#single!dad

[dollyfiles]

how sweetheart!reader and single!dad!rafe met

sweetheart!reader mlist

cw: fluff, mutual pining, readers childhood trauma

it was late afternoon when rafe walked into rosie's diner, the neon signs buzzing softly in the window as the sun dipped low behind the buildings. he had his daughter lizzie cradled on one hip—her tiny arms crossed tightly, her little face scrunched into the saddest pout rafe had ever seen.

her favorite glitter dress, the one she wore every chance she got, had torn earlier that day when she tripped while chasing butterflies in the park. the rip wasn't even that bad, but to a four-year-old, it may as well have been the end of the world.

rafe had definitely faced tougher days—stressful meetings, custody battles, even the lonely ache of single fatherhood—but somehow, nothing compared to the heartbreak of his four-year-old daughter sitting across from him in a diner booth, blinking away fat tears over a torn glitter dress.

he had tried everything. promise of a new dress, a bigger one, a more colorful one, even offered to let her choose two. but nothing seemed to make it better. lizzie sat with her arms crossed tightly over her chest, lower lip pushed out and trembling. her little unicorn purse was tossed beside her like it had betrayed her.

rafe rubbed the back of his neck, trying again. "sweetie, i promise we'll find another glittery dress. maybe an even shinier one. how about that?" lizzie sniffled and looked away. "it wasn't just a dress," she muttered. "it was the one."

he sighed and leaned back against the booth, running a hand down his face. he loved this little girl with every part of him, but he never quite figured out how to fix the kind of heartbreak only a glitter dress could cause.

rafe looked around the diner, trying to distract himself from the weight pressing on his chest. the place had an old-school charm—checkered floors, soft golden lighting, a jukebox in the corner humming faintly. cozy, familiar. it was supposed to help. but right now, all he could see was his daughter’s tear-streaked cheeks.

and then you appeared.

sweetheart.

you moved through the diner like you belonged in another era—red lipstick, soft curls tucked behind one ear, a notepad in hand and an expression that warmed the air around you. you took one look at lizzie and didn't say a word about the tears or the pout. instead, you crouched down to eye level, resting your elbows lightly on the edge of the table.

you had seen a lot of pouts and tantrums during your shifts at rosie’s, but there was something about this little girl—sitting there, silently mourning her torn dress—that tugged at something deep in your chest. it reminded you of yourself.

you remembered being small, wishing someone would notice when your world cracked a little. but no one had, not back then. so now, when you saw that kind of sadness in a child, it became your mission to fix it, even if just for a moment.

you analyzed the little gorl for a hit before speaking, your voice soft. “well hey there, pretty girl,” you said, tilting your head to meet lizzie’s eye. "looks like someone could use a little magic today." lizzie peeked at you with red-rimmed eyes and gave a silent nod.

and yet your smile didn’t waver. “you know, i have a secret weapon for days like this. pancakes. but not just any pancakes—they’re probably the best ones in town.” lizzie didn't answer at first, but a tiny spark of interest flickered behind her wet lashes.

rafe blinked, watching the scene unfold like it was something out of a dream. his daughter didn’t usually warm up to strangers. but lizzie was listening. her pout was still there, but her eyes weren’t as glassy.

"aaand," you leaned in with a whisper, "i’ll even ask the kitchen to give your pancake extra sparkles. but shhh, don't tell anyone. it’s only for the bravest girls." lizzie gave the tiniest smile. it was small—barely a shift—but rafe noticed it immediately. and he felt something in his chest loosen. he cleared his throat. “that, uh… that actually sounds pretty good. for both of us.”

you straightened, your doe eyes meeting rafe’s blue ones for the first time and he could feel it. there was something about the way you handled the moment—gentle but not patronizing, playful without being pushy. you chuckled and scribbled on your notepad. "coming right up!”

as you walked away, rafe couldn’t stop watching you. he should’ve been focusing on lizzie, on patching up the day—but for a moment, he let himself just look. at the way you gently teased a smile out of a stranger’s kid. at the quiet strength in your posture. at the way you moved like you had learned to carry yourself with pride, even if it hadn’t always been easy.

there was something about you that felt safe, and he wasn’t sure why that thought unsettled him as much as it comforted him.

you busied yourself behind the counter, assembling the plate of freshly baked pancakes in your special way. it was silly, really. but you took extra care with this one—extra whipped cream, adjusting the blueberries and strawberry slices and adding some of your secret sprinkles and glitter, the ones u always hid in the corner of the counter.

you didn’t know their story. but you didn’t have to. that man—he looked like he hadn’t had a break in a long time. and that little girl? she had that kind of sadness that you wanted to fix so damn bad.

when you returned and placed the plate down in front of lizzie, the little girl gasped, eyes wide as saucers. “he’s got a whipped cream mustache!” she squealed.

there it is, you thought. the first smile of the day.

it was always like that. fixing sadness, especially in little ones, felt like stitching something back together. no one had ever done that for you when you were small—when you cried yourself to sleep in a cluttered room, pretending not to hear your parents fight in the next one.

no one had ever knelt down and made you feel like your sadness mattered. so now, when you saw a tear-streaked child, your heart instinctively moved toward them. you couldn’t not care. it was built into you.

rafe’s head tilted in disbelief at his daughters sudden change of heart. that sound—his daughter’s laugh—was like oxygen. he looked up at you, awe and gratitude written all over his face. “you’re magic,” he said, half-joking but entirely serious.

you just smiled, your cheeks dusting with pink. “not at all,” you replied. “just pancakes.” but something shifted between the two of you in that moment.

the man hadn’t said much. just sat there for most of the time, trying so hard to hold it together, trying even harder to soothe a little heartbreak that he couldn’t quite fix with words or promises. you could see the wear on him. the way his shoulders slumped just slightly, like he carried a hundred things that no one ever asked about.

the tiredness around his eyes wasn’t just from a long day—it was something deeper. a man who was used to pushing through. a man who had probably stopped letting himself want anything just for him a long time ago.

but he was still here. still showing up. still kneeling beside a tiny, brokenhearted girl and offering kisses and soft-spoken comfort. that kind of love—it wasn’t flashy. it was quiet, steady, constant.

and god… it made your heart ache in the best way. because you never had that. no father who bent down and kissed your scraped knees. no one who promised to make it better, even when they didn’t know how.

watching him love his daughter like that—without hesitation, without pride, just pure devotion—it stirred something in you. something admiring. something tender. he was trying. and you admired the hell out of that.

you turned to tend to other tables, but rafe’s eyes followed you, unable to look away. you felt yourself blush under the weight of his gaze, but you didn’t waver. instead, you offered him a small, knowing smile—the kind that said: i see you. you’re doing better than you think.

and from that day on, rafe and lizzie became regulars at the diner. maybe it was the pancakes. maybe it was the way lizzie would always ask, “is the pretty lady here today?”

or maybe it was because rafe—despite himself—wanted to keep seeing you, the woman with the cherry-red lipstick and a heart that seemed to understand the language of both children and tired men.

and deep down he knew it was never just about the pancakes. it was about the way you made the world feel a little gentler. a little warmer. a little more like home.

tags: @inbred-eater @dearapril @rafecami @isasweetie @beausling @rafesheaven @rafesbowbunny @rafesangelita @drewsephrry @rafessecret @littlelamy @sturn777 @bradshawed @cherrygirlfriend @trusweethrt @inspiredangel @whinyangel @et6rnalsun @luckycrys @bluemerakis @rafeysbangs @drewstarkeyswife0 @rebeccapineapple @f4dedtouch

[dollyfiles]

single!dad!rafe asking sweetheart!reader out

sweetheart!reader mlist

cw: none, pure fluff

it was a slow sunday morning at rosie’s, the kind that wrapped around the small town like a warm blanket. the old jukebox in the corner hummed a slow, dreamy tune from the ’50s, barely louder than the gentle clink of silverware or the low murmur of sleepy regulars.

you were already gliding toward rafe and lizzie with two plates balanced effortlessly in your hands—their usuals. you didn’t even need a notepad anymore. before lizzie had even swung her tiny legs up into the booth, you set down a vanilla milkshake with extra whipped cream and sprinkles in front of the four-year old. right next to you, rafe took a seat with a quiet, grateful smile.

“your strawberry pancakes, extra syrup on the side, no fruit touching the whipped cream, just how you like it, my lady,” you said, sliding the plate in front of lizzie. “and for you…” you placed a plate in front of rafe, “two eggs, over medium, toast a little too crispy, and bacon that’s—what did you say last time? ‘aggressively fried’?”

lizzie beamed. “thank you, miss sweetheart!” and rafe chuckled softly, “that’s the one,” the cup of black coffee already warm in his palm. you knew how he liked it—dark, strong, and a little too hot to sip right away. “you really are somethin’ else.” you gave him a wink in response, your heart doing that flutter it always did when he looked at you that way.

but something was different today. you saw it in the way his shoulders slumped a little more than usual. in how his fingers tapped the side of his coffee mug, like there was something heavy pressing on him. his smile was there, but it felt… restrained. pulled tight at the edges.

still, you didn’t press. that wasn’t your way. but you lingered just a second longer, your fingers touching the edge of his plate gently before moving on, letting him have his space.

behind the counter, you busied yourself with the usual: refilling the sugar jars, reorganizing the straw holder even though it didn’t need it, pretending you weren’t watching him out of the corner of your eye. your heart, though—well, that had other plans.

it always beat a little different when rafe was in the room. there was something about him. the way he looked at his daughter like she was his entire world. the way he always said “thank you” like it mattered. he made the space around him feel grounded, even on the days when the world felt too loud.

and yet today, he looked… worn out. like he’d had a thousand moments lately where he had to be strong and couldn’t afford to fall apart.

you knew that look. too well.

but that’s when you felt a tiny tug on the edge of your apron. you glanced down and found lizzie, standing beside you, eyes wide with mischief and the kind of innocent confidence only a four-year-old could get away with. “hi,” the girl said cheerfully.

you crouched down slightly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “hey there, sugar. what you sneakin’ up on me for?”

lizzie peeked over her shoulder toward her dad, before leaning in like she was about to share national secrets. then, in the loudest whisper imaginable, she blurted:

“umm..will you go on a date with my daddy?” you blinked. frozen. “what?” you laughed, heat blooming instantly in your cheeks.

lizzie giggled, arms swinging slightly like this was no big deal. “he really wants to. he said it lots’ at home. like, a lot a lot. i think daddy is shy. he practiced with our cat last night.”

sweetheart nearly choked on a laugh. “does he now?” lizzie nodded solemnly. “but peaches didn’t say yes. just walked away. i think miss sweetheart would say yes though. you like daddy, right?”

your heart twisted—not in a bad way, but in that aching, tender way that always surprised you. you looked over at the booth, where rafe sat, oblivious, gently wiping a bit of grease from the corner of his mouth. he looked tired. but he looked so full of love, too. watching rafe, you realized something had quietly taken root in your chest—a yearning for something safe. something real.

you placed a hand on your heart. “i do think your daddy is quiet the jaw-dropper.” lizzie just beamed at you with the cutest smile ever, “mhm! he’s the best. he makes the best spaghetti. and he smells nice when he hugs me.” you couldn’t help but giggle at how innocent she was. “well,” you said, crouching a little more to meet lizzie at eye level. “wanna help me play a little prank on him?”

the girls’ eyes lit up like christmas morning. “yesss!”

“okay,” you whispered, reaching for a clean napkin and a pink crayon from the counter cup. “i’m gonna write him a tiny note. your job is to bring it to him, slide it onto the table, and act normal. no smiling. no giggling. can you do that?”

lizzie nodded with the most serious face she could manage. “good girl,” you smiled, and then quickly scribbled on the napkin in your neat, loopy handwriting:

“your daughter just sealed the deal for you, rafe. thank her for the push—and tell her i’d love to go on a date with her daddy.”

and just below it, you pressed your lips to the corner—your signature red color leaving a perfect kiss mark like a seal of approval. you folded the napkin carefully and handed it to lizzie. “go on, secret agent. don’t blow our cover.”

lizzie nodded, clutching the note like it was the key to the universe, and skipped back to the booth with the kind of exaggerated “calm” walk that made you smile against your knuckles. you watched from behind the counter, hiding behind the coffee machine just enough to see but not be seen just yet.

rafe looked down as his daughter slid the folded napkin across the table with a simple “this is from miss sweetheart.” then she picked up her fork and resumed eating like nothing had happened.

curious, rafe unfolded the napkin. his brows furrowed first, then his eyes swept over the words slowly—twice, then a third time. his lips parted slightly in disbelief, thumb hovering over the kiss mark like he couldn’t quite believe it was real. then he looked up. you gave him a playful wink from across the room and mouthed, ‘took you long enough’.

rafe let out the softest, stunned laugh and shook his head, running a hand through his hair. his smile was slow, wide, and warm enough to melt every last cube of sugar on the counter. he glanced at lizzie, who was just happily munching her pancake as if she hadn’t just changed the course of his life.

with that, rafe finally exhaled all the nerves he’d been carrying around for weeks. he looked over at you again, heart full and eyes shining, and said the words he’d been practicing—though this time, not to the cat.

“dinner this friday?”

you leaned on the counter, your smile soft and bright. “i thought you’d never ask.” and just like that, with pancakes half-eaten and pink crayon hearts drawn on napkins, something beautiful began—messy and sweet and full of heart.

tags: @inbred-eater @dearapril @rafecami @isasweetie @beausling @rafesheaven @rafesbowbunny @rafesangelita @drewsephrry @rafessecret @littlelamy @sturn777 @bradshawed @cherrygirlfriend @trusweethrt @inspiredangel @whinyangel @et6rnalsun @luckycrys @bluemerakis @rafeysbangs @f4dedtouch @nemesyaaa @bruisedfig @tinythebunni @rcsbabydoll @rafestoothbrush

[eddiesxangel]

The Nanny | E.M x f!reader

Anon requested :I have an idea for a smut for Eddie. Okay, so the reader is like a babysitter for Eddie, so the reader takes a video of playing with Eddie’s kid and sends it to him. When Eddie watches the video, however, Eventually, his eyes are only on the reader; he becomes attracted to the reader and gets stiff. But the reader did this on purpose for that reason, and so when Eddie gets home, his kid is asleep, and it’s just him and the reader, and they start to get intimate, and one thing leads to another …

Wc: 2.9k

Cw: smut, oral (f&m receving), p in v, unprotected sex, pull and pray

When you got the job about a year ago, you were out of school and desperate for a full-time job to pay the bills. You saw his ad for a live-in Nanny in the paper and jumped at the opportunity.

When you started this nannying business, you never thought you would fall for the handsome dad who hired you.

The family you learned was a father and daughter. Eddie was a widower. His wife had died five years previously, and he had a seven-year-old little girl.

Eddie was a dedicated manager and owner of a construction company in town. His hours were unpredictable, so he asked for your help getting his daughter, Charlotte, ready for school in the early mornings and picking her up. To accommodate your assistance, Eddie has constructed a small house in his backyard for you to stay in, providing you with your own space.

During the year you spent with Charlotte, you formed a deep bond with her, and she became your favourite person. You both shared numerous activities, such as shopping, getting your nails done, having sleepovers, and attending her dance classes.

You supported her at every recital and never missed her soccer games, even when Eddie couldn't attend. Your time with Charlotte became an irreplaceable part of your life.

Your relationship with Eddie grew as the year went on. You became more attracted to him. He was so charming, funny, and handsome. He made you feel welcomed like you were part of the family—the family you wished was real.

Eddie has been away for the last few days; he will be home this evening, but you still wanted to send him some updates about Charlotte. You sent him a video of you guys at the community pool. She loved swimming, and you couldn’t help but want to flirt. Did you wear this specific bathing suit so he would see it? Yes. You can’t help but want to get his attention, to have him look at you the way you look at him.

You were on the splash pad, and thought it would be cute to show a video of you and Charlotte running through the sprinkler. You set up your phone against the wall for balance and click record. You and her squealed as the water was cold on your bare skin. You were smiling and laughing together the whole time. You hoped Eddie found it cute…

Eddie was in the airport lounge when he received a notification on his phone. He smiled when he saw that your contact had disrupted his podcast.

He paused his show and swiped to see what you had sent him. The video began with a scene of Charlotte, soaked and jumping up and down, with her two missing front teeth visible. Eddie smirked at the sight. He loved his baby; he missed her so much. The video continues, and when you come into the shot, his eyes widen as he watches you run toward Charlotte. His eyes can't help but stare. Your ass bounced as you ran back towards his daughter; your tight bathing suit clung to your every curve. The sight of your body so exposed, your wet skin glistening in the sun, Eddie couldn’t help but feel his excitement start to grow.

You giggled and laughed as you picked her up and ran with her through the water. Your smile was so genuine, and Eddie hated that he had developed an attraction to you other than liking your personality.

When the video finished, you sent another text, but this time, it was not what Eddie had expected. When he clicked back to the chat, he almost dropped his phone because he was so shocked. Right under the wholesome video of you and Charlotte was a picture of you lying on your bed, hand draped across your naked chest.

He was looking around. To make sure nobody else saw what he was looking at, he opened the photo, and he could see more of your bare skin than he ever thought possible.

Flustered and confused, Eddie didn’t know what to make of this. Did you mean to send it by accident? Was this meant for someone else? The thought of it supposed to be for someone else sent a pang of jealousy through Eddie’s chest.

The overhead speaker saying the fight Eddie was supposed to be boarding was what snapped him out of his thoughts. The whole flight would feel extra long now that this would be all Eddie would think about. He couldn’t get home fast enough.

Eddie never replied to your video and didn’t respond to the picture you decided to take for him. You’re unsure what came over you, but you wanted a clear message. You didn’t think the video would do anything, so you got bold.

You started to regret your decision about the picture. Maybe you will lose your job. Perhaps you could play it off as an accident, pretending you didn’t know you had sent it to him.

It didn’t matter because it had been hours, and Eddie would be home any minute.

Trying to ignore the feeling of panic by distracting yourself by cooking dinner, you hear the front door click open.

“Honey, I’m home,” Eddie’s deep voice rings through the front hallway. Your stomach turns upside down at the sound of his voice.

“In here,” you try to keep your voice calm. Maybe he hasn’t seen it yet.

“Daddy!” Charlotte leaps off the kitchen chair and charges her way to her father. He’s been gone three days, the longest he has ever been away.

“Hi, handsome.” You smile as Eddie makes an appearance with Charlotte in his arms.

“H-hi,” he stutters, and his cheeks are a rose pink. He totally saw the photos.

“Dinner is almost ready,” you say, turning back to the stove, trying to hide your awkwardness about what you’ve done.

Eddie cleared his throat and took a seat as though nothing had happened. However, his mind was racing. He wanted to discuss it with you but didn’t know how to approach the situation.

Dinner was okay. You both tried to ignore the elephant in the room for Charlotte’s sake. You asked him questions about the trip, and he asked what you guys got up to. You let Charlotte do most of the talking. She eventually got bored and asked to watch a movie with both of you.

The tension could be cut with a knife as you and Eddie stole glances at one another while Charlotte was obviously enthralled by the princess singing about love in the big flatscreen.

After another hour and a half of torture, Charlotte passed out on her father’s shoulder. He smirks and says he’s putting her to bed and you stand to clean up the mess that was left in the kitchen after dinner.

A few minutes after watching the dishes, Eddie returns to the kitchen.

“You don’t have to clean; you’ve been on the clock for three days straight; I can take over. You sit and have a drink, relax.” He approaches you from behind.

“I don’t mind; youve been travelling all day; it’s my job to take care of you.” You look over your shoulder to see Eddie much closer than you thought.

“No, it’s your job to take care of Charlotte.” He raises a brow.

“What if I like taking care of you?” you drop the clean fork into the right side of the sink with all the other clean dishes.

“Sweetheart, about that…”

“Yes?” You turn excitedly.

“I um-you- I saw something.” Eddie didn’t know how to approach this. He sees you looking at him with hopeful eyes as you bite your lip. His heart fluttered in his chest when he saw the look on your face.

“I wanted you to see it.” You boldly admit.

“You- uh? What sweetheart?.” He asked, dumbfounded.

“Did you like it?” You take a small step forward, testing the waters.

Eddie visibly tenses. He knows this is wrong, he knows he shouldn’t be attracted to his kids’ nanny, but he’s also only a man—a man who has been crushing on you like he was back in high school.

“This is wrong”

“Why? It didn’t have to be?” You trail a flirtatious finger down his chest.

Eddie inhales sharply, and he can’t help his attraction to you take over.

“Because you’re you, and I’m your boss-“

“Charlotte is my boss,” you giggle and bat your eyes.

“Sweetheart,” he sighs.

“Eddie, I don’t want to keep pretending that there isn’t something between us. I can’t pretend any longer.”

“Sweetheart…”

“Please tell me it’s not just all in my head. All those late nights after we put Charlotte to bed, how we seek one another out even if Charlotte is not around, I see the way you look at me.”

Your face and Eddie’s were mere inches apart. Your lips were so close that Eddie was leaning in against his better judgment, but he wanted you so badly. You were right; there was an undeniable connection between the two of you, and Eddie didn’t want to ignore it either.

“Please, tell me I’m not crazy,” you whispered.

“You’re anything but sweetheart,” Eddie whispered back before closing the gap between you.

His soft lips formed with yours like they were made to be together.

You wrapped your hands around Eddie’s neck, pulling him in closer.

The sensation of his mouth on you went straight to your core. You needed him so badly.

Naturally, you slid your hands down his torso, up under his shirt, signalling for him to take it off; you needed to feel his skin; you kissed him like it was the last time you ever would kiss him.

You slid your hands down to his belt buckle, undoing it at a speed that wasn’t fast enough.

“Please, Eddie, I need you; let me make you feel good.”

“Sweetheart, you can’t just say things like that to me.” Eddie groans.

“Please, I need this; I’ve wanted this for so long, I can’t-” You both were so desperate, his pants couldn’t come off fast enough.

With a soft thwap, his jeans hit the kitchen floor, and you sink down to your knees.

“Fuck sweetheart, you look so beautiful like this.” he grips your chin before slipping his thumb in your mouth for you to suck on.

You slide your tongue along his rough, working hands, and he watches with lust burning in his eyes. You pop his thumb out of your mouth and replace it with the head of his cock. His thick shaft was heavy in your grip as you took more of him while not breaking eye contact. The weight of his cock resting in your mouth made you drool.

“Fuuuuuck, good girl.” Eddie’s breath became erratic.

Your eyes started watering as you tried taking him all the way down your throat, but Eddie was big.

Your breathing became shallow, but you were in heaven.

“You ok, sweetheart?” He’s looking down at you, a hand cupped on the back of your head, trying to resist the urge to thrust into your mouth as he hits the back of your throat.

You bob your head back slowly as you nod yes. You were finally able to catch your breath, drool coming out of your mouth as you pumped his cock in and out of your slick mouth.

Eddie couldn’t believe this was happening; not twelve hours ago, he was in a different state, jacking off to this fantasy of you on your knees.

He pulled you back up to kiss him, your pussy was throbbing, and the pulse that went directly to your clit was screaming for attention.

Moaning your name Eddie pushed you back so your ass was against the kitchen island, and you saw the hunger in his eyes.

He helps you jump onto the white marble countertop with quick hands.

“Baby, please.” An involuntary whimper came from your mouth, and he went in for another kiss, hands roaming from your inner thigh up until it reached your pussy.

“Oh baby,” he said the second he truly felt how wet you were for him.

Kissing down your neck, leaving purple bruises in his wake, not giving a care in the world right now about visible hickeys, he crept lower and lower until he was kneeling between your legs, forcing your knees open.

He stared into your heat.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.” He spoke, not breaking eye contact with your wet pussy.

He leaned in; he started with soft kitten licks to your clit with the tip of his tongue, gentle and delicate, before he took long deep strokes off his tongue, tasting every inch of you. Eddie moaned at your tase; he wanted to consume you, to make you feel so good you forget about every man before him.

The tickle of his beard was grounding you. This was actually happening.

“Oh!” You cry but quickly cup your hand over your mouth, remembering Char was upstairs.

With Eddie’s face pressed into your cunt your orgasm was quickly approaching. You couldn’t resist it anymore; your hips started gyrating into his face, and you needed more.

“Eddie, please,” you whimpered.

“You want more, sweetheart?” he pulls away and replaced his mouth with his index finger, slowly stroking up and down your weeping slit.

“Yes, Eddie, please.”

“That’s my good girl, asking so nicely,” he said, grinning up at you before standing.

With his hard cock in hand, he rubbed his tip up and down your slit gathering your juices so he could split into you nice and easy.

At this point, you were so turned on you couldn’t think, moaning out as he slowly stretched you open, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Inch by inch, the pleasure mixed with the burn of the stretch was so good, too good.

“That’s it, sweetheart, fuckin’ taking me so well.” He slipped inside of you until you felt the tickle of his pubes against your clit.

You hadn’t even realized he was talking to you, cock drunk off the feeling you were so close, and he hardly started.

Incoherent muffled moans filled the empty kitchen as Eddie's cock quickly started to pump in and out of you, hitting your sweet spot on each thrust.

You didn’t stand a chance, as he had your legs over your shoulders, ankles rolling. He gripped the backs of your calves to hold your legs as wide as they could go.

With each thrust, the pleasure became more and more, your back arching up into the feeling of him filling you up.

The feeling in your belly started to build until he unexpectedly pulled you off the counter, walked you over to the couch, and flipped you so you were on all fours.

Once you were spread open for him, he started thrusting harder.

“Oh god! There! Please don’t stop!” You screamed into the couch cushions.

It was so good your hands gave out, your cheek pressing into the brown leather, only making your ass stick out more for him.

He spreads your cheeks to watch how your greedy pussy swollen his cock each time.

A slap comes down hard on your ass as he pounds into you; you moan out with pleasure. Another smack on the other cheek to even things out.

He’s going at a pace that makes your head spin; his fingers gripped into your hips so rough you’re sure there will be bruising tomorrow.

The noises that are coming out of you are inhuman; you don’t even recognize yourself; he was so big, you were so full, it was too good. 

“shhhhhh, sweetheart, we need to be quiet.” He wraps a hand around your face to cup your mouth to muffle the moans, but that only makes it hotter, so you cry about again. You couldn’t talk; each thrust was getting deeper and deeper at the angle he was holding you in.

Each thrust was building up the coil in your stomach. You were so close when he started rubbing your clit, and you couldn’t take it anymore.

“I’m close,” you seethe through gritted teeth.

“Come, sweetheart, come on my cock.” You were already seeing stars before he finished talking; your body shook, clenching down so tight on his cock while your orgasm filled your body.

“Oh god, yes, baby, milk this cock so good” Your pussy gripped down so hard on his cock that he almost wasn’t able to pull out in time.

You feel his warm seed on your back as his orgasm shoots through him.

Dazed and all fucked out, you roll over to see Eddie beaming down at you after he cleaned you up a little bit.

“Hi, sweetheart.” Eyes glazed over, you manage a

“Hi,” you giggle.

You curled into his neck, leaving soft kisses and kitten licks; you couldn’t help yourself; your boyfriend was just so hot. 

“I think we have a lot of catching up to do,” he throws you over his shoulder. “Eddie, put me down,” you giggle, getting a full view of his bare ass in front of your face. He runs you to his bedroom; you know it is going to be a long night. 

[mobius-m-mobius]

#happy anniversary to remembering this actually happened 😘✌️

Loki S2 Anniversary x Episode 5 - “Science/Fiction”

[dollyfiles]

INTRODUCING.. SWEETHEART!READER ₊˚⊹♡

pure soul. doe-eyes. polka dots. red nails. dreamer. vintage. coffee and vanilla. mini skirts. lace. paired with single!dad!rafe.

SWEETHEART!READER who is a 25 year old waitress at rosie’s diner, a charming old-school spot with checkered floors, red vinyl booths, and a jukebox that still plays rock ‘n’ roll classics. she’s been working since she was barely a teenager, hustling to escape a rough home that taught her resilience but never hardened her heart. she earned the nickname sweetheart from the regulars—not just because she’s got a kind spirit and always a smile on her face, but because she has a way of making everyone feel seen, even on their worst days.

SWEETHEART!READER who is warm and generous, but still nobody’s fool. sweetheart got a vintage soul, soft curls in her honey smooth hair, a swing dress hugging her waist, and a swipe of cherry-red lipstick on her heart-shaped lips. she’s learned how to handle the flirty old-timers at the diner with ease, shutting down their bad pickup lines without losing her charm. she’s got a backbone of steel when it comes to standing up for herself and others, especially the new girls at the diner who might not have found their voice yet.

SWEETHEART!READER who has a deep love for music. when she’s alone in her tiny apartment, she’ll put on a record and dance barefoot in the kitchen, letting the music take her worries away. she also plays the guitar—and sings with a voice that could stop time. she is not a professional by any means, but she has a knack for whipping up the perfect homemade pie or a batch of warm cinnamon rolls. she also never leaves the house without her dainty gold heart-shaped locket necklace, which was the very last thing her granny gave her before passing away, leaving her to figure out how to handle everything on her own.

SWEETHEART!READER who has always been careful with her heart. she grew up seeing what happens when love turns into something heavy and painful, so she promised herself she’d never settle for anything less than the real thing. and then rafe and his little girl walked into her life, giving her security in a way she has never known. and once she falls, it’s deep. from the moment he saw her, it’s like something clicked into place. he wasn’t looking for love either, but there was something magical about her and despite their age difference, she softens the edges of his world in a way no one ever did before.

ᥫ᭡ how sweetheart!reader and single!dad!rafe met

ᥫ᭡ single!dad!rafe asking sweetheart!reader out

ᥫ᭡ how sweetheart!reader and single!dad!rafe’s first date went

.ᐟ layout credit/inspo: @rafesangelita

tags: @gibson-g1rl @dearapril @rafecami @fawnhart @isasweetie @beausling @angellocket @rafesbowbunny @rafesangelita @chris444evr @drewsephrry @littlelamy @sturn777 @bradshawed @cherrygirlfriend @trusweethrt @inspiredangel @whinyangel @et6rnalsun @luckycrys @bluemerakis @figthoughts @rafeysbangs

[dollyfiles]

how sweetheart!reader and single!dad!rafe’s first date went

sweetheart!reader mlist

cw: fluff, mutual pining, heavy tension, teasing, kissing

when rafe opened the front door, you were standing there with a tin of cookies cradled in your arms and a soft, hopeful smile painted across your face. your signature red lipstick caught the porch light, and your vintage sundress swayed lightly in the breeze.

but yet your eyes weren’t on him. they flicked over his shoulder almost immediately, scanning the hallway behind him with that familiar sparkle he’d grown to adore.

he leaned one arm against the doorframe, taking in the way your brows knitted just slightly in confusion. “you lookin’ for somethin’ back there?” he asked, lips tugging into a teasing grin.

you blinked and turned your gaze back to him, caught red-handed. “what? oh—no. i mean…” you laughed softly, holding up the tin in your hands. “maybe just a certain little girl who usually tackles me before she makes it past the diner door.”

rafe chuckled, stepping aside to let you in. “well, if it makes you feel better—she definitely would’ve. but tonight’s just us.”

you stepped inside, your heels clicking gently against the floor as you glanced around, still half expecting to hear lizzie’s excited squeal bouncing off the walls.

“just us?” you repeated, with the faintest note of surprise, and just maybe—though you’d never admit it out loud—a pinch of excitement and relief.

rafe closed the door behind you and gently took the tin from your arms. “don’t worry. she’s with aunt sarah tonight. movies and lots of popcorn. lizzie picked it herself. she told me, and i quote, ‘i gots to give you time to be nerviss, daddy.’”

your lips parted with a laugh, “she didn’t.” clasping your hand over your mouth. “she did,” he said with a smirk. “and even winked at me.” you shook your head fondly. “she’s a menace. a brilliant one.”

“wonder where she gets it from,” he murmured, casting you a look that made your cheeks go a little warm. rafe had just popped the lid off the cookie tin, about to sneak one, when something in the air shifted.

sniff.

his head jerked toward the kitchen, eyes wide. “crap—the sauce!” rafe set the tin down with a loud thud and made a beeline toward the stove, you right behind him in a trail of soft perfume and concerned curiosity.

“need help there?” you asked, half-teasing, as he hurried to stir the contents of a bubbling pot before it could start sticking.

“no. no—i got this,” rafe muttered, grabbing a spoon and giving the sauce a few gentle swirls, sighing in relief as it began to bubble less. “god, that would’ve been embarrassing.”

you leaned a little over his shoulder, peeking into the pot. “wait, is this the sauce?” he glanced at you, eyes crinkling at the corners. “what sauce?”

“the one lizzie told me about, like, five separate times. apparently it’s life-changing?” rafe laughed, “you tell me..”, dipping the spoon and giving it a quick blow before holding it out toward you. “c’mere.”

you leaned forward without hesitation, your lips brushing the edge of the spoon as you took a careful taste. your eyes widened. the sauce was rich, warm, and comforting, like it had been simmering all day just for you.

“okay,” you said slowly, licking a bit of tomato from your bottom lip. “wow. i didn’t expect it to slap this hard.” he raised his brows at you, “oh, it slaps?” rafe asked, grinning as the term was quiet unfamiliar to him. “is that a good sign?”

“a really good sign!” you nodded, mock serious. “it slaps. it dances. it waltzes across the tongue. who taught you how to do this?” he shrugged, pretending to look modest.

“a man learns a thing or two when he’s cooking for a tiny food critic who cries if there’s too much oregano.” you laughed, bumping your shoulder into his. “i get it now. she definitely wasn’t exaggerating.”

you two stood close now—close enough that your arm brushed his as he reached for a fresh sprig of basil, and close enough for you to smell the warm spice of his cologne, woodsy and clean, while only the soft sounds of the simmering stove filled the comfortable silence.

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

after dinner, the dishes sat forgotten in the sink—rafe insisted he’d take care of them later. the soft glow of a lamp pooling gold across the hardwood floors, and the gentle hum of an old record player filling the space with something low and romantic.

rafe returned from the kitchen with two glasses of red wine, handing one to you as you curled up into the corner of the couch. you had kicked off your heels, tucked your legs beneath you, and looked as if you’d belonged there all along.

the man settled beside you, not too close—at first. but something about your warmth, the faint scent of sugar and lipstick, pulled him in like gravity. he could definitely get used to this.

“can i ask you something?” you said after a moment, nervous fingers playing with the little heart pendant around your neck.

“shoot.”

you hesitated for a second, yet your curiosity took over. “what’s it really like? raising her on your own?”

he looked into his glass for a long moment before answering. “hard,” rafe admitted. “some days, it’s just bone-tired exhaustion. others, it’s the best damn thing in the world. she gives me purpose. but…” he paused. “sometimes i wonder if i’m enough.”

your expression softened. you turned toward him fully, your bare knee brushing his thigh as you shifted. “you’re more than enough, rafe. i see the way you are with her. she’s lucky. real lucky.”

he looked up at you then, something raw and surprised behind his eyes. “you really think so?”

“i know so,” you said gently. “and… i know what it’s like to grow up without that kind of love. you give her what most people only dream about.”

rafe reached out, fingertips brushing over your ankle, trailing slowly up to your calf as you remained still, eyes locked on his. the touch wasn’t rushed. it was reverent.

“you’re somethin’ else, you know that?” he murmured. you let out a soft laugh, heat rising in your cheeks. “you keep saying that.”

“because it keeps being true.”

his thumb swept slow circles against your skin, sending little sparks up your spine. you leaned into his touch, your glasses nearly forgotten now, resting on the coffee table. the music played on, while the distance between you two shrank with every word unspoken.

rafe glanced at you sideways, “you know,” he said, voice low and husky, “i didn’t expect any of this.” you tilted your head, curiosity flickering in your gaze. “any of what?”

“you..” he said. “after a long day… hell, after the kind of months i’ve had. i didn’t think i’d meet someone that made a hard day feel like it didn’t win. you looked at my daughter and made her laugh when i couldn’t. you… made me feel seen.”

that last part landed deep in your chest.

“and i certainly didn’t expect to want someone like this again.”

your breath caught in your throat. there it was—that ache, that buzz just beneath your skin, the kind that made your heart beat too fast in your chest. your legs still draped across his lap, your hand sliding down to rest gently on his arm.

“i didn’t expect you either,” you admitted quietly, your voice thick with something softer than nerves. “you’re the kind of good that doesn’t come around often.”

rafe shifted slightly on the couch—leaning in just a little, the space between you two shrinking like gravity was pulling you in. you sighed, laughing, “actually you’re kind of ruining me for diner regulars everywhere, you know that?”

he grinned, brushing his fingers gently up your thigh and pulling you closer by your hip, “good. that’s the plan.” you arched a brow, lips quirking into a soft, teasing grin. “oh yeah?”

“yeah,” he said, and his voice had dropped into something just shy of a whisper. you leaned in closer now—just a breath away from his mouth. “and are you gonna do something about it?”

your faces were close now. close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath, see the flecks of shine in his eyes beneath the lamplight. your gaze dipped briefly to his mouth, then back up.

neither of you moved.

not until he did.

rafe leaned in, slow, giving you every chance to pull away—but you didn’t. your lips met his with the softest brush, barely there. like a question. until they connected fully.

you kissed him with a kind of sweetness you hadn’t realized you were carrying for him all this time. your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, holding him closer as the kiss deepened—warm and aching, full of every look, every laugh, every almost-touch you hadn’t dared to cross until now.

his hand found the back of your neck, steady and grounding, while your knee shifted, drawing you even closer into his lap. the wine was forgotten. the room was forgotten. all you could feel was his mouth on yours, and the soft hum he made when you tugged him in just a little more.

when you finally pulled apart, your eyes fluttered open first, dazed and soft. “well,” you said, breathless and grinning, “now i’m definitely glad lizzie’s not here.”

rafe laughed, that low, husky sound that made your toes curl. “oh, i’m sure she’d never let me hear the end of it.”

“hm, i don’t know,” you said, voice syrupy sweet. “i think she’d be more mad you kissed me without her here to supervise. she’s been invested, you know.”

rafe huffed a laugh, turning to look at you with mock offense. “you makin’ it sound like i need her permission or somethin’.” you smirked, raising a brow. “don’t you?”

he stared at you for a beat, then groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “hell, you’re right. i do.” you giggled. “told you. that girl’s been three steps ahead of us since day one. if she finds out you made a move without her blessing, you’re gonna be in timeout.”

rafe’s eyes darkened just a touch—playful still, but with that unmistakable shift. that slow pull of heat curling between the two of you yet again. he leaned in a little closer, voice low and smooth.

“then we can’t let her find out…” he murmured.

before you could fire back, he caught your mouth in another kiss—this one deeper, more lingering. it wasn’t rushed or desperate, but it carried a weight of everything unsaid. a kiss that hummed with quiet need, with the warm buzz of wine and slow-burning tension. your hand slid into his hair without thinking, his fingers brushing over the bare skin of your thigh, sending a shiver through you.

when you finally broke apart, breath mingling in the soft space between you two, you let out the faintest laugh, resting your forehead against his. “she’d definitