in your house, there was no one after you. Except him. He saw Mike put his hands and other parts on you and something flipped in his brain. He went feral and had been looking for an opportunity to take this guy out. He was a menace to the community but Tommy said there was no legitimate reason. Usually he wanted a blatant offense to take action or even exile someone. Mike was sneaky, that was the problem, he was good at hiding his deplorable behavior towards women behind being friendly with most of the male Jackson population.
Joel was so sick of it, and he likes to pretend that’s why he was there that night, not that he couldn’t keep his eyes off you. For weeks now he had been everywhere you were, coincidence of course. He needed to make sure that you were safe, that someone would be there for you. Even if he couldn’t have you, he needed to watch over you. You had completely consumed his life, every waking and sleeping hour he had his mind on you.
The worst of it he thinks was a few weeks into his obsession, he found himself across the street from your house, crouched in the bushes like a maniac. He watched your silhouette as you turned about the room, picking things up, gathering our belongings and just generally going about your home life. It was so magical to him to see you living your life unencumbered by the burden of how cruel people can be. He had to make sure no one took that from you.
He was pulled from his thoughts by your sweet voice. “Joel? You ok?”
“Y-ya sorry, what did you say?”
“I asked if you wanted a drink.”
“Oh, uh- sure sweetheart.”
He watched you go over to a cabinet and pull out a dwindling bottle of something dark that made his mouth water. You had good taste.
That's my girl.
You slid over the glass with a small amount of whiskey and you each sipped it slowly.
“Thanks for walking me home, I really appreciate it.”
“No problem darlin’, but I'm sure you’re safe. No one’s gonna hurt ya.”
“Sure doesn’t feel that way.”
YOU
“I promise you, no one will ever…ever hurt you again.” The way Joel said it, it was like he had murder in his eyes. He was so intense that you believed him, like he would protect you. You felt a thrill pass down your spine from his gruff voice. He was always a rugged man with his height, his broad shoulders and intimidating dark eyes but now, he looked downright deadly.
For a minute you worried that Joel could be responsible— no he would never. Even if he did, could you really be upset at him making this community safer? Did that make you a bad person?
He was looking at you like prey he wanted to devour. It made your pulse race, it made your core throb. The tension had been growing since the walk back and it was evident to both of you. Joel circled the kitchen counter to come right in front of you. Both your glasses forgotten, he caged you in with his hands on the counter bracketing your hips. Without a word he brought a hand up to cup your cheek, his calloused skin caressed your skin much lighter than you were expecting. The only sound in the house was your heavy breathing as he stared down at you. You couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something off about Joel. Not necessarily bad but just something sharp and scary, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care as he slowly leaned down to hover his lips over yours, asking for more.
Even if Joel was a bad man, fuck it.
You leaned up slightly to meet his lips and all self control went out the window. His hands were all over you in a second, hips pressed into yours as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. Your head spun as he licked into you and nipped at your bottom lip causing a whimper to escape your lungs. It all became very frantic as he lifted you up onto the counter and bit and kissed his way down your neck. You knew there would be evidence of it the next morning and it kind of excited you to know you’d have Joel’s marks on you. His greedy hands were groping and squeezing every inch of you and you couldn’t get enough. With your own shaky hands you tried to unbutton his shirt but Joel stopped you.
“R’ya sure baby girl?” You swore you felt slick dripping down your inner thighs. “Jus’ gotta tell me and I’ll stop, ’k?”
All you could do was nod.
“I need words.”
“Y-yes,” you practically moaned.
“Good girl.” Fuck, his voice. Your hips rolled forward on the counter, trying to gain any friction. Your clit was pulsing with need and both of you were getting impatient. “Thank god, otherwise I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.” He mumbled it almost to himself.
You gasped as he pulled off the counter and led you up the stairs in silence. Any other person would think he was angry but you knew, he was anything but. He led you to your bedroom and it briefly dawned on you that he was leading you there, he knew where your bedroom was. There was always something intense about Joel, you knew that from the start, it's one of the reasons you were drawn to him. But due to recent events you were starting to question just how depraved he might be. You hated to assume anything but you somehow knew deep down that he was the one who… saved you from Mike. That’s what it was, he saved you from being killed, or worse.
Once in your bedroom Joel turned and pushed you against the wall, attaching his lips to your neck.
He hummed deep in his throat, almost a moan. “Mhmm, darlin’ you are so sweet. Y’smell so good.” He was mumbling into your throat, half kissing, half biting. You were each pulling clothes off the other, desperate to feel skin. When Joel had you completely bare for him, you tried to cover yourself, mostly out of habit.
“You… you are perfect baby.” His eyes dark with desire as he pulled your hands up his mouth and kissed your knuckles. “Don’t cover up, I wanna see ya.” He pulled your hands away as he backed you up to the bed and gently pushed you back onto the soft quilt. You stared up at him, taking in his form, he was still in his jeans but bare from the waist up. You admired his graying hair that led below his belt, mouth watering at the bulge underneath. Before you could reach for his belt, he looped his strong arms under your knees and pulled your butt toward the end of the bed. With cracking knees he knelt in front of the bed and his face became level with your dripping core. His eyes were locked on you, his lips almost matching the way you drooled between your legs.
“Joel—,” you were unable to form words, the breath perpetually caught in your throat.
“Shhh, I know hon, I gotcha,” his voice was lower than you ever heard it, something dangerous simmering below the surface.
“Joel, wait—,” he moved up your body at your request. “I just… I’m confused,” you were shaking and out of breath but you needed to ask him. “I thought you didn’t like me… it’s just every time we would see each other you seemed to avoid me at all costs and now…”
“The only reason I was acting like that was because I liked you… too much.” His eyes hovered directly over yours, deep pools of obsidian overtaken with the desire. “I thought I was protecting you, from myself. But I… I,” he almost seemed nervous in a way, but there was still the underlying grumble of anger in his chest.
“What?”
“I see now that I have to protect you from everyone else.” He said it with such a darkness settled over his face, and it took you a minute to register what he was admitting.
He killed Mike. Holy shit.
Your whole body froze and you felt your eyes widen and breath pick up. But you also had this deep feeling in your gut, was that arousal? Were you attracted to this? That dropping feeling in your stomach told you that you were. Jesus, did that make you a bad person? Fuck it.
You grasped your fingers through his hair, pulling him down to you as you attached your lips to his.
JOEL
You were a vision, puffy lips wet from kissing, eyes blown wide as your chest heaved. “You protected me?”
Oh, fuck me.
“Of course baby girl,” he needed you to know this was all for you. He was yours and you were his. “No one will take you from me.”
He worked his way down your body, kissing and nipping his way to your center again. He spread your legs and stared into your dripping folds as he got onto his knees again. You whimpered and moaned his name and he relished the sounds, he loved hearing and seeing you react to his touch. He wanted nothing more than to hear you scream his name.
“I wanna feel ya’ cum on my tongue darlin’,” he loved the way your pussy drooled for him. Joel felt like a man starved, like he was finally seeing water after a year in the desert. He licked a broad stripe up your folds then sealing his lips around your clit and sucking. You screamed and he felt your thighs wrap around his head only spurring him on further. He pulled your legs in front of him and pushed to the mattress, opening you up further for his enjoyment. When he worked two fingers into you, he knew you were close based on your shaking and whimpering.
“I-I’m so close baby,” you sounded so cute, so desperate. “I need— please Joel.”
He wanted you to fall apart, speeding up his movements he knew it wouldn’t be long now. He curled his fingers while lapping at your clit, he felt your walls flutter and tighten around his fingers.
“Cum for me angel.”
You broke. Joel’s fingers were covered in your juices and you screamed his name as you came. He kept up his movements to prolong your pleasure, he reveled in the way your legs shook with overstimulation.
“Oh… my god,” you sighed as Joel crawled his way back up to your face, slotting himself between your legs.
YOU
He entered you slowly. You could feel every vein and edge of him and you were thankful he readied you with his fingers because Joel was not a small man. He started slow, presumably for your benefit, but soon his pace picked up and the crown of his dick was hitting a spot inside of you that made you see stars.
“Fuck— You feel so good,” he puncuate each word with with his hips, each time driving you up the bed. You grabbed onto his shoulders, trying to gain leverage but you were unable to do anything except take his brutal pace. He was past holding himself back now, you swore you felt him in places you never thought possible. You recognized somewhere in the back of your mind that letting the man who… murdered someone for you fuck you into your mattress might be a bad move. Too bad he was too good at it for you to care. You felt the coil of your orgasm tightening in your lower stomach as Joel leaned back, looming over you like a dark angel.
“I want you to touch yourself,” he pulled one of your hands towards your clit. “Cum for me baby.”
You pressed and circled your fingertips into the bundle of nerves, your pleasure just seconds from cresting. Joel must have felt it because he gripped your hips and pulled you into his lap, picking up his pace and punching into your g-spot.
“Oh fuck!— I’m gonna cum baby…plea—,” you couldn’t even get the rest of the word out as your orgasm crashed into you. You think you might have blacked out as your vision went blank for a moment and you think you heard yourself screaming. Joel kept up his pace and rode you through it all.
“Mmm that’s it, that’s my good girl…,” his voice was low and gravely in your ear when he leaned over, pushing almost all his weight on top of you while he chased his high.
“P-please Joel, cum inside m-me,” his harsh movements made it hard to talk, hard to breathe. You didn’t care though, you were desperate to feel him finish inside you.
“Inside you baby? Ngh, tha—that’s my good gi—,” he didn’t finish his sentence either as he almost collapsed on top of you. You wrapped your legs around his hips and held him there as he filled you up. He grunted and groaned in your ear as he came down, he pulled out slowly making sure you were comfortable and kissed his way down your neck and chest. “Stay here baby.” You laid there unable to move and watched his naked form as he found your bathroom with ease and came back with a warm washcloth. As he cleaned you, you recalled his words, ‘my good girl’. His.
“Joel?” He didn’t respond with words, only hummed at you to continue while he cleaned your inner thighs. “Did you mean it? I’m…,” you were hesitant to speak it, what if you were wrong? What if it was something he said in the heat of the moment. You felt the bed dip and he settled beside you, towel discarded.
“Use your words honey, what’s on your mind?” He moved a bit of hair out of your face and waited patiently for you to continue.
“I’m yours? Not just tonight.” You met his gaze with timid eyes.
“Yes, of course. Y’have been since I first saw you.” He kissed you deep, lips prying yours apart. “I protected you, remember? I wasn’t gonna let anyone hurt you, especially not him.”
He looked at you with nothing but truth in his eyes. He really did kill Mike, holy shit. He did it for you. In this world maybe you could rest easier knowing you had someone to protect you like that. Joel may be a scary man, but you had nothing to fear for yourself with him around. You slept that night more soundly than you had in ten years. wrapped in the strong arms of a man who chased your nightmares away.
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erwinsvow · 1 year ago
Text
𝐬𝐮𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥
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summary: you were a pogue, and now you're a kook. just like how once you were no one's, and now you're rafe cameron's.
author's note: here it is!!! imagine like s1 rafe with the s2 hair, and basically just having a former-pogue girlfriend through out the whole season. i just think rafe would actually be such a good boyf, he just needs someone to settle him down when he gets a lil crazy. follows the sequence of s1 until about 3/4ths down, where i just started making stuff up. you might read this & think no one would act like this.. and that's fine, i know they wouldn't, but this is a self indulgent story for rafe <3 part 2 of the other seasons maybe? enjoy!!
now spinning: black beauty by lana del rey (soooooo rafe coded! he just needs a hug and some pussy!)
word count: 13.5k
warnings/tags: wheeze is a toddler for no reason. reader isn't the biggest fan of the pogues at this point in time. smut: oral (f receiving), fingering, degregation, use of daddy, rafe calls reader kid because <3, lemme know if i forgot something!
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“So that’s it? Really? Your mom is marrying a Kook and you’re moving across the island… just like that?” John B speaks to you as if you had any choice in the matter. You look at him sadly, but you’ve cried so much the last few days, it’s hard to find any more tears.  
You want to tell him, want to explain everything. The way your mom has been so lonely for years, ever since your dad passed away. The way she would pull double-shifts every week just to make sure you had the nice, trendy shoes and hot dinner every night. The way you grew up in the cut but it never felt any different than growing up in figure eight, because she took care of you.
And now it was your turn, to take care of her. Blake Richards was rich, and he wanted to take care of your mom, which meant for the first time in a long time, she would be the one being taken care of. And you owed that to her, you owed that much.
“I-I don’t really have a choice, John B. I mean, this is my mom. And she’s getting her chance to be happy. I can’t ruin it for her.”
“Yeah, I get all that but, like, does this mean you’re gonna go full-Kook on us? Because I think that would just be disturbing,” JJ says, and you crack a smile, even as you feel a tear spill down your cheek. 
“I don’t think I could ever go full-Kook.” It comes out quietly, a notch above a whisper.
“Hey, hey,” you hear John’s voice again, as he stands up to get closer to you. You feel embarrassed, the way your cheeks flush and heat up when he’s only a few inches away from you. He wipes the tear away with his thumb. “No crying, okay? Nothing has to change.”
The way he says it, you almost believe him.
“Right,” you say, still quiet. There’s a sob stuck behind your throat, and you don’t want the boys to know how upset you really are. You’ve stitched up these boys more times than you can count, set shoulders and bones and nursed bruises for them. “Nothing has to change,” you repeat, trying to convince yourself. Everything was about to change, starting with your relationship with them.
And that’s the one thing you wish could stay the same. Deep down, no matter how many times you were teased and laughed with, there was a part of you, buried away, that thought you would end up with one of these boys one day. Sweet John, funny JJ, smart Pope. Well, maybe not Pope. You’ve seen the way he stares at Kie, even when no one else notices.
But John and JJ, the possibility of being with one of them always lingered in the air. Even when they’re flirting with tourists or cracking so-called boy jokes that you just wouldn’t understand, you always thought they were your endgame.
If only you knew. 
Pope and Kiara drive up, just as you’re wiping away another tear. You’re dreading repeating everything to them, shedding more tears. 
౨ৎ
“Who is that?” Topper asks, eyeing some girl entering the club. Rafe was getting sick of Topper crying over every pretty girl he saw on the street when he was supposedly dating his sister. He hardly cared about Sarah, daddy’s favorite, but that was his family, and he wouldn’t tolerate disrespect to his family. 
“She must be fresh meat,” Kelce says, “I’ve never seen her before.”
“Tourist?” Topper questions. Rafe downs the rest of his drink. 
“Nah, man, see that guy ahead of her? That’s Blake Richards. My dad works with him, he’s a big finance guy. He’s a widower, but I guess not anymore.” 
“Step-daughter? Jesus,” Topper says. “It’s like a cheesy porno. But I wouldn’t be surprised if he married her mom to tap that, I mean-”
“Enough,” Rafe snaps. “Shouldn’t you be in a fight with my sister?” Topper blanches. 
“I mean, look at her Rafe. That is something special,” Kelce says, and then finally, Rafe lifts his head to look at you.
You look… confused. Your head is turning, taking in everything about the club, like you’d never been there before. A waiter comes up to your family with tall glasses of water, little pieces of cucumber and lemon floating around in them with ice cubes. Richards—your step-father—takes a glass and hands it to a woman who can only be your mother, with the same hair and complexion. Before he can take a glass to hand to you, you take it from the tray yourself, smiling and saying thank you. The waiter, some teenage Pogue, blushes at your affection.
When you start walking, continuing the tour, the waiter turns to look at you walk away, gawking like men do when they see something pretty. Rafe feels an overwhelming urge to punch the kid, and cover you up with his jacket. 
You’re not in anything too immodest, compared to what he’s seeing girls at the club walking around in, but it feels like it’s too much for the leering eyes that follow you. Your jean skirt comes down a little less than half-way to your thighs. Your shirt is white, with puffy sleeves and little buttons that tighten around the chest.
He sees a glimpse of cleavage, which makes his chest tighten uncomfortably, not in the way he’s used to when he sees a pretty girl. He wants to take his shirt off his back and slide it onto you, buttoning it up all the way and making sure no one else looks at you the way he’s looking at you right now.
“Rafe?” his friend calls, and he’s not sure which one. In your glancing, you turn towards Rafe and you lock eyes for a second. You must have noticed him staring. You probably think he’s crazy, but he doesn’t seem to care much at the moment. Your mother must have beckoned you, because you turn away in a second, walking towards the older couple, trailing behind them again.
“Be right back,” he says, leaving a confused Topper and Kelce behind him at the table. He cuts through the tables near the bar, entering the walkway where your family is already, but coming out of the other end. He gets there just in time to run into Richards, who’s leading the little group.
“Hi, Mr. Richards, right?” he says, holding his hand out. “Rafe Cameron.”
“Oh, Rafe, hi,” the older man replies, shaking his hand. Rafe grips hard, making sure Richards doesn’t think he has a wimpy handshake. Otherwise he’s never gonna agree to what Rafe has in mind. “I haven’t seen you in years, I mean you were half your height last time I was over at Tannyhill.”
“Crazy, right? Well I just wanted to say hi since I ran into you. How’s, uh Benny and Brax?” 
“I can’t believe you remember them, they haven’t been to Kildare in years. They’re good, yeah, Benny’s in California now, and Brax is out at law school, at Oxford.”
“Oh yeah, international law, right?”
“Yeah,” Richards says, smiling wide. “You’ve got quite a memory, son, I’ll have to tell Rafe when I see him.”
“Oh yeah, he’s around here somewhere.” Then, he makes his move. He turns his gaze to your mom first. He thinks about it briefly, but if he addresses you before her, your mom will be on guard. He knows how their minds work. “I don’t believe we’ve met before, I’m Rafe,” and he shakes your mom’s hand, but turns back to Richards for the introduction—something else in his little cheat-sheet of rules. Let dad do the talking, so he feels like he’s in control. 
“Rafe, this is my wife, Anna-”
“Nice to meet you, Rafe,” your mom smiles at him sweetly, and he smiles back. 
“-and my step-daughter.” You smile, and hold your hand out. He shakes your hand, gently, and looks at your face, because he can tell the smile is forced. He wonders why. 
“Nice to meet you.” he says, and you smile that forced way again.
“You too, Rafe.” You let go of his hand, and it’s good, because if he held on any longer, the adults would get suspicious.
“First time here?” he questions, still looking at you.
“Yes,” your mother answers, laughing, if not a little uncomfortably. “Is it that obvious?”
“Nah, it’s a lot to take in, I remember that much.” Richards smiles at him, almost beaming. He knows Rafe has been coming here since he could walk. That means the old man appreciates him trying to comfort his new family. Another step closer.
“It is,” Anna says, looking at her daughter. She has those worried eyes, the one Ward’s new wife won’t stop looking at him with. 
“Well, it’s the perfect place to be all summer. I mean, pretty much everyone our age is at the pool or the courts.” At his mention of the both of you, you look up from staring at your shoes quickly to looking right at him. He smiles. You don’t smile back. 
“Really?” Richards asks, still openly friendly.
“I mean yeah, Mister R, I remember Benny on the golf course, like, everyday. And Brax, I mean he practically taught half of us how to swim.” Richards nods and laughs, continuing small talk about his sons. Rafe sneaks another glance at you, and you look back knowingly, like you can smell his intentions from a mile away. 
“Honey?” your mom asks quietly. “Do you wanna go with Rafe?”
“What?” you reply quickly, surprised. You weren’t listening, and he tries hard not to laugh.
“Well, I can take you ‘round, introduce you to everyone. I’ll finish the tour if you and Mrs. Richards are heading up to the course?” He nods at the golf clothes your parents have on, that you are lacking. 
“I think that sounds great, right, honey?” Anna presses, and after you lock eyes with her, you nod in agreement.
“Yeah, sure,” you say quietly. Rafe smiles again.
“Great, great, yeah. Well, it was great to see you Mister R. Missus R.”
“Thank you, Rafe. Kiddo, you can ask for the car to go home when you’re ready, okay? Your mother and I are going to get dinner here.” Anna looks up confused, probably wondering how they’ll get back.
“I’ll call someone to bring the car back, honey,” he explains, and your mom smiles.
“I can also take her back,” Rafe interjects. “Tannyhill is the same direction, and I’m headed back anyways. If you wanna leave the car here.”
“Really, Rafe, that would be great, thank you.” You look even angrier than before, but the plastic smile spread over your face doesn’t faze them.
“Right, thanks, Blake. Bye mom,” you say, and then lean over to kiss her on the cheek.
You watch them walk away, chewing your cheek and turning back to Rafe with anger splashed all over your pretty features. 
“I can’t believe that worked on them,” you tell him quietly, smiling when your mom turns back to look at you before they turn the corner. Your parents were too gullible sometimes.
“Yeah, me either, kid.”
“Don’t call me that,” you reply right away. “And despite what you think, I’m not touring this place with you. I’m probably never coming back here after today.” You start walking away, in the opposite direction of your parents, when he chases behind you.
“Y’know, I don’t get you. Every girl your age lounges around here all day, and everyone else wishes they could.”
“Well, you know what they say,” you start, smiling sweetly, though he sees through it again. “Idle hands are the devil’s workshop.”
“Really?” he shrugs. “Never heard that before.”
“Yeah, you wouldn’t have.” 
“Come on, you’re not even giving me a chance. You don’t even know me.” You laugh at that.
“Yes, I do, Rafe, you just don’t recognize me.” You continue your brisk pace, looking for the exit and getting closer. He reaches out to grab your forearm, holding you back for a second. He guides you into the corner, between the hallway where there’s no one else around.
“Yeah, that so?” Rafe is almost caging you in. He’s so close you can smell his cologne and the scotch on his lips.
“I’m from Kildare, Rafe.” You try to break free of his grip, but it proves even harder than you thought. He holds you in place without even breaking a sweat.
“No, no, no, because I know every pretty girl in Kildare. And you’ve definitely never been here before, so-”
“Really? Even the ones from the cut?” You thought that would be enough to get him to drop your arm, but he doesn’t budge.
“Huh. So that’s why you’ve never been here. Old Man Richards married a Pogue and made her daughter into a Kook? Did I get that right?”
“I’m not a Kook,” you say, squirming, because you still don’t want to be trapped by him. His cologne smells good, your mind wanders and thinks, like ocean air and sandalwood. You snap out of it at once.
“Not yet, you’re not.” 
“I’m not going to be, either. A little money isn’t going to change anything for me.”
“Yeah, yeah, kid. That’s what everyone says, ‘til it does.”
“Rafe, let go of me, I said let go-” And he does let go, quickly, and your arm falls. Faint red marks appeared when he was holding on, what can only be a bruise tomorrow. He’s marked you, and you’re not half as angry as you would have thought. 
“Come on, kid, we’re finishing this tour. I promised,” he says, and the last bit is so mocking, you can’t believe mom and Blake fell for his act. 
He takes you around the entire club, shows you the restaurants, the spa, the pool. At least a handful of girls stare at the two of you walking side by side, but Rafe doesn’t look back at anyone. You don’t know how to feel about that.
The oldest Cameron isn’t a mystery to anyone in Kildare, but you don’t know anything about him besides what the boys have told you. JJ hates him, naturally, John doesn’t let you look at him in passing, and even Pope can find a few bad things to say. But right now, he’s not doing any of those things you would have expected once he found out you and your mom are from the other side of the island. The crude jokes and gold-digger comments are nowhere to be heard.
But you can’t write him off completely yet. After all, this is Rafe Cameron.
He finishes the tour on the golf course, so you can wave to your parents on the course. You’re sipping on a lemonade through a little pink straw, and he finds it hard to look away when your cheeks hollow to draw up the liquid. Your mom and Blake wave back, and you smile—genuinely—for maybe the third time that morning. 
“They’re good together,” Rafe comments, on the walk back to the front door, where his truck is waiting. 
“Do you really think that?” you ask quietly. You’re tired, he can tell, drained from trying so hard to make sure he knows you hate him. 
“Yeah, kid, I do. He’s been a widower basically my whole life. And he married your mom, so he must really love her.”
You can’t tell if he’s just saying it to get on your good side. You hope he’s not. Through all of this, all the crying and the suffering and how much you miss your old life and your friends, if your mom doesn’t at least end up happy, it’ll all have been for nothing. You feel more tears brewing.
“Thanks, Rafe,” you end up saying quietly, as you put on the seat belt in the passenger seat of his truck. His music plays softly in the background of the drive - rap, something you've heard before but can't place - back to Blake’s house. With your window down, you stare out of it and try to pay attention to the breeze in your hair rather than the entirely overwhelming scent of Rafe, which is all-consuming in his car.
Rafe turns to look at you every few minutes. You look perfectly in place in his car, leaning against the panel with your eyes closed. That means you trust him, even though every word you say makes him think otherwise.
Your eyes flutter open when he puts the car in park, outside the door to your house. 
“Home sweet home, kid,” you hear his voice in your ear, but he sounds closer than he should be. When you turn to look, he’s leaning over you and so close to you, you feel the heat radiating from his body. 
“What’re you doing?” you ask quickly, heartbeat picking up and rocketing off. 
“M’just getting the door for you, kid.” His arm flexes, only an inch or two away from your chest, pulling the handle and swinging open the door. He leans back into his seat, smirking. “Why, what'd ya think I was gonna do?”
You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in and swallow uncomfortably. Your throat feels dry and your palms are suddenly clammy.
“Nothing.” 
“Sure. Whatever you say.”
You climb out of his car, shoes hitting the ground a little too hard. He strains his neck, trying to make sure you’re okay. 
“Thanks for the ride,” you say, not meeting his eyes, closing the door behind you. 
“Anytime, kid. I’ll be seeing you around.”
You thought he would take over the second the passenger-side door was shut, but he doesn’t. He stays and watches you fix your skirt that had ridden-up on the drive, and walk into the front door, glancing behind you, just for a second, before going inside. And then you hear the roar of the engine, only after the door was closed and you were safely inside.
౨ৎ
You didn’t take it literally, that you would be seeing him again. Rafe seems like the type to play with his toys and get bored before long, but true to his word, you see him days later. And to his luck, you were feeling even worse than the first time you met him.
The morning started like any other—showering in a bathroom that’s just yours, and no one else’s, and attached to your bedroom. You can hardly remember the years when your dad was alive, but after he passed, you and your mom moved into a tiny two-bed, one-bath with your mom’s best friend. You were there for the next five years, until she got married and moved out, and it was just the two of you. But even in all the years since, you’ve never had your own bathroom until now. 
You shower as long as you want, whenever you want. Your room is in a completely different hallway than the master, where Blake and your mom sleep. You blast music at night, singing along off-tune from the bathroom, and would stay on the phone for hours with your friends. If anyone answered your calls anymore. 
It’s been three weeks since you broke the news to everyone that you were moving. Two weeks since you actually moved. One week since Rafe walked you around the country club and drove you back home, like you belonged to him. In that time, you’ve driven down to the Chateau twice, walked by Kie’s house, which is now just a few blocks away, and texted multiple times—all with no responses. At first you panic, thinking something’s happened, but then you realize this was what always happened. When you’re off on an adventure, you don’t think about who’s waiting for you back at home.
That’s what’s running through your mind when you run into Rafe again that day.
You had showered without interruption, taking your time doing your hair up just because you felt like it. There was no work to be done, no chores assigned to you anymore. Breakfast was always prepared when you went downstairs, so you took your time getting ready now. 
You missed a lot of things about your old life, but the limited time and constant rushing and anxiety were not among them. 
Your clothes were picked out with the anticipation of seeing your best friends again, your favorite overalls from the thrift store—which had been bought when you were still two sizes too small for them, and had been baggy on you until last year, but they were such a steal your mother refused to let you put them back—and a yellow shirt to match your ratty, yellow converse. They had been washed so many times they were more brown than yellow, but it didn’t matter much. 
This outfit was the old you, and it brought up feelings inside you that nothing in figure eight could change. You wore it because you wouldn’t look any different to your friends in this outfit, and for maybe a few hours, you wouldn’t be the girl in the fancy house with the country club membership anymore.
“You look nice, sweetie,” your mom says, when you head downstairs. She’s drinking her coffee at the table, your step-dad nowhere to be found. It’s eleven in the morning and she’s just woken up too, in her robe and slippers, and you smile, watching her more relaxed than you’ve seen in years.
You swing by her side of the table to give her a kiss, and steal a piece of toast from her plate. You’re relieved she doesn’t mention your clothes, not when she keeps offering to take you shopping with Blake’s money, which you keep refusing, but is getting more tempting every time you step in a puddle in these shoes.
“Thanks mom, I’m going to see the boys and Kie, I’ll be back later, don’t wait up!” and with that you’re gone, before you can discern the disapproving look in her eyes. 
Your junky old car, older than you by several years and still somehow the nicest thing you own—used to own, a voice chirps in the back of your head—is hidden around several fancy cars in the driveway. It’s intentional, you’re sure, and likely your mother’s doing. Nothing embarrassed her more than you handing out constant reminders of your old life to everyone around you.
And then you’re on the way to the Chateau, windows down and no music, since there was no way to connect your phone and the radio was busted by Pope a year ago, who claims he was trying to fix it. 
But it’s what happens when you get there that embarasses you the most—no one’s there, and no one will answer your call. You wait around for a half hour, trying to see if they come back, but they don’t. 
And that’s when it hits you. They were off on their adventures, and you weren’t just down the street anymore, which meant you weren’t invited. You get back in your car and slam the door, humiliated, tears falling down your face and probably ruining the makeup you had done, stupidly, this morning, because you wanted to look nice for them, like your old self for them. You don’t realize until later, after you were done crying, and seen Rafe again, that your friends didn’t want to bother you while you were adjusting to your new life. 
You feel betrayed, and the words that John had told you rattle through your head, because he was wrong. Everything had changed, and nothing would be the same. 
You take off, heading back home. There’s a big storm brewing and your Accord gets dramatic in the rain. It’s not until you cross the border back into figure eight that you realize two things. One, that you had just thought of your new house as home for the first time. And two, that you had never felt more alone. 
There’s not much to do about either of these feelings, besides stopping for the biggest bowl of ice cream you can reasonably carry back home, and eating it in your room, crying and watching You’ve Got Mail for the hundredth time.
So that’s what you do, pulling into the ice cream shop closest to home. Your car also doesn’t have the greatest functioning air conditioner, and you don’t need any more questionable stains in your seats, considering how many times JJ had borrowed it and returned it, promising you it’s nothing and that that spot in the back seat was always there!
In line, tapping your foot, calling your mom’s cell. Your eyes are puffy and your nose is red from crying. She’s not answering, but the unspoken rule of your little family is to always, always call when you’re getting ice cream in case the other wants something. You’ve only been gone something like two hours, and you can’t imagine what she’s doing that she can’t answer your phone. You dial Blake’s number, hoping he answers instead, and while it’s ringing you realize it’s your turn to order. You haven’t even looked at the menu yet. 
You turn to the people behind you, telling them they can go in front, but when you look up from your phone, you almost drop it. 
Of course it’s Rafe Cameron behind you. Of course. Who else would it be? Who else would keep catching you at your lowest moments? He’s with a little girl, who can’t be older than four or five, with dark hair and glasses, holding his hand patiently while staring up at you, while you stare at him and he stares back.
“Rafe, she said we can go in front,” she says, tugging on the hand she’s holding. 
“Yeah, Wheeze, I heard. Let’s go order and then thank this nice girl for letting us go ahead, right?” The little girl nods, and follows him up to order. Rafe looks back at you but then your step-dad answers, so you turn away, cheeks heating up. You don’t want him to see.
“Hi, what’s going on?” you hear his voice through the phone, sort of staticky and jumbled. 
“Hi, Blake, I just wanted to ask if you and mom wanted ice cream? I’m at the place… yeah, the one near the house.”
“Oh, yes, let me ask her, one second-” You hear him put the phone down, or cover the mic, and then, “Honey! Kiddo’s asking if you want ice cream.” 
You feel yourself soften a little bit at the nickname. And then you hear your mom and Blake talking back and forth, for what feels like ages. The girl behind the counter looks at you with a glare and you try to look back at her with an apologetic smile, but you’re a little fed-up from the emotional turmoil you’ve just endured. 
“Hi, sweetie, I’m okay, I had some at the club with lunch and twice in a day is just not a good idea-”
“Just get it, who cares? We can have it later tonight too-”
“What if the power goes out? It’ll melt, and then it’s just a waste of money-” Crap. You hadn’t thought of that.
“We have generators for that.” Blake picks up the phone again. “Hey, kiddo, get your mom her usual and make sure you use the card I gave you, okay?”
You hang up the phone, smiling, and then order. It feels weird, being oddly comforted by someone other than your mom or your friends for once. In your distraction, you don’t see Rafe and the little girl hovering near the freezer window that showcases all the ice cream they offer. When you’re reaching for the shiny black Amex, you hear him again. 
“I got it, kid,” Rafe says, pressing his matching card against the reader and pushing your wrist down and away. He does it so easily, without trying, just like he did in the country club. You look up at him stupidly, brain not registering what he just did and why he did it, and you don’t move for a moment. You don’t move until he leans down a little, close enough to smell that enticing cologne again but not nearly close enough. 
“I think the words you’re looking for are ‘thank you’. And you should probably get out of the way.” You blink back up at him, and he’s smirking again. You feel kind of stupid, the way he’s talking to you, but you also don’t mind as much as you thought you would. The girl behind the counter yells out Next! and that’s when Rafe takes you by the arm, just above where he had bruised you, and moves you away himself.
“You okay, kid?” he asks, and you feel yourself melt like ice cream left in your car for too long. You don’t know if he really means it, or if he really cares, but you do know Rafe Cameron needs to stop talking to you like he likes you, or you’re going to be in trouble.
“Fine, yeah. Thanks, uh, thanks for the ice cream.” You’re still blinking slowly, stupidly, stuck in a daze. You should really get it together around him. It’s a little pathetic if a strong grip and a couple of nice actions gets you acting like this. That’s a problem for another day right now.
“Is she okay, Rafe?” the little girl asks quietly from beside him. 
“No idea, Wheezie. Why don’t you sit and eat your ice cream?” he replies, and she sits down a few tables away, beginning to shovel chocolate ice cream with a tiny wooden spoon.
“Hey,” he says, and you begin to snap out of it. It’s raining outside now. You hear the pitter-patter of the drops on the roof. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, yes. I am. I just had a bad morning. Sorry.” But you don’t know what you’re apologizing for.
“Well, are you gonna talk about it and shit? ‘Cause I don’t know you that well yet but you’re kinda freaking me out right now.”
“I-I…I just-”
“You, you, you just?” he mocks, and then when tears fill your pretty eyes and he sees one slip down your face, his own eyes panic briefly. “Hey, hey, I was just joking, kid-” He pulls out a colorful chair for you, and sits you down next to Wheezie, who is still eating ice cream at an alarming rate. Your ice cream is ready at the counter, and he brings it down next to you, holding his own strawberry cone in his hand. 
“Hold this for me Wheeze,” he says, not really asking, and the little girl shakes her head right away.
“How’m I gonna eat mine then?” 
“Wheezie,” Rafe says, in a voice that you haven’t heard him use before—and then you realize how stupid you sound. You’ve talked with him twice, you don’t know anything about the voices he uses or how he sounds when he’s talking to this girl who can only be his little sister. 
“Can I have some?” Wheezie propositions back, and Rafe nods. “Okay!” she says, taking a bite of the scoop with her front teeth.
“So, y’gonna tell me what’s going on or am I gonna have to guess everything?” 
“My friends, I just keep missing them, or they keep missing me, maybe. I just wanted to see them. It’s really lonely here, that’s all.” You’re staring into his eyes, his really, really blue eyes that are currently a little alarmed and concerned, and the fact that they’re that way for you is making you a little dizzy. 
“Yeah, I get that. Sorry, kid, that’s the lay of the land, right? Not a Pogue anymore, are you?” 
“I don’t know what I am.” You feel silly and embarrassed for pouring your heart out over ice cream with Rafe Cameron. He doesn’t know you, and he never will.
“Well, right now you have a choice. You can sit here and eat ice cream with us, or you can go home and cry about it alone. But if you choose the second one, Richards and Anna will see you, or hear you, and ask about it. And I’m not gonna keep asking if you don’t wanna talk. So pick one before this shi-stuff melts, okay?” 
You nod dumbly again. You’d like to turn your brain off and let Rafe decide for you. 
“I need a spoon.” He smiles, not smirks, for a second, before getting up to get you a spoon.
A few things float through your mind while you eat ice cream with the Camerons. First, Rafe remembers your mom’s name. Second, Rafe doesn’t swear in front of his kid sister. And third, and most important of all, Rafe Cameron cares about you.
“That’s a lot of ice cream,” Wheeze, or rather—as you’ve just learned—Wheezie, comments.
“I was feeling really sad,” you reply, shoving another spoonful into your mouth, watching the little girl eye your peanut and chocolate ice cream inquisitively. “You’ll understand someday.”
“Boy problems?” she asks, and you can’t help but crack a smile. Rafe looks up from his phone momentarily 
“Not really, but a good guess. This would also apply to that situation.”
“My sister’s always got boy problems.”
“Really?” you ask, and then look up Rafe. “You have another sister?”
“Yes,” he says, in between licks of strawberry ice cream. You should really look away when he does that, because your heart rate is picking up. “And she’s even more annoying than this one.”
You laugh while Wheezie frowns.
“If I’m so annoying, why do you always take me for ice cream, huh?”
“She’s got you there, Rafe,” and you resist the urge to look at him, even when you can feel his eyes on you. 
“Because you wouldn’t stop asking, dork, that’s why.” Wheezie shrugs in reply.
“I’m not gonna finish all of this. You want some, Wheezie?” you ask, offering her your spoon. She looks back at you smiling, and then at Rafe for permission, who nods.
She digs into the pile left, while you finally give into the urge to look up at her brother again. He takes another lick of his ice cream and you look away within a second. 
“Been eating that for a while, haven’t you, Rafe?”
“Yeah.” 
Somewhere in between Wheezie eating so much of the ice cream so quickly that she gets a brain freeze, and Rafe finally tossing his half-eaten cone into the trash, it’s time to go home. And as much as you hate to admit it, you don’t want to leave. The rain is coming down hard outside, a preview of the impending hurricane.
“Drive here, kid?” he asks, as your feet hesitate by the door. 
“No,” Wheezie answers, “I came here with you, dork.”
“Not talking to you, kid,” he replies, rustling the top of her hair with his hand, getting an ugh, Rafe, in response.
“Yeah. Yes, I drove here. But my car doesn’t do so good in the rain.”
“Huh?” he questions.
“It’s old, okay. Junky. The AC is broken. And the radio. Sometimes she just stops, y’know?” You gesture to your blue car parked out front, the rusty, tiny sedan two spots down from his shiny truck.
“No, I don’t know. Richards lets you drive around in that thing?”
“She.”
“It’s a car. Barely, at that.”
“She has a name, okay. HoHo. That’s her name.”
“Alright, well, you’re gonna have to ditch the hoe, because I can’t let you drive home in a hurricane in… that.” You turn to glare at him. “Her, sorry.”
That’s how you end up soaking wet in the passenger seat of Rafe’s truck, Wheezie secured in her booster seat and Rafe even wetter than you are. He drops you home and says the two of you can go pick up your car tomorrow—if it’s still there, he adds at the end, leaning over you again to open your door. You stare at him dumbly again, which has now become a bad habit, and it’s not until Wheezie says you’re getting her wet in the back that you finally climb out and close the door. You stand behind the front door with your mom’s melted ice cream in one hand, and your phone with Rafe’s contact saved in the other, wondering what exactly just happened. 
౨ৎ
The next few weeks pass through as quickly as they came. Your car—to your chagrin and your mother’s joy—does not survive the hurricane. Blake gives you a fancy, luxury car to drive around in that he just had laying around, which you don’t believe for one second. But, your mom is pleased when you actually start driving it, and you can actually listen to music from your phone and enjoy air conditioning and the most luxurious of luxuries—a backup camera. 
The night of the ice cream shop incident, Rafe texts you. You were completely ready to wallow in bed, waiting for the text from him that never comes, drowning your sorrow in more ice cream, but he does text you. First and right away. 
R: Is it wrong if I hope hoho drowns tonight?
that’s so mean. she never did anything to you.
R: She’s kinda ugly. And what was that about no ac?
so she deserves death????
R: The impound lot at the very least
if she dies, it’ll be because YOU manifested it
R: Never thought I’d believe in that manifesting shit, but here we are
did Wheezie eat dinner after how much ice cream you let her inhale?
R: No.
R: Ur fault. You gave her yours
you gave her yours too
and btw, I offered her a bite. she ate the rest. not my fault
R: She’s five, genius
R: I’ll come around noon tomorrow. Sleep tight kid
౨ৎ
Somewhere in between picking up your car—which entailed no less than stopping for lunch, even more ice cream that you can’t stand to watch him eat, and driving through town to see how bad the damage from hurricane Agatha was, and altogether three hours together ending with a wet, heated kiss in his truck with the windows fogged up—and today, you’ve been with Rafe more times than you can count. 
And you try hard to suppress the thought that it’s just because he’s available, that the availability is the reason for your attraction. And then you catch yourself trying to justify why you want to see Rafe so much, this guy that you had just been assuming was bad because your friends told you he was bad, without much in the way of an explanation. 
But Rafe is the furthest thing from bad. He’s so sweet to you it makes you delirious. He picks you up all the time, even when you tell him you’re just at home, and your car is right there. He pays for everything, he opens every door, the gentle but teasing way he is with Wheezie makes you even more head over heels.
But most important of all, he calls you first. He texts you first. He makes you feel wanted, and you definitely, definitely, want him, so you don’t think twice before saying yes to accompanying him to Midsummers. 
You actually don’t know what it really is, besides for a big party. It was always one of the worst nights at the hospital—litters of teens with alcohol poisoning and from car accidents— so your mom would be working. When you turned eighteen, your mom paid for classes to become a junior nurse, and so busy nights like the one of Midsummers usually was, you would get called in too. So before this week, you’d never spent Midsummers doing anything other than cleaning wounds and fetching suture kits.
You tell Rafe this and he looks at you strangely, another of his looks you hadn’t seen before, with furrowed brows, and you flush and apologize, regretting even opening your mouth. 
You know you’re deeper than you thought when he takes your head between his hands and kisses you—messy, with tongue and spit left glimmering over your mouth, so much so that he wipes the corner of your mouth with his thumb when he’s done. 
“Go get yourself a pretty dress, and we’ll have fun, yeah?” You nod stupidly again, the way you’re prone to doing around him. He must have realized you get a kick out being told what to do by him, what to worry about and what to focus on. 
You finally take your mom up on the offer to go shopping. Her and your step-dad are going to this thing anyways, but you can tell she wasn’t completely sure you’d go to something so Kook-y, maybe not just yet, and she doesn’t want to push it since your mood finally seems to have picked up. But then you tell her Rafe asked you to go with him, and the two of you smile and jump around the living room, laughing like kids. She’s happy for you and you’re happy that the two of you are happy at the same time.
Rafe sends you money for a dress—enough money to pay for a month’s rent at your old place. Your mom says your step-dad insists on paying. You feel like things are coming together for the first time.
You wander the stores, trying on different dresses and feeling like a scene out of a movie until you finally find the perfect blue dress. Blue for Rafe’s eyes and his suit jacket, because you’re not embarrassed to admit to him that you want to match for Midsummers. It’s patterned with little flowers, ruffles and lace moving in the wind when you twirl, and for once, you stop feeling like you need to pick a side to be on—Pogue or Kook—and you decide just to be Rafe’s for now.
The night of the party, Rafe offers to pick you up, but you tell him you’ll come with your parents. They’re both wearing shades of peach and salmon, the three of you together look like you’re headed to a baby shower, which you and your mom laugh about in the car ride there. 
You text Rafe to let him know you’re there, and tell your parents you’re going to walk around to find him. When you glance back, they’re talking with some of Blake’s friends, people he had invited to the wedding.
You see, what you can only think, is a glimpse of Pope, in his usual waiter get up, but he disappears before you can see where he was. His father is still there, though, and you make your way through the crowd to get near him.
“Hi, Mr. Heyward,” you say, smiling and unsure if he’ll recognize you. You don’t think he’s ever seen you in anything but your overalls or scrubs. 
“How can I help yo-wait, is that you, well I’ll be damned. You’re blending right in, aren’t ya?”
“Well, it took long enough.” You suddenly feel embarrassed, because he knows the old you, the one who wouldn’t be here in a million years. “Do you know where Pope is? I thought I saw him, I just wanted to say hi.”
“He just went off that way, but if you see him, tell him I still need his help over here, just like I did before he walked away—”
“Can I help with anything?” you ask quickly, but he shakes his head and tells you the direction Pope went in.
You follow it generally, trying to see where he could have gone in such a short time. But then you see all of them, and you can’t stop your feet from running over. Kie, JJ, and Pope, all standing and talking about something, but you don’t really care about interrupting. Kie’s all dressed up too, and you suddenly don’t feel so embarrassed.
“You guys,” you feel yourself gushing. “It’s been so long,” and you go in for a hug with each of them. 
“Wow, god, you look so pretty,” Kie says, and you hug her again. You don’t realize how much you missed her. 
“You too, Kie,” your smile is so wide it starts to hurt. “Isn’t this so weird, all of us here at this party? Where’s John B?” you ask, looking around. 
“So weird,” JJ says, and you notice the bruise around his right eye because he’s turning to look at Kie again. 
“JJ, what the hell happened to your face?” JJ doesn’t answer, he actually doesn’t say anything at all, which should have been your first sign that something was wrong. You look at him quizzically, before turning to Pope.
“Pope, your dad’s looking for you, I just went over to say hi-”
“Oh crap,” he says, heading back in the direction you just came from. “Sorry, be right back.”
“W-what the hell is going on?” you question Kie and JJ, searching for any answer, desperately hoping that it isn’t we don’t wanna tell you. Your phone goes off, twice, and you pick it up. The look on your face must have been beyond palpable to your friends.
R🧸ྀི: Come inside the house
R🧸ྀི: Got a surprise for you
“I-I gotta go inside,” you say, looking at the confused faces of your friends.
“What’s inside? I thought-”
“No, nothing, I don’t know, Rafe just asked me to go inside, and I haven’t even seen him yet-”
“Rafe? What, Rafe Cameron?”
“Y-yeah?”
“What are you, with him, or something?” JJ asks, and you feel your heart fall into your stomach.
“I-I yeah, maybe. I’m here with him tonight, he-” Your phone goes off again. “I’m sorry, I have to go find him, but I’ll come find you guys right after, okay?”
You leave the two of them there, looking at each other confused, looking at you like they don’t recognize you. And it stings, for a moment, until you get inside the mansion and find Rafe hanging out by the entrance, nursing a glass of scotch and eyes lighting up when they see you. 
Everything with him is like that scene from that movie. Lights go dim, you walk in slow-motion, the room goes quiet. He watches you walk up to him and his eyes take in everything—your pretty hair, your dolled up face, the way your dress moves when you walk, and most of all, that you’re here with him. He reaches his hand out to grab you by the waist to bring you in for a kiss. It’s not like the others, it’s chaste and soft and romantic. 
“Hi,” you breathe out, resting your forehead against his.
“Hi, kid. You look fantastic,” and he presses another sweet kiss to your temple. 
“We’re matching,” you say with a smile, taking in his blue suit jacket and the way you feel dizzy right now, and you feel his grip tighten around your waist. 
“Yeah, we are. Now get in line with me, we’re walking out together.” Your eyes are big like coins, because you understood that you were coming here together, but this is his family’s big night, if everything your mom and Blake told you was to be taken seriously.
You don’t have time to say anything, because Rafe’s nice parents line up ahead of you, and his two sisters behind you. Wheezie tugs on your dress and you turn to greet her and Sarah quickly, because then the doors open and you’re walking out, following Rafe’s lead, lots and lots of eyes on you, but only one pair of blue ones you really care about. 
You almost want to cry, the whole thing is so magical. You have a flute of champagne and a sip of Rafe’s scotch, and you are deliciously tipsy for the next two hours. Your parents come over to talk to you and Rafe, and you can see how happy your mom is in her eyes. You and Rafe dance until your feet hurt, and it’s only then, when he leaves your sight, that things seem to get back down to how they normally are. 
You can’t find Wheezie’s parents or Sarah anywhere. The little girl spilled ice cream on her dress and is crying quietly, fat tears rolling down her chubby cheeks. You want to get her parents, because you think they can help, but you end up taking her to the bathroom yourself. With a damp paper towel, you wipe as much as you can, and you promise to get her another ice cream if she stops crying.
“It’s just a stain, honey, don’t worry.” You toss the dirty tissue and grab another one, wiping the tears and then letting her blow her nose. “It’ll come out when you wash it. And no one will notice because it’s so dark now, right?” She nods in agreement. “Do you wanna go find your big brother?” Another sad nod. “Let’s go honey,” and you take her hand and lead her back out. 
You’re not entirely sure what you missed in the last fifteen minutes. Everyone’s gone quiet, staring at what you hope is a trick of your eyes—all of your friends running from the party, hooting and hollering. Kiara’s parents look hopelessly upset, Mr. Heyward downright disappointed, and your mom scanning the crowd, trying to see where you are, until she spots you and Wheezie.
Her and Mrs. Cameron come running over, and you instinctively flinch, thinking the giant headpiece she’s wearing will poke you. You hand off Wheezie and turn to look at your friends, and you think, for a second, they’re waiting for you. They are, you realize slowly, waiting for you.
And you almost take off right then and there, until you feel Rafe’s warm hand on your shoulder, and you look up to see him bleeding.
At that moment, you turn right back around and head inside to the nearest room, sitting Rafe down on the bed and scrambling to find something to clean his wound with, and something cold to help the swelling, and in your panic, you don’t realize you’re rambling.
“I mean, what the hell was all of that? I turn around for two seconds and everyone’s running from the party like there’s a fire, and destroying things and throwing punches, I mean, I get they hate the whole Kook thing, but it was never like this before, even when I didn’t know you yet, and I-” you drop the frozen bag of peas onto the floor in your sudden realization. “I just let them leave. They waited for me. I didn’t go with them.” Your eyes fill with years. That’s a betrayal, not all the stupid stuff you thought was happening before tonight. They waited for you, and you turned right back around to go inside with Rafe.
“Hey, hey hey,” Rafe says quietly, taking your head in his hands again. “Hey, it’s gonna be okay.”
“You’re bleeding, Rafe,” you say, voice trembling. Your tears are ruining your makeup. 
“I’m gonna be fine. You know why?” he asks, and you feel more tears rush down. “Hey, hey, no crying.” Rafe wipes away the tears with his hand, then he brings his hands to your back and rubs soothingly. “You know why, kid?” “Why?” it comes out a whisper.
“Because you chose me. We’re gonna be fine, okay?” 
The way he says it you believe him. 
You spend the next two days at Tannyhill with Rafe, wearing nothing but his t-shirts and doing nothing but rolling around in bed. It’s been a month, maybe a little bit more, and you haven’t even had the talk yet—the sex talk. There’s no doubt in your mind that he’s not ready for it, but you’re not ready for it, not yet. You’re working on it. He doesn’t make it easy for you, either. You’ve spent hours now, making out in his lap, grinding against each other until you make a mess all over his shorts and his hair is sticking up in every direction, and working your way up to telling him what you want. 
You’re almost there. You’re waiting for the perfect time. Which was almost right now.
“You like that? Shit-” he breathes into your ear, pressing a kiss to the tender skin of your neck right underneath. It makes you moan again, louder, until he clamps a hand—the one not three fingers deep inside your leaking pussy—over your mouth, barricading the noise from leaving. “Gotta be quiet, kid, you want the whole house hearin’ what a little slut you are?” 
His blue eyes, lustful and blown, stare into your own. You shake your head softly underneath the tight grip of his palm. You’re always obedient with him, but he really likes you like this. 
“Yeah? You gonna do whatever daddy tells you? Just so I keep my fingers in this tight pussy?” You nod compliantly, head falling back on to the pillow. His fingers are thick, and the cool of his ring rubs against your clit in the best way, in ways you didn’t even realize it could feel.
He keeps fucking three fingers in and out of you, moans muffled by his hand but not completely silenced. You must be making a mess, because it’s what he keeps talking about, rambling about your messy cunt, greedy and sucking him in, and how you’ve been cumming for him like a little princess for the last two days, but it’s never enough for you. 
It’s when he removes his hand and kisses you hard instead, tongue deep inside you mouth, the metal of his chain dangling on your chin, and you feel the similarly cool metal of his ring on you, you finish again, exploding around your boyfriend’s fingers and moaning into his mouth. He hears you, repeating his name over and over again, not Rafe, but rather daddy, and he swallows your chants into his mouth. When you calm down, he makes a show of licking his fingers off while locking eyes, and then you get flustered and bury your head into his neck. 
He laughs, because it’s so cute, but only for a minute. Then you two shower together and he makes another show, but this time out of you, kneeling on the floor of his tub while he paints your face with his cum, making sure to cover the necklace you’ve been wearing recently too, the silver, loopy little R hanging between your collarbone. 
Then you get dressed—a little pink dress that’s been his favorite recently, with buttons down the front and a pretty bow where your tits sit— and the two of you have lunch with his family like nothing ever happened.
Rafe drops you back at home later that day, gives you a kiss where he grabs the back of your head to bring you in, and then waves bye to your parents as he unlatches the door for you, in his usual way. 
౨ৎ
A week later, he does the same thing. Drops you off, drives away once you’re inside, and you’re starstruck walking back, so much so, you don’t realize there’s someone waiting for you.
It’s Kie, and Rafe’s sister, Sarah. You’re a little confused since you thought the two of them didn’t get
along,  but they look like they’re fine now.
“Hey, listen, we need you to help us. Can you come down to the Chateau later tonight, after sunset?” Kie asks, and you must look as confused as you feel, because Sarah speaks right away, before you can get a word out.
“You cannot tell my brother. Promise us you won’t.”
“Why are you asking me that? Why can’t I tell him?” Sarah and Kie exchange a look, and it’s clear to you that you are missing several pieces of the puzzle. “Guys! Come on, you-you can’t expect me to just be on board with lying to my boyfriend and showing up to help you guys without knowing what it even is, right? What’s going on?”
“We will explain everything, just please promise us that you’ll come,” Kie implores and you nod hesitantly. 
“And you won’t tell Rafe?” Sarah asks again.
“Come on. Pogues for life, right?” Kie says, and you get a flashback to your life two months
ago—doing anything for your friends and dreaming of how you’d end up with one of the boys someday. It all seems like a million years ago.
“Yes, yeah, yeah, I’ll be there. I won’t tell him.”
You guess that God was on your side today. 
R🧸ྀི: Hey kid. Busy with my dad today. Dinner tomorrow okay?
sounds perfect!! don’t work too hard! i'm gonna watch a movie with my mom and blake and stay in tn
R🧸ྀི: You got mail again?
you know me so well
R🧸ྀི: Have fun princess.
You set down your phone on your dresser, feeling like you could throw up your dinner. It’s just starting to get dark outside, and you’ve just lied to Rafe for the first time since you’ve met him. It feels terrible, like something’s gnawing inside you, begging you to come clean and confess, or not to go out at all. You think about it for a moment, maybe if he knows you’re with some of your old friends, it won’t be like a real lie.
Then you remember your old friends are the ones who punched him. You tell your mom you’re going to Rafe’s, and then you get in your fancy car that Rafe helped you christen the other day—in the backseat, specifically—and drive to your old life.
You park next to the Twinkie and get out, stepping into a slush of mud. Your shoes are new, and were clean, and you cringe internally at how much you started caring about these things. You don’t want Rafe to see you with dirty shoes.
The boys and Kie are sitting on the logs near the fire pit. Sarah is sitting right next to John B, looking at him how you look at Rafe, and then you realize the magnitude of just how much you’ve missed.
“Hey,” Kie says, looking up first, smiling. “You came.”
“Yeah.” You’re at a loss for words. Everyone looks the same. Everything feels so different.
A part of you wants to sink down between Pope and JJ, crack a beer, and laugh at jokes you think you would still understand. Another part wants to get into the fancy car and drive to Tannyhill. You opt for neither, standing a few yards away and letting the light from the fire cast its hazy glow over you and all your old friends.
“Did you tell him?” Sarah asks. She means it well, not in a rude way, but that’s how you feel. 
“No, no, I didn’t. He, he thinks I’m at home. With my mom and Blake.”
“Alright,” JJ says, tossing his empty beer can. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
“Listen,” John B says, getting up and sounding too sincere for your liking. “We all appreciate you coming. Because we need a favor from you, and it might not be easy.”
“I mean, I think it’s gonna be pretty easy. Unless Rafe is like, really, really crazy, like even crazier than we already know he is-” JJ says, but stops when Kie and Pope shake their heads. “What? She knows, she’s the one dating him.”
“Know what? I don’t even know what you want from me-”
“We need a distraction. For Rafe, okay?” John B starts.
“An hour, okay, that’s all we need, right guys?” Sarah asks, looking back at everyone. They nod, trying to convince you, except Jayj.
“Well, like, maybe a couple of hours. If he’s up to that, y’know, I don’t wanna assume shit ‘bout stamina and all that-”
“JJ,” Pope says, shoving the blond’s arm. “You’re not helping.”
“What?” you breathe out, even more confused than before. You start to get what they’re asking, you just don’t want to admit it.
“We need to distract Rafe, for an hour, or like two hours, and we figured you’re our best bet.” John B says, and you look at them with your mouth falling open a little.
“You want me to…sleep with my boyfriend, to distract him, so you guys can do something that you won’t tell me about?”
“Kind of, yeah. Pretty much.”
“And is, is this thing going to hurt him in the long run? Is he going to be upset? When he finds out what happened?”
“My Kook feelings radar is a little off, right now, but who knows, I mean hell, he might not ever find out,” JJ says, and you want to sit down, because your knees feel weak, but the ground is muddy and the logs are occupied. “If we do our job right, he won’t know for a long, long time, right guys?” A chorus of right, right rings around the fire. 
“And you’re not gonna tell me what this is about at all?” 
“Well, it might not be a good idea. Because, you’re dating him, and listen, we just need like an hour, and he never has to know you were a part of this, okay? I will never tell him, none of us will,” Sarah says, and you do believe her. But you can’t believe that they’re asking you to do this.
“And if he finds out, and he breaks up with me, then what?” 
“Yeah, I, uh, knew this was a bad idea. She’s not gonna do it, guys, so let’s just reformulate-”
“Oh, you knew I was gonna say no, JJ? Lying to my boyfriend? For the people who hurt him?”
“He hurt us too, y’know,” Pope says, and you feel your heart begin to race. 
“No, I don’t know, because no one tells me anything! No one answers their phone and no one’s here when I drive down. Kie, you live two streets away from me now. The first time I saw you all month was at Midsummers and then, today. Asking me to come here to lie to Rafe, to sleep with him to distract him.”
“No, no, we shouldn’t have asked you, because I knew you would say no, I told them-” and you can’t believe the words coming from your friend's mouth. “Look at you, you went total Kook on us.” 
And then you feel like they’re taking it all in. The R around your neck, the jewelry that sparkles in the light of the fire, all yellow citrine, for Rafe’s birth month. The pink dress that’s his favorite—you put it on this morning in case you ended up back at Tannyhill tonight. And worst of all, his white button up hanging from your shoulders, smelling like ocean and sandalwood and Rafe Cameron. 
“It’s like you belong to him now.” You feel a tear sliding down, but you wipe it away. 
“Maybe that’s because he was actually there for me, when I needed it. And I get it, maybe I should have tried harder. But you guys should have too.”
The group of you stand there in silence for a moment. Your phone goes off. You know it’s Rafe. They know it is too. It starts with Kie, and then a course of apologies from everyone. John B wipes away your tears like nothing has changed. JJ scratches his head, and then hugs you tighter than he ever has before. Pope tells you how much he’s missed you, how he had to start bandaging wounds in your absence. 
“I’ll distract him. An hour, that’s all you get. I’m not sleeping with him because you guys want me to, okay? So if he leaves, he leaves.” 
You take off for Tannyhill, leaving your old life behind and risking your new one all at once.
౨ৎ
Rafe’s phone goes off again, and he lets out a short, tight breath. 
Princess: are you still busy at home? i need you
Princess: please rafey
“I’ll be back,” he tells Ward, and before he can even respond, he’s out of the room, calling you. The line rings twice, and then you answer.
“Rafey?” you sound quiet, like you’ve been crying.
“Hey, hey kid. What’s going on? I told you I was working tonight,” and then he runs a hand through his hair, because he knows he’s fucked, if you’re crying and you need him, then he’s going.
“I know, Rafe, I just really need you, I had a really bad night-” “Woah, wait, I thought you were just with your parents?”
“I was, it just got really bad, I-I’m outside Tannyhill because I had to leave, and then I got lost and I was scared so I just came straight here.”
“Lost? Jeez, kid, it’s, like, down the street.”
“But I didn’t wanna bother you, ‘cause you were busy-” and then he hears a hiccup, and then a sob.
“Okay, okay, stay there, I’m gonna come get you,” and he hangs up the call. He darts outside, spotting your navy car and you inside, still in the same clothes from this morning, just wearing his shirt over it, like a jacket. He gets close and you climb out of the car yourself, jumping into his arms and burying your face into his neck, like you always do when you get like this. He can feel the way your body shakes under his arms, the wetness of your tears on his black polo.
“Okay, it’s okay now, come on, let’s go inside.” You make it up the stairs to his bedroom, when Rafe guides you inside and pulls his blinds, so no one peeks inside. 
He sits you up on the edge of his bed, squatting before you, hands in yours, arms resting on your knees. 
“You gonna tell me what happened?” You shake your head, another tear falling. You wish you could say you were pretending, but the tears find their own way when you think about the encounter you just had. You’re lying when you tell him it’s between you and your parents, but his reaction makes you regret it instantly. “Did they say somethin’ to you? Did they try something? I’ll go over there and sort it all out, okay, kid, don’t worry about a thing.” He stands up, running another hand through his messy hair, letting it fall in the moppy way it always does, over his forehead. “Stay here, okay, princess, I’ll be back.”
Then you realize he’s gonna go over there and talk to your perfectly happy, clueless parents, so you stand up and turn him back around.
“No, no, Rafe, don’t leave,” and then you melt into a hug, taking in everything about it. Rafe rests his chin on the top of your head, his arms tight around your back. He smells so good, and the way he’s taking care of you makes you realize a couple things. “Will you just…make me forget?”
Your boyfriend looks down at you, and you don’t shy away from his gaze like you often, when you get flustered. 
“Make you forget?” he questions. 
“I just don’t wanna think about anything else,” you start, undoing the bow of your dress, more cleavage revealing itself. “I just wanna think about you,” and then your fingers undo the buttons trailing down the front of your dress. It falls off your shoulders, and you stand before him, naked, certainly not for the first time but what feels like the most intimate it’s ever been. 
There’s a pretty lingerie set hidden in the back of your closet, what you had actually put aside for this moment, but you had no time to run home and get it, so you opted for the next best thing, taking your bra and panties off in the car ride here, shoving them into your purse, and hoping that Rafe was as tempted as you were.
“Just about me?” he questions, and you take his hand into yours, leaning in to press a soft kiss against his lips.
“Just you, Rafe. I’m ready, Rafey, I want you to fuck me,” and it seems like that’s all it takes. Rafe crushes his lips against yours, kissing you how he always does, tongue in your mouth and spit everywhere. He holds you by the back of your head and your hands run through his hair. You want him closer, even closer than he already is, than he possibly could be.
His hands leave your head and go down to your ass, grabbing both cheeks roughly and wrapping your legs around his waist. He drops you on his bed, head hitting the pillow, and you pull away for a second, to catch your breath. Rafe doesn’t let it happen, gripping your cheeks between his hand and bringing you back in for another kiss. You’re naked, and he’s still completely dressed, but you don’t miss the obvious way his hardened dick presses against your bare cunt.
You can’t breathe, and all your senses are overpowered by Rafe, but you also don’t really care. You keep kissing, moaning into each other’s mouths and gripping hair and skin that’s sure to leave a bruise tomorrow, until you feel him finally pull away for a second. You catch your breath, open-mouthed and heaving, eyes locked.
“‘M only gonna ask this once, kid,” he breathes, leaving another hot kiss on your neck, which makes you spread your legs further open with instinct. “Y’sure you want this? ‘Cause there’s no going back.”
You nod in that way you always have with him, telling him everything with no words at all. 
“That’s my girl,” he breathes against your neck, and you feel him bite down into the soft skin of the flesh there. You yell out, but it turns into a moan when Rafe licks his tongue over the wound. “That’s just so you can remember this night, okay baby?” You look back up at him, wet eyes, swollen lips, and flushed, sweaty skin. 
“Thank you, daddy.” He smiles, because you’re in for it now.
“You’re welcome, kid. Shit,” he breathes out, “I knew you’d like it, little freak.” He starts with more hot kisses, all the way down your neck, down your sternum, and stopping to press a kiss to each side of your ribs, before continuing down to your stomach. You whine from your position below him, one huge hand holding your hip in place and the other tracing the pattern of the kisses down, until he finally reaches where you want him to be.
“Gotta be quiet, kid, everyone’s home. You gonna let them all hear how much of a whore you are for me? Huh?” he mocks, and you shake your head fervently. “Good girl. You’re being so good, you’re gonna get a treat, okay?” You nod stupidly.
His breath catches for a second, when he gets down to your glistening cunt. He looks up at you from his position there, your chest heaving, tits bouncing with how much you’re squirming, how much you want him to do something. He moves his hands, one resting on your breast, pinching the nipple with his finger, and the other running a line down your pussy. Your whole body twitches up when he runs the metal of his ring over your clit, because he knows you really like it. 
“Rafe, please,” you cry, sounding stupid and fucked out, even though he hasn’t started yet. “Please, please,” and your hips jerk up. He pushes them down. 
“Be patient, kid. Gotta admire this virgin pussy for the last time before I ruin it, ‘kay?” You feel your walls tighten at his words, and you hope he missed the way everything just clenched, but it’s Rafe, and he didn’t miss a thing. “Like that, huh? You like being my little slut?”
You shake your head, trying to deny it, but the damage is done.
Rafe dives in, and you let out a moan that you didn’t realize you were capable of producing. You clamp your own hand over your mouth, because you know he’ll stop if you get too loud. His tongue licks you up and down, and true to what you had always thought, he does know what he’s doing.
The hand pinching your nipples doesn’t relent, and the weight of his arm holds you down when you buck up as he pushes two fingers inside you, scissoring them to stretch your walls out. It hurts, in the best way, and before you know it, he’s added a third.
His mouth stays focused on your clit, and your legs tremble, even though it’s barely been a few minutes. It’s all of it, all at once. Being naked in Rafe’s bed, his hand groping your tits, the way he holds you down without trying, the smell of his cologne and his skin and his sweat, making you lightheaded.
His fingers push in and out, and when he hits that sweet spot inside you, the one your own fingers have never been able to reach but somehow, Rafe’s have become well acquainted with, you can’t help the noises you make.
You repeat his name over and over again, and you think you’ve felt the height of this pleasure, that nothing could surpass this feeling, until your stomach tightens in an entirely new way. Your fucked out brain gets it together for a minute, to feel the overwhelming, ecstatic pressure of Rafe’s tongue on your clit, spelling out his own name. Your stomach tightens, unbearably so, that coil winding up, but before he even finishes the F, it snaps all at once. 
You let out a scream—which you think is so stupid of you. But it feels so good, there was no way around it. Rafe reacts instantly, grabbing your hand that’s pulling his hair and using it to snap over your mouth, all while he rides you through it. 
His nose presses against your clit while he slides his fingers out, your pussy walls clamping around nothing, missing him already. He laps up the mess you just made with his tongue, the noise being so overwhelming, you want to scream again. 
You use your other hand to yank his hair, pulling him up to look at you, because you know you want to see this. Rafe, your Rafe, your boyfriend, with blown, wide eyes and the entire lower half of his face glistening with your juices, with the mess you just made, and then you collapse back down onto the bed. 
Your breathing is heavy. You aren’t sure it’ll ever go back to normal.
Rafe pulls his shirt off by grabbing it from the back, yanking it over his head. Your hand floats up to
touch his chest, to make sure he’s still real and not just a vivid sex dream, but he slaps it out of the way.
“What did I say, hm?” he asks, leaning over you. His face is just an inch too far to kiss. Your limbs feel numb, and you can’t pull him down yourself. You want to cry, because you want to kiss him so badly. “I said you had to be quiet, or everyone’s gonna know what a little whore you are.”
“I tried, daddy, I did-”
“I don’t think you tried at all, kid.”
“No, I did, I swear-”
“You’re lucky that I-” and before he finishes his sentence, you pull him down into another kiss. He tastes like you and scotch, and the combination is so intoxicating, you can’t pull away. “Hey, hey,” he breathes. “I’m not going anywhere, okay?” and the soothing way he says it, you believe him.
“I’m lucky that you what?” you ask, unbuckling his belt and snaking it off the loops.
“That I love you, and I’m not gonna punish you tonight for not listening to me.” You drop the belt over your stomach, the melt part hitting with a little clink. You look back up at him, your eyes wide, you imagine, your cheeks flushed. 
“You love me?” you ask, quietly. You can barely hear yourself over the thud of your heart pounding in your chest.
“I do,” Rafe replies, running his hand to smooth over your hair, which you’re sure is a mess now. “Enough that I’m gonna fuck you now, but I had to say it first, because I’m gonna fuck you until you break.”
You’re speechless, watching Rafe unbutton his pants and kick them off, boxers going with them. He strokes himself once, twice, and you’re still staring up at his face, even though normally you would get distracted. 
He looks up again. 
“You ready, kid?” 
“I love you, Rafey,” you say, twisting your hands around to the back of his neck, pushing him into yet another kiss. You can’t pull away, even if you want to, you want him so close that you forget everything else in the world for now. While you’re kissing, he lines himself up with your leaking pussy, which has probably ruined these sheets, and pushes in the tip.
You pull back from the kiss, just to moan, but Rafe silences you with his mouth again. He pushes in more, and more, until you’re sure he’s bottomed out. Your cunt is so, so stretched, you can’t fathom this is what you’ve been missing out on, and it feels so good, like nothing has ever felt before, not his fingers, not his tongue, not any other part of him. 
“That’s halfway, kid, you doin’ okay?” and your eyes jolt up to his in a second.
“H-half?” you breathe out. “I can’t, I can’t take any more, s’not gonna fit Rafe, not gonna fit-”
“Hey,” he repeats, which always has that calming effect on you. “You let me worry about that, okay? Just relax this pussy f’me, okay?” and the way he says it, you do, because you have no other choice. He pushes in again, fast, hard, and then pulls all the way out. You’re too scared to look anywhere but his eyes, so you stay locked in on them, until he pushes all the way in again, and your eyes clasp shut.
“Oh, oh my god, Rafe-” And you don’t care who hears you this time. He pulls out again, just his lip still inside you.
“Look, princess, look down,” he urges, and you follow his instructions, because you always do. “Look where we’re connected, yeah?” He fucks in and out of you, slowly but then faster, and you do look, entranced at the way your pussy sucks him in, the way your cum is coating his dick, at the brutal pace he’s set. 
You look until you can’t anymore, leaning back against the pillow and watching Rafe above you, his face twisted in pleasure, eyebrows furrowed, mouth panting. He buries his face into your neck, and you grip the top of his shoulders, nails digging in, because you just need to hold onto something.
He told the truth, you think, in your fucked out, blissful state, that he was going to fuck you like he hated you, battering into your sore pussy over and over again. 
You repeat his name—daddy, not Rafe—until he shuts you up with a kiss, and he watches the strings of spit connecting your mouths when he pulls away.
“Just needed this dick, didn’ya princess? Just needed daddy to think for ya?” You moan in reply. “You got it then, kid, because m’never gonna stop fucking you. Y’never gonna think about anything else again.”
And then he finally does you in, because he presses down, right below your stomach, while he slams in, and you feel something inside you break, like a flood breaking through a dam. It washes out to every part of you, from your ears to your fingers to your toes. White hot pleasure runs its course through your body, cunt tightening and shaking, eyes rolling back, your spine arching forward. Through all of it, Rafe pins you down, and fucks you through it. And finally, deliriously, you open your fucked-out eyes, looking up at him.
“I love you, daddy,” and he cums before he can even pull out, messy rivulets shooting inside you, leaking out onto his expensive sheets. He moans into your neck, and his entire body slumps forward, and you giggle under the weight.
A few minutes pass by.
“Rafey, you’re gonna crush me,” you say quietly, sing-songy. You’re so happy, you’ve forgotten everything else that’s happened.
Rafe presses a kiss to your forehead and rolls off, slumping next to you. Your head lands on his chest not a second later, his arm around your shoulder and another kiss to your hair.
“Feel better, kid?” 
“So much better, Rafey.” 
You don’t know when you fall asleep, only that you woke up to the sound of your phone going on. You pick it up, trying to turn down the light so Rafe doesn’t wake up too. There’s one message.
JJ: I thought you said you weren’t gonna sleep with him?
౨ৎ
2K notes · View notes
msmk11 · 2 months ago
Text
Barbie Dolls and T-Shirts
James Potter x fem!reader
WC: 1.1k
CW: Literally just sickeningly sweet domestic fluff. James and Reader are parents!
Summary: You and your daughter miss James while he’s away for work.
A/n: I’m too young to have a baby, I’m too young to have a baby, I’m too young to have a baby.
***
“Mama?”
You look down at your little girl who is sitting on the floor, her dolls in hand and a pout weighing down her lower lip.
“What’s wrong my darling?”
“I miss Dada,” she whimpers, her eyes- the same color as your own- filling with tears.
You tut softly and hold your arms out, beckoning her into your embrace. She waddles over, leaving the Barbie dolls behind in favor of your warm comfort and gentle pets. You scoop her up and pull her to your chest, running soothing circles across her back as she sheds fat tears down her chubby cheeks.
“I know, sweetheart. I miss Dada too. But I promise he’ll be home soon, okay? Daddy just had to go away to do some work.”
She nods tearfully and rests her head in the crook of your neck. You swoop her wild raven curls, just like her father’s, out of her face and whisper quietly to her, attempting to get her to calm down.
“What’s got you so upset all of a sudden, baby?”
“I don’t have anyone to play dolls with!” She protests pitifully.
You have to suppress a small chuckle, “Well I can play dolls with you.”
“B-but you can’t be Ken. Only Dada can!”
“I can be Ken too sweetheart, even if it isn’t as good as Dad-“
“No!” She cries out, more tears welling up in her eyes, “It has to be Dada.”
“Okay, okay, shhh, it’s okay,” you murmur into her hair, consoling her.
You fish your phone out of your pocket and find James’ contact, FaceTiming him in hopes to cheer up your woeful daughter. Your husband picks up after three rings, his handsome face filling your screen.
“Hi sweetheart, everything okay?” He asks, his soothing baritone crackling through the speaker.
“Hi Jamie. Everything’s fine here, but your baby misses you.”
You hold the phone out to your daughter and she takes it greedily, eyes focused intently on the screen, “Dada!”
“Hello my angel! How are you?” He practically coos. It makes your heart melt, and also ache a little, your own desire to have your husband back home similar to the need of your daughter’s.
She shrugs sheepishly, her little curls bouncing, “I miss you Daddy. When are you coming home?”
His face melts into a pout, “I’m sorry, sweetheart. But I’ll be home soon, yeah? You’ll be playing so much with Mama that before you know it I’ll be back.”
She sniffles sadly and nods.
“And when I get home we’ll play lots and I’ll give you lots of cuddles.”
“More than Mama?”
James chuckles, a deep rumble, “Sure sweetheart, I’ll give you more cuddles than Mama.”
You roll your eyes fondly, and smile into your daughter’s hair. She‘s a daddy’s girl through and through, often getting jealous if James gives you more attention than her. You’re not sure you can blame her.
“Oi Prongs! We gotta go,” a muffled voice shouts from off screen.
James looks towards the familiar voice of Sirius, the latter appearing on the screen moments later.
“Hi Bambi,” he greets more softly, smiling at your daughter.
“Padfoot!” She squeals, her smile widening.
“Are you causing trouble for your Mama?”
She giggles and looks at you before nodding.
“That’s my girl!” Sirius cheers, before making eye contact with you and smirking.
You huff fondly and kiss your daughter’s forehead, “Okay baby, time to say bye to Dada, he has to go back to work.”
“Bye Dada,” she murmurs, blowing him a big, wet kiss.
“Bye sweetheart, I love you,” James responds sweetly.
“I love you!” She coos back.
“I’ll talk to you later Jamie, I love you,” you add.
“I love you too, angel. I’ll see you soon,” he replies, his eyes soft and voice tender.
You hang up the phone and your daughter wiggles out of your arms onto the floor, “I guess you can play with Ken, Mama. But you have to do it like Dada!”
*****
After your daughter was born James didn’t travel much for work. He’d preferred being nearby at all times, to be there for you and your child. Only now, after a few years and a lot of convincing, did James finally allow himself to travel again. You are happy he is, knowing that he’s missed the more active part of his position. Still, you miss him more than you’d like to admit. You just try not to show it in front of your daughter so she doesn’t get more upset than like she already did earlier today.
The evenings are when you miss him most, when he’s not laying in bed with you. Your best substitute is his clothing, preferring some of his softer shirts as your choice for pjs. As you ready your daughter for bed you’re wearing one of James’ older shirts all the way back from school. It’s comfy and smells a lot like him, calming you down.
“Mama?”
“Yes baby?” You reply as you comb through her damp curls.
“Why is that shirt so big on you?” She asks curiously.
“Cause it’s Dada’s shirt.”
“Why are you wearing Dada’s clothes?” She giggles, the thought seemingly very silly to her.
You smile softly at her, “it makes me feel better when I miss Daddy, baby.”
She nods in understanding and her eyes light up, “Mama, Mama, Mama?”
“What, what, what?” You chuckle.
“Can I wear one of Daddy’s shirts too?”
You know the shirt will be way too big on her, but you have no reason to deny her, “Sure baby, let’s go pick one out.”
She runs excitedly down the hall to you and James’ room and into the closet. She bounces up and down eagerly as you sift through James’ clothes, pulling out a few for her to choose from.
“Which do you like best?”
Her eyes scan the options thoughtfully, her brow furrowing cutely.
“Mhmmm the blue one!”
“Alright, arms up.”
She lifts them obediently as you slip the blue shirt over her head. It falls down her body to her ankles and she giggles, giving you a little twirl. It might just be the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen.
“Very pretty, baby!”
“Why don’t we send Daddy a picture?”
You scoop her up into your arms and rest her on your hip. You move into the bathroom and pull out your phone, snapping a quick photo of the two of you in the mirror.
“Cheese!” She shouts and you laugh.
You: sent 1 image
You: Missing you extra <3
Jamie: This is the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen. And it’s definitely my new lock screen.
You: She looks so stinking cute, I can’t handle it.
Jamie: You look pretty cute yourself, angel. Can’t wait to have you to myself when I get back :)
You: Get your cute self home soon then, baby. I miss you. I love you.
Jamie: I miss you both so much. And love you more <3
561 notes · View notes
haikyu-mp4 · 3 months ago
Text
Cheerleader
You and Ushijima's daughter loves her uncles, for my Parenting event<3
requested by @yuu-via. word count; 405 – gn!reader
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The Ushijimas are a notorious trio, the media love your family. The dad, a handsome volleyball player known for his reliable play and stoic being, the daughter, a young girl with lungs that present a stark contrast to her dad, and you, the mother who lovingly keeps them in line.
You’re sitting in the VIP seats of an Adlers’ game, dressed to match your husband in Ushijima jerseys and cheering wildly for every point. Your daughter keeps getting featured on the recordings of these matches and there’s a good reason.
“GO DAAAAAD, YOU SLAAAY!” she yells, sounding like she has much bigger lungs than what could possibly fit in such a young child. “GET ‘EM UNCLE ROMERO! KAGEYAMA UNDERSTOOD THE ASSIGNMENT! ADLERS WINNING ERA!”
The support was endless, she was practically their mascot.
And when the match ended, she was the first one out on the court to congratulate them while you chased her in a desperate attempt not to lose her in the crowd. Luckily, you’d always find her safe in one of the players’ arms.
Like right now, Hoshiumi lifted her like she weighed nothing, throwing her briefly in the air and catching her again while she squealed. “There’s our little cheerleader.”
“You were awesome, I want to spike like you,” she whined, holding her left arm up like they would need the example of what she meant.
Romero ruffled her hair, making her swat his hands off but still smile brighter than the midday sun. “Isn’t your dad teaching you well? Guess you’ll have to come to practice with us.”
She gasped, lifting both arms in excitement as Ushijima came over to pick her up and sit her on his hip so no one would bump into her. Even now that she was older he had no problem holding her up. “That would be so cool!”
“I’m sorry my teaching has been insufficient,” Ushijima apologised, kissing her cheek simply because he knew it made her a little embarrassed.
“I want them to teach me, not you,” she argued, making Hoshiumi laugh.
“Can’t blame her.”
“Okay, let’s go home before your dad sheds a tear,” you cooed jokingly, resting a hand on Ushijima’s bicep.
As all the previous excitement lulled her to sleep on drive way home, Ushijima smiled happily when he saw her in the rearview mirror. He was glad she loved her self-appointed ‘uncles’, yet never doubted she loved him more.
masterlist
for the requester: thank you for the sweet request! hope you're having a very nice week and this came out somewhat like what you wanted<3
465 notes · View notes
chaostudee · 2 months ago
Text
i love you i'm sorry part three, charles leclerc + jude bellingham.
summary : y/n and charles tease the public on their relationship for awhile but in an after match interview jude spills all. faceclaim : cindy kimberly a/n : hope you like it <3 i spent so long trying to edit those wings onto her omgg 😭😭 also sorry i haven't been posting school is actually rly taking up most of my time rn but u will try to be more consistent xx
charlesleclerc the best weekend with the best of company
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liked by y/nusername, landonorris, carlossainz and 4,728,920 others.
carlossainz do you mean me or y/n??
user829 YES YES THIS IS WHAT WE WANT TO KNOW
username_78 BAHAHA CARLOS f1fan proof we all just want to know whether they are back together or not
user627 i spot y/nnn
user11 race was crazyyyy
f1lover YES NO ONE IS TALKING ABOUT IT user52 the overtake into turn one by charles 🤯
justaninchident jude is fuming rn
y/nusername austin gp 🏎🏁
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》 ughh imagine this being your camera roll
》 MOM AND DAD
》 stopppp
》 DON'T PLAY WITH ME Y/N
》 tweaking rn
》 this whole love triangle is so messy but i love it 🙈
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y/nusername ig dreams do come true 🫠🪽🌸
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liked by charlesleclerc, kikagomez, haileybieber and 8,516,718 others.
user728 MOTHER
username_15 oh i fearrr this is the best thing everrrr
haileybieber had the best time with you <33
y/nusername love u smm sweet girl
user891 omggg you don't know how much this means to me so so so proud of you y/n !!! you deserve this sm 🫶
y/nlover charles supporting her was the so sweet and his smile when she walked past i can'tttt
user007 omggg frrr i was screaming and kicking my feet
user52 i shed a tear
username11 the most deserving x
༘˚⋆𐙚。⋆𖦹.✧˚
messages between charles and y/n
what are we doing charles y/n
wdym charles
yk what i mean y/n
we're having fun charles
😒 y/n
what do u want me to say charles
forget it y/n
no seriously tell me charles
i want to get back together y/n
espn
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liked by justaninchident, user627, username_78 and 562,920 others.
user627 WHAT WHAT
f1fan y/n rly hurt him
username lets be real y/n never actually wanted him i'd say she just used jude to make him jealous
user72 omggg wtff did y/n do to him
username700 there is no way charles and y/n can be happy about this
f1lover poor guy
user42 the media just love to create drama so typical
y/nusername
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》 so so gorge
》 we need fit details girl !!
》 the prettiest girl
》 charles defo took this pic
judebellingham having a gf is overrated anyway.
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liked by footballfan2, user62, f1lover and 3,829,331 others.
user729 oof
username okay king speak your truth 🙌
user627 FIRST THE INTERVIEW AND NOW THIS OMG
f1fan frrr like pop off jude
user41 whatt is going onnn
username47 this has gotten so messy omds
f1lover caption is crazyyy
anon y/n is overrated anyways
username11 side note jude us hot asff
y/nusername photoshoot with vogue.
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liked by charlesleclerc, judebellingham, lilymunihe and 527,929 others.
user62 im drooling
username92 i'm so jelly of charles and jude
f1fan MOTHER !!
user51 oh she ate and she devoured
username00 and she left no crumbs
user72 care to comment on what jude said about you??
username wtff this acc none of your business leave her alone
user182 our unbothered queen
username52 vogue is a y/n stan, as they should be
charlesleclerc great weekend ! thanks to all the fans for coming out, always appreciate your support now onto the next one.
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liked by y/nusername, carlossainz, landonorris and 1,201,722 others.
username72 charles back on the podium oh yesss
user47 so ready for next week !!
f1fan amazing performance charles we love youuuu smm
username31 missed y/n at the paddock this weekend
user52 ugh me too f1lover i think she had a photoshoot this weekend sadly
f1user ferarri are so going to win the constructors
user42 no MCLAREN
username66 charles cooked this weekend
༘˚⋆𐙚。⋆𖦹.✧˚
texts between jude and y/n
do uuu sthill uve me jude
oh god are u drunk y/n
drunk? me plssss you are sooo crazyyywy jude
tell me your location and ill get charles to pick you up y/n
i don't want charless silly i want you baby jude
jude pls don't we broke up it's over between us y/n
i can't just let you go jude
you have to y/n
y/nusername back with my angel boy
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liked by charlesleclerc, rebeccadonaldson, lewishamilton and 826,920 others.
user828 GIRL JUST TELL US ARE U BACK TOGETHER WITH CHARLES OR NOT
username stop teasing usss i'm annoyed noww
f1fan awww leo and y/n
username12 the flower clip is so adorbs i need
user142 mom and son back together finally
username00 now we just need mom and dad 😭❤️
f1lover oh how i love y/n
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༘˚⋆𐙚。⋆𖦹.✧˚
judebellingham just wanted to come on here to apologize on my behaviour on here and with the media over the past few weeks. i also apologize to y/n and charles. jude.
user738 NOOO THE PR TEAM GOT TO HIM
user00 rip to unhinged jude u will be missed
f1fan the way i giggled
user72 this cant be real 😭😭
username27 oh shit he fucked up baddd
user11 plsss
username662 someone's manager is not happy
f1lover he was angry god let him live
y/nusername felt pretty.
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liked by charlesleclerc, haileybieber, oscarpiastri and 1,616,022 others.
charlesleclerc the things i want to do to you....
user72 BEING HORNY ON THE MAIN IS CRAZZYY username22 omggg charlesss wtfff f1fan screaminggg user00 oh we are so back user133 ladies and gentlemen charles leclerc
user61 holy lord
username78 most gorgoeus woman on earth
f1lover y/n is so stunning oml
user82 WE BREATHE THE SAME AIR?!?!
user90 *sighs*
charlesleclerc i'm so lucky.
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liked by y/nusername, carlossainz, oscarpiastri and 2,231,824 others.
y/nusername we're lucky*
user72 stopp they are so cute i could cry
username let's hope they are endgame this time
user23 yesss i need them to get married
f1fan will forever love them
user62 just going to go lay down on the highway brb
username12 so not jelly so not jelly :)
f1lover 💗💗
taglist⭑.ᐟ
@lottalove4evelyn
@mxryxmfooty
@hadidsworld
@llando4norris
@sweetestgirlintown111
@depressedriches
@love2readd
@janeh22
@seonghwaexile
@nichmeddar
@heavy-vettel
354 notes · View notes
aquasoftware · 5 months ago
Text
His baby. ⪩✿⪨
No warnings just Nanami being a dad (fluff) + ML.
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Girldad!Kento, who pulls the classic "Go ask your mother." When his daughter wants something but eventually gives in, shaking his head with a slight smile once she brings out the big doe eyes and pleading combo. "I'll see what I can do." He says as he acknowledges her request.
Girldad!Kento, who supports his daughter's little dreams and gives her wads of cash to start her snack business at school, then once she quickly sells out, she finds hidden colorful sticky notes at the bottom in her big tote bag telling her how proud he is.
Girldad!Kento, who teaches his daughter how to save money when he finds out she spent most of her earnings on Doordash and Roblox.
Girldad!Kento, who covers his red face in embarrassment when his daughter dolls him up for a tea party, wearing a comically large powder pink tutu paired with a plastic silver crown as she records tik-toks forcing his two left feet to dance.
Girldad!Kento, who proudly wears his daughter's homemade bracelets that she made from a gifted hobby lobby bracelet kit to work anytime he gets handed a new one, not at all caring about the idiotic snickers he gets from his co-workers. Kento's favorite bracelet that he'll forever keep safe is one that has lettered black and white charms saying "Best dad."
Girldad!Kento, who never gets tired of the crafted macaroni gifts, whether it's on a card for his birthday, a picture frame for Christmas, or a macaroni necklace for Father's Day to him, it's always the thought that counts.
Girldad!Kento, who gets spoiled by his wife and his daughter, receiving two packed lunches for work. He was intensely observant of his daughter's latest interest, which this time became those junior cooking shows eager to try out a new recipe. Yet although it wasn't the best tasting food in the world, he still scarfed down his daughter's cooking as if it were his last meal.
Girldad!Kento, who awakens to the horrified cries of his precious child, begging "Papa, there's a monster in my room; can I sleep with you and mama tonight...?" He couldn't deny that, swiftly enough you both accepted her with open arms in your shared bed.
Girldad!Kento, who encourages his child to do a sport, feeling his heart melt as his little girl picks ballet.
Girldad!Kento, who spam calls you while you're at work so you can guide him through doing makeup for her ballet recitals. "That's the last step? Okay, I promise I'll get some videos for you, honey!" He reassures you, understanding that you don't want to miss a moment.
Girldad!Kento, who humiliates his poor daughter at the recital jumping up and screaming "That's my baby!"
Girldad!Kento, who never misses a PTA meeting or a parent-teacher conference meeting.
Girldad!Kento, who knew no amount of pep talks from you could prepare him for his baby getting her first period, halfway panicking in Walgreens, snatching up every sanitary napkin possible as soon as he got the text, picking her up from school early due to how bad it got getting her favorite comfort food to cheer her up afterwards.
Girldad!Kento, whose heart absolutely shattered hearing the sentence "Papa, I'm way too old for dolls now." What did she mean she was ready to give up Monster High and Barbie's? The saddened blonde refused to let his baby grow up even though he knew he had to.
Girldad!Kento, who almost sheds a tear when he finds out other cruel kids have been picking on her, calling her ugly, so instead of a typical lecture, he gave a warm embrace reminding her how beautiful she is.
Girldad!Kento, who will sob his eyes out at every single graduation, including elementary, middle, high-school, and soon eventually college, needing at least five boxes of tissues to himself at her middle school graduation, not even being able to fathom how he'd handle her high school graduation.
Girldad!Kento, who loves his daughter unconditionally.
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8/28/24 11:59pm
807 notes · View notes
powdcr · 29 days ago
Text
you fixed it
୨୧ jinx x soft!reader
୨୧ summary: jinx fixes up your childhood stuffed animal
୨୧ word count: 1.3k
୭ ୨♡୧ ৎ
A few days ago, Jinx and you had been ambushed by a group of enforcers. They had been tracking your whereabouts for months and had finally planned an attack. They came into Jinx’s base with their guns a-blaze, very on brand for them at this point. Knowing that you weren’t exactly the most agile or even much of the fighting type, she dashed down and grabbed you quickly, dashing back out through a side vent. She held you close to her in the vent for a few minutes until the shooting ceased. You felt your heart beating through your chest. Usually, you were the type to stay out of danger. It wasn’t because you didn’t want to be in the action but because Jinx was very protective over you and also because you didn’t have much muscle in general. You were weaker, sensitive, and Jinx knew this well. She vowed to protect you since the day she first met you. 
Jinx met you in the streets of Zaun at a younger age. She was around fourteen and had just been taken in by Silco a couple years prior. She saw a few older boys beating you up in one of the back alleyways. She didn’t know you, but she saw herself in you at that moment and had to save you. You saw a weirdly-assembled tin can? No, it must have been a bomb. It rolled towards you. It had eyes and whiskers drawn on it with purple and blue ink. Smoke came off from the bomb before exploding. The boys screamed and tried to run away, a couple getting caught in the blast. You were far enough away from the blast that you only had a few scratches and dust marks, aside from the bloody nose the group had already left you. A shadow came out from amongst the smoke. It was a girl with mid-length, blue hair. She had a wide-grin on her face and manic, wide eyes.
“Come on, let’s get you out of here, buttercup,” she said softly, her rasp not yet reaching its full potential. She reached her arm out to help you up, which you gladly accepted. She then took you back to Silco and had you cleaned up. You had been by her side ever since. 
Jinx looked down at you as she held you in her arms. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?” She asked frantically as she lifted up your arms, checking for wounds.
“I’m okay, baby. I’m okay.” 
“Okay,” she breathed out heavily, holding your face in her hands. “That’s it. I’m gonna show those Piltie goons a lesson, once and for all.” Jinx took a sharp breath before yelling, “They don’t touch you. No one touches you!” 
You grabbed for her hand, stopping her from leaving the vent. “Baby! I’m okay! Please don’t go.”
The melancholy, yearning voice that escaped from the back of your throat made Jinx stop in her tracks. Her eyes widened as she turned around. “Alright… Okay.” Her voice fell quieter as she cuddled back up with you. She then looked down into your lap to see the faint remnants of what was your childhood stuffed animal. “Oh no,” Jinx spoke softly. “Your little cat.”
You looked down into your lap to see it. You were holding it when the enforcers had come in. The head was disheveled and barely hanging on to its body. An eye was torn out and the stitching was pulled open. Stuffing enveloped the metal floor that you two sat on. 
“Shit,” you muttered with an awkward laugh. “I guess little Cosmo didn’t make it out with us.” 
“Is that what its name was? I suppose you never did tell me,” she laughed awkwardly with you. 
“Yeah,” you replied, wiping a tear shed from the recent event. “My [mom/dad/sibling] named him.”
“Right…” Jinx bit her lip, unsure of how to make this situation better. 
The two of you eventually made it out of the vent once the coast was clear. Jinx watched as you had a harder time sleeping at night without your stuffed cat. You tossed and turned each night. She couldn’t stand seeing you like this. She knew how important it was to you.
One day while you were picking up a small shipment for Silco, Jinx decided to pick up the damaged stuffed toy from its new place underneath your bed. She placed it on her workbench and got to work. She tried her best to redo the torn stitches, occasionally placing a patch or two of new material to cover up parts that were otherwise far from repair. It had a new button to replace the missing eye. Now it had two different colored buttons: one blue and one black. Jinx was proud of herself. Cosmo was far from perfect, however, he now resembled Jinx’s own stuffed rabbit and that brought joy to her. The two looked like the perfect pair when she sat them together on your guys’ shared bed. 
You returned home to see Jinx sitting at her desk, pretending to look busy at work. She swung her legs back and forth like a little kid. You threw your leather backpack to the floor and made your way over to her. Your hands were now on her shoulders, giving her a light massage.
“Hi, baby,” you said softly, kissing her neck chastely.
“Mmm,” she cooed, “I have a surprise for youuuu.”
You spun her around to face you. “And what would that be?”
Jinx bounced away from her desk and retrieved the stuffed animal from the bed, hiding it behind her back as she made her way back over to you. You had never seen her look so giddy. It made you happy, really happy. Seeing her looking so cheery and innocent made you think of all the times that she didn’t feel like this. Because when she didn’t feel like this, she could be a wreck: a ball of emotions on the floor, full of nerves. You didn’t like seeing her suffer like that. Today, however, was apparently a good day. You loved when she’d have her good days.
“What’re you hiding?” You said with a laugh, tickling her sides to get her to reveal this very secret gift. 
“Okay, okay!” Jinx called out with a giggle. “Here, I thought you missed him… I wanted to bring him back to you.” She held Cosmo out in front of her with both arms. He was being delicately clasped from underneath his arms like a new doll. You took notice of how gently she held him in comparison to her normal rough personality. 
“You… fixed him?” You asked, voice thick with emotion, grabbing Cosmo and holding him in your arms as tight as possible. 
“Yeah, it was something I could fix,” she replied softly with a smile. 
You jumped forward and hugged her as tight as you did the stuffed animal. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you,” you mumbled like a mantra.
Jinx played with your hair as you hugged her, unsure of what else to do. She loved being touchy, but hugs specifically seemed to evade her. She never knew where to put her hands or how tight she was supposed to hug someone. Nevertheless, she tried, raising her free hand up to rub your back. “You don’t need to thank me, buttercup,” she replied, shocked at your thankfulness. 
You nuzzled into her neck, still holding on to Cosmo. “Thank you, Jinx.” 
She softened after hearing you say her name. Usually, you used nicknames with each other, but hearing someone call her ‘Jinx’ instead of ‘Powder’ for once made her feel safe and loved by you. You would always be her number one cheerleader, and she knew it, but she never would know quite why you chose her. 
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vivwritesfics · 1 year ago
Text
Hooked On A Feeling
Chapter Two - Milo's Momma
Daniel is a Formula One driver, but, more importantly, he was a single dad to a wonderful little girl. He wants her to be a normal little girl, to have a normal social life, so he sends her to daycare. That was where she met Milo, her future best friend.
Milo's mother was incredibly stressed. She worked so hard to provide a good life for her son. But then he makes a new friend, a friend who has a hot dad (ofc they fall in love)
1.6K
Single Dad!Daniel x Single Mum!Reader
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Olivia Ricciardo had hoped her father would be home in time to take her to daycare. But her grandparents comforted her as they drove her. With that attitude every five year old had, Olivia climbed out of the car and walked into daycare, without talking to anybody.
The first person she spoke to that day was Milo. She was clearly in a bad mood, but he gave it time, waited for her to cheer up. Maybe she was tired; Milo knew he was always grumpy when he was tired.
But Olivia wasn’t getting any happier. So, Milo got up from the floor and went to talk to the teacher.
As she watched him walk away, Olivia looked ready to cry again. Her bestest friend (of a whole week) walked away, leaving her on her own. Olivia shed a single tear, but the other children were watching, so she sucked it up.
But then Milo returned, dinosaur teddy bear in hands. He clutched it tight as he walked back over to Olivia and sat on the floor beside her. "This is Rexy," he said as Olivia hesitantly reached for it. "He's my favourite teddy in the whole wide world but you're sad so you can have him for today, but only for today okay?" He said quickly as Olivia squeezed the plush toy.
"Thank you," she said quietly and squeezed Rexy tighter.
Olivia didn't let go of the bear for the rest of the day. As she and Milo played with toys of chased each other around the yard, she always had Rexy.
That was exactly why Milo brought Rexy to daycare. Because, when he was having a tough day, nothing made him happier than having Rexy there.
At the end of the day Olivia handed Rexy back. Milo packed him into his bag and, together, the children walked out of daycare, heading to where the parents gathered. Olivia had no hopes of her daddy being there, waiting to pick her up and drive her home.
She still scanned the faces of all of the parents, and didn't see her own. "C'mon," said Milo, taking Olivia’s hand and pulling her towards his mummy, who was waiting by the gate.
As he walked over, his mother crouched down, pulling her into her arms. "And who have we got here, munchkin?" She asked him, taking his dinosaur backpack and swinging it over her shoulder.
"Momma, this is Olivia," Milo said.
Immediately Y/N noticed the tears in her eyes. "Hello, Olivia," Y/N said in a kind voice. "Milo has told me all about you," she said, trying to give the girl a reassuring smile.
Olivia levelled her a look. "Did Milo tell you about my famous race car driver daddy?"
"He did," Y/N replied, trying to stifle the small laugh she had at the little girls determination. "Well, if he or you mummy anywhere around here?" Y/N asked as she held Milo's hand in her own.
Crossing her arms, Olivia looked around the car park for her grandparents. Or their car. But it wasn't there. They weren't there. For the millionth time that day, Olivia wanted to cry.
But then she saw the 2006 Toyota Hilux.
And there he was, striding towards her in am AlphaTauri hat and sunglasses. "DADDY!" Olivia screamed at the top of her lungs and went running towards the man. He wasted no time in scooping her up and planting a kiss on her cheek.
"Hey, badger," he said, walking her towards where she had come from to thank the parent that was keeping an eye on his little girl.
Daniel walked over to a young woman, who looked as tired as he felt, holding the hand of a little boy. "That's Milo, daddy," she said into his ear as she wrapped her arms around his neck.
But she was walking away. "C'mon Milo," she said and tried to pull the five year old away.
Milo pulled away from his mother. "But Momma! That Olivia’s race car dad!" He insisted.
Trying to hide a sigh, Y/N picked Milo up and placed him on her hip. Milo had been wanting to invite Olivia over for a playdate for the last week, but had insisted his Momma wait until Olivia’s grandparents or dad were back, instead of her mum.
And now that Olivia’s dad was here, Milo was gonna get that playdate.
"Are you Olivia’s dad?" Y/N guessed as she approached.
Wearing his typically charming smile, Daniel held Olivia with one hand and held the other out towards Milo's mother (who couldn't do the same with her son in his arms). "Yeah I'm Olivia’s dad, Daniel."
"I'm Milo's mum," said Y/N as she nodded towards him. "Milo would like to know if Olivia would like to come to our house for a playdate," she offered.
Daniel let his smile falter. He loved that Olivia had made a friend, that somebody wanted to invite her for a playdate, but there was always doubt at the back of his mind. What if they were using her to get to him? It was incredibly sad that he had to think like that, but, with the life he had, he had to think like that.
“Can I, daddy?” Asked Olivia as she grinned. “Pleeeeaaaase!”
Daniel looked back at Milo’s mother. She was pretty, and she looked honest. But you couldn't tell what somebody was all about just from their face. "Do you mind if I come with her?" He asked. Milo might be been Olivia's friend, but his mum was still a stranger, and Daniel just wanted to make sure his badger was safe.
"Of course," said Milo's mother. "Say, this Friday after daycare?" She asked.
It wasn't a race weekend, so Daniel nodded his head. "Great," she said, adjusting Milo in her arms. "I'm Y/N, by the way," she finished.
The two said a quick goodbye, with the kids waving enthusiastically to each other as they went. Even as Milo got into his booster seat in the back of Y/N's Peugeot. Y/N offered Daniel one last smile as she put Milo's bag in the back and climbed into the driver's seat.
Daniel watched as Y/N pulled out of the daycare car park and made his own way out, driving Olivia home. "Are you excited for your playdate with Milo, Badger?" He asked as he looked into the rear view mirror.
Olivia was bouncing in her seat, cheeks red from smiling. "Yeah!" She shouted. But, mostly, Olivia was just happy to have her father home.
***
It was a Wednesday when Y/N met Daniel. The playdate was scheduled for two days time, so she immediately set about cleaning when she walked through the door.
If it was just Olivia coming for the playdate, she wouldn't have been cleaning so obsessively. Still cleaning, just not this obsessively. But, now that Daniel was coming too, sue wanted the house to be perfect.
With a house the size of theirs, it didn't take long to clean. She had Milo cleaning up his toys in the living room while she dusted the surfaces downstairs. "But Momma," Milo protested as he picked up a tray of lego. "'Livia and I are just gonna get my toys out again."
"Please, Munchkin," she said as she crouched down to gather up more of his toys. "I want Olivia and her daddy to see how nice our house is." She opened her arms and Milo collapsed into them, quietly muttering an 'okay momma'.
Y/N cleaned the entire house from top to bottom. She cleaned the two rooms that made up the downstairs and the bedrooms upstairs. She put Milo's shoes away in the cupboard and made sure the kitchen was clean, wiped the muddy cat paw prints from the wood of the stairs.
While Milo watched television, she cleaned his room, making sure it was perfect for when Daniel and Olivia came over.
"Momma, Olivias dad is gonna like our house," he said as she straightened up the rug in the living room. "Olivia said he's really nice."
"I'm sure he is, Munchkin. Momma just wants the house to be nice and clean, okay?"
"Okay Momma," Milo answered and went back to watching the television.
Taglist (OPEN): @biancathecool @rewmuslupin @prettiest-at-the-party @hellowgoodbye @cassie0sstuff @spideybv28 @andydrysdalerogers @aundercover @lou-bean28 @landossainz @purplephantomwolf @ggaslyp1@layazul @phantomxoxo @minkyungseokie @gills-lounge @hollie911 @annispamz @lillians-world-is-f1 @cixrosie @notyouraveragemochii @charli123456789 @amalialeclerc @stay1strongbeautiful @tallrock35 @teenwolf01 @chiliwhore @darleneslane @sava207 @thatsusbitch @formulaal
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foxy-eva · 10 months ago
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Rite of Passage
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Summary: Spencer is home alone with his daughter when she gets her period for the first time
Request: Spencer and Reader are married. They have a teenage daughter who gets her period for the first time (initially requested to @imagining-in-the-margins)
Pairing: Technically Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader but it’s mostly about Spencer and his daughter!
Category: Comfort, Fluff
Content Warnings: mentions blood, menstruation, period hygiene, cramps, female anatomy and biology, crying, food
Author's Note: I wrote this for @/imagining-in-the-margins Kid Fic Writing Challenge! 
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Sunday mornings always brought a certain calmness with them. Spencer was still half asleep when you kissed him goodbye, leaving for a little day trip with your friends when the sun was barely up. 
Spencer mumbled something that should have sounded like I love you before he closed his eyes once more, looking forward to some father-daughter quality time with your wonderful kid Marie. 
That was until he was awoken by shrill screams coming from her room. 
You were long gone when Spencer jumped out of bed, all of his years working with the FBI having him expect the worst. He rushed into his daughter’s room, finding her sitting in her bed, a look of horror spread across her face. 
“Are you okay!?” Spencer almost yelled when he reached her bedside. 
His daughter slowly shook her head while pulling back the blanket, revealing small blood stains on her pajama pants and the sheets. It only took Spencer a split second to realize what was happening. His facial features softened instantly. 
He thought he still had a few more months, maybe even another year, until this would happen. He had also hoped that you would be home for this occasion, certainly handling this a lot better than he ever could. 
“Oh sweetie,” he cooed while sitting down on the edge of her bed. “I think you got your period.”
Instead of saying anything, Marie just buried her face in her hands and started wailing. Spencer wasn’t sure if she was still in shock or if the general discomfort made her cry. 
“It’s okay. It just means you’re becoming a woman.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, he wished he could have taken them back. He hated the thought that his little girl was actually growing up more than anything. And it certainly didn't help in this moment. 
Without thinking about it, he did what he was most comfortable with and started rambling, “We talked about this, do you remember? It means that your uterine lining is shedding which results in the discharge of blood through your–”
“Dad!” She cried. “Please stop talking about my… you know! It’s weird!”
“I’m sorry, I’ll stop.” 
His little girl wiped away some tears from her cheeks before muttering, “Where’s mom? I wanna talk to her.”
Spencer sighed. He would have liked nothing more than to be able to let you take over right then. “She already left for her day trip. She won’t be home until six.” 
This explanation only led to more crying. Spencer reached out his hand to offer comfort with a gentle touch on her arm but Marie shied away from him.
“I feel gross,” she whined. 
“Why don’t you hop in the shower to get clean and then change into fresh clothes?” 
It seemed like he finally said something helpful. Her sobs simmered down as she got up from her bed to walk over to the bathroom, locking the door behind her. Spencer quickly changed the sheets and put out some clean clothes for his daughter before disappearing in his bedroom.
He let out a loud breath as he reached for his phone to call you. Before you could say anything, he blurted out, “She got her period and won’t stop crying and I don’t know what to do!”
“Oh my poor girl! Is she with you right now?” You wanted to know. 
“She’s in the shower. Can you please come home?” 
You knew that he wasn’t being serious. A quiet laugh escaped our mouth before you said, “Don't be so dramatic, Spencer. I’m sure you're very capable of handling this.”
“I told her that her uterine lining was shedding. It was not helpful,” he sighed. 
“Yeah, maybe hold off on the biology lesson for now. You know where my pads are, right?”
“Oh yeah, right. She's gonna need them.” Spencer paused for a second. “Oh god, what if she wants to use a tampon? I can’t explain that to her. That conversation will make the both of us cry.” 
“Give her a pad for now, those are self-explanatory. I can talk to her about tampons later if she wants.”
“Okay, okay, yeah. She just turned off the shower, I gotta go!” 
“Good luck! And stop panicking!” 
That was easier said than done. Spencer almost jumped when he heard Marie knocking on the bedroom door. 
“You can come in!” 
His daughter, tightly wrapped in a bathrobe, stepped into the room. She had stopped crying but still seemed upset. Spencer’s heart always broke a little when he saw his little girl in discomfort.
“I’m still uhm…bleeding,” she whispered. 
“Yes, that's gonna last a couple of days,” Spencer replied with a soft voice. He disappeared in the master bathroom for a second to get a pack of pads. “Here. Do you know how to use them?”
“I’m not an idiot, dad,” she snubbed.
The tone of her voice gave away how irritated she was. Usually Spencer would remind her to be more respectful but decided to let it slide this time. 
“I know, Mimi. I just wanted to make sure,” he said instead. 
The use of this nickname for his daughter was yet another reminder of a time that seemed so long gone right then. Marie had trouble pronouncing her own name as a toddler so she’d say Mimi instead. Spencer loved it so much that he stuck with it ever since. 
Without saying another word, she disappeared in her room. Spencer rubbed his temples for a moment before getting ready for the day himself. He decided to give his daughter some space and prepare breakfast in the meantime. 
He was focussed on not burning the chocolate chip pancakes he was making when Marie stepped into the kitchen. 
“I’m sorry I snapped at you,” she mumbled. 
Spencer turned his head to smile at his daughter. “It's okay, sweetie. I know you aren’t feeling well.”
She placed her hands on her lower stomach and muttered, “It hurts.”
“Here,” Spencer said as he reached for the hot water bottle he had already prepared. “Heat has a proven effect on relieving period cramps.”
“Thank you.” 
A timid smile appeared on her face when she realized her father was preparing her favorite breakfast. She stepped closer to catch a glimpse of the pan while chirping, “Chocolate chip pancakes?” 
“You know I’d do anything to make you feel better, Mimi,” Spencer spoke in a soft voice while offering his daughter a hug. 
This time she accepted, tightly wrapping her arms around him. Spencer was relieved that he didn’t mess up yet another thing. Marie was very bright and realized something Spencer had thought about earlier, too. 
“Wait,” she said as she stepped back. “You always make mom her favorite meal when she’s in a bad mood.”
“You have a lot in common with your mother, “ he explained. “I figured I should try what works for her.” 
“Now you’ll have to deal with two cranky girls in the house,” Marie laughed while taking out two plates. 
“I really don't mind,” he sincerely replied. “I can’t imagine what it’s like to have all kinds of uncomfortable side effects during your period. Taking care of your mom – and now you – is the least I could do.”
After a moment of silence she said, “Earlier you said that I’m becoming a woman now. I thought about that when I was in the shower… What if I don't wanna grow up yet?” 
“I don’t know if that helps, but… You’ll always be my little girl,” Spencer responded while filling both plates with pancakes. 
“So you’ll still watch Disney movies with me?” 
A wide smile spread over Spencer’s face as he took the plates to walk over to the couch. “I was hoping you'd ask!”
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Please like, reblog and leave a comment! I need your lovely words to stay motivated to write more stories.
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halsteadlover · 1 year ago
Text
𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧 𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬
• Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Fem!Reader.
• Summary: just a compilation of Charles’ ig posts showing how much he’s obsessed and in love with you and his baby.
• Warnings: none just pure fluff.
• A/N: I know I know… I’m a sucker for dad fics I just can’t help it 😭😭 this is my first time posting a smau so please be kind with me I know it’s bad 😭 let me know what I can do to do it better and what you think ❤️ love you all xx
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charles_leclerc You have never been more beautiful than you are now mon amour. Watching you grow our baby is one of the most beautiful things I have ever witnessed 🖤
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user1 Charles whipped Leclerc is back in town!
charlos123 screaming, crying throwing up 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
landonorris find yourself someone who loves you like Charles loves his wife (I'm 5'10 girls)
oscarpiastri Shut up no you’re not
user88 💀💀💀
yourusername Je t'aime plus que la lune et les étoiles mon amour ❤️ We’re both so lucky to have you (I love you more than the moon and the stars)
charles_leclerc Je t'aime beaucoup plus bébé❤️ (I love you so much more baby)
versclerc the way he just answers her comments 😭
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charles_leclerc For you mon amour.
For you, who looks in the mirror and doesn’t like what you see but is truly the most breathtaking woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on.
For you, who every single day gives me one more reason to love you even more, something I didn’t even believe was possible. Feeling something so strong for someone that the word ‘love’ isn’t enough to describe it.
For you, who taught me the meaning of true love and what’s really important in life.
For you, who are so beautiful that it still surprise me even after so many years being together how you manage to give me butterflies in my stomach.
For you for whom just one look is enough to make my heart race and my hands sweat.
For you who are the most beautiful thing life has ever given me.
For you, who can brighten my darkest day, who can make me the happiest that I’ve ever been.
For you, who gave me the most beautiful gift I could have ever asked for.
We can’t wait to hold you mon petit, please hurry up 🙏🏻❤️
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user24 GOOD FUCKING BYE
user98 Dragging my teeth on the concrete
mstleclerc CHARLESJSJSIDJSOSKSNSJ OMFGGGGGG 😭😭😭
carlossainz55 you’re making me want one of those little shits
Liked by charles_leclerc and yourusername
landonorris I almost shed a tear not gonna lie
Liked by charles_leclerc
arthur_leclerc I’m so happy for you brother I can’t wait to spoil my nephew ❤️
Liked by charles_leclerc and yourusername
charles_leclerc By the way my wife just bursted out crying seeing this post and I was about to make a video but she literally threatened to kill me if I did ❤️ God I love her 😍
f1fun_12 This is such a Y/n thing to do 😭
sainzzzzzzzzzzzz As she should!
yourusername I can’t put into words how much I’m grateful for you and for everything you do for our little family. Our son is so lucky to have you as a father and I couldn’t have chosen a better husband. I’d be so lost without you baby, I love you more than my life ❤️ ps: stop making me cry for fucks sake I don’t have any more tears in my body thanks
charles_leclerc Can you please unlock the bedroom darling?
yourusername Nope, that’s what you get for trying to filming me
yourusername UNLESS……. You bring me a ketchup sandwich
charles_leclerc it’s already on the way my queen 👸🏻 your wish is my command
user7612 A KETCHUP SANDWICH??? What???
yourusername @user7612 it’s not my fault okay?
monof1 the fact Charles is so used to her cravings that he’s not even questioning them anymore 😭
charles_leclerc @monof1 fun fact: never NEVER argue with a pregnant woman especially if that pregnant woman is Y/n
monof1 @/charles_leclerc OMG CHARLES HI I LOVE YOU
charles_leclerc posted on his story
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Viewed by yourusername and 99251 others
yourusername
What did I do to deserve you?
landonorris answered your story:
You’re so whipped mate
charles_leclerc can you blame me? Have you seen my wife and THAT baby bump?
carlossainz55 answered your story:
Yeah ok we get you’re in love and bla bla bla
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charles_leclerc There are only a few days left until our baby arrives and I’m scared and impatient at the same time. My wife is sleeping next to me now breathtakingly beautiful and I’ve taken some time to reflect on how these 9 months have flown by and I can’t believe it, it seems like it was just yesterday that we found out we were expecting a baby. I can no longer remember what my life was like before knowing your existence, little one.
I can't help but imagine and think about you in everything I do and every step I make, thinking about how beautiful it’ll be to see you take your first steps, to see you run around the house, dirty everything, to see you measure my helmets, to see you trying my race suits, to see you go to school, to see you grow in the beautiful and amazing person you’re going to be.
We’ll probably argue sometimes, although I’ll make sure that never happens, but whatever happens, just know that I loved you more than my life from the first moment since I saw that positive pregnancy test and I hope you’ll never forget it even if we have any argument.
Mommy and I are so eager to finally hold you in our arms, hear you cry and take your first breath in this new life. It hasn’t always been easy, I’ll be honest, and it won’t be easy but I wouldn’t change anything. I love you mon petit ange. 🖤
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user90 CHARLES 😭😭😭😭😭
maxlecsainz I swear it’s not that I don’t want a baby it’s just men are not like Charles Leclerc
y/nmommy1 who wants to take a quick bath with a toaster?
user65 I’m on my way sis
y/ncharles82772 wait for me I’m taking a nap on a highway right now
norrizzzzz528 I know it’s the bare minimum but seeing the way Charles loves his family makes my heart so happy 😭😭😭
lewishamilton I’ve never thought there would be a day where I’d be jealous of Charles Leclerc but here we are… Jokes aside I’m so happy for you mate 🖤
Liked by charles_leclerc
user209 you’re so real Lew
landonorris when will the child see his fav uncle?
arthur_leclerc EXCUSE ME?
lorenzotl you’re so delusional
carlossainz55 Yeah. Clearly I AM already his favourite one
pierregasly you’re all so wrong @/yourusername said he’ll like me the most 💁🏻‍♂️
charles_leclerc @/pierregasly she literally never said that?
pierregasly @/charles_leclerc oh shut up you know it’s true
user42 what is going on in this comment section??? 💀
daddylec16 the way they can’t never leave Charles in peace even in his comment section 😭
maxverstappen1 Once I saw Charles crying his eyes out because Y/n sent him an audio with the baby’s heartbeat since he couldn’t make it for the ultrasound
user66 OH MY GOD!!!!!!! 😭😭
maxalonso1995 STOPPPPP GIVE US MORE MAX
charles_leclerc THAT’S NOT TRUE I was just having an allergic reaction to dust
maxverstappen1 @charles_leclerc oh c’mon Charlie
user66 CHARLIEHSJSJDJJS FUCK OFF
charles_leclerc @/maxverstappen1 it only happened ONCE
leclercfan12 every day Charles comes on this app and has to fight for his life poor baby
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charles_leclerc Our little boy Jules Hervé Leclerc is finally here.
I can’t even put into words how over the moon we are right now, I feel like my life just started all over again. Watching my wife give birth to my son is an experience I’ll never forget, you’re a force of nature baby I can’t thank you enough for everything you do for me.
And to my little Jules I love you more than the air I breathe I can’t way to start this new life with you ❤️
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yourusername Don’t let him fool you guys he went to sleep after I GAVE BIRTH
charles_leclerc OMFG THAT’S NOT TRUE DON’T LISTEN TO HER
yourusername hehe 😆 just kidding guys he’s the best. I love you so much Cha, Jules and I are so lucky to have you ❤️
user765 STOP THE WAY CHARLES IS CRYING IN THE FIRST PIC
user22 WHEN WILL IT BE MY TURN
mclarengirllll112 JULES HERVÉ LECLERC DO YOU HEAR ME FUCKING CRYING
norrizzzzz528 WHAT IF I JUST KILLED MYSELF
user976 OUR PRINCE IS HERE EVERYBODY MOVE
daddylec16 I know I’ll find someone who loves me like Charles loves his family. I just know it
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General tag list: @hngbrooks, @alexxavicry, @halstead-severide-fan, @mrspeacem1nusone, @allivzs, @omniaimy, @cursedashes, @kmc1989, @klovesreading, @firetruckstuckley, @23victoria
Charles Leclerc tag list: @softicecr3eam, @halsteadbrasil, @bwormie, @ssprayberrythings, @mynameisangeloflife
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Side blog -> @halsteadloverslibrary
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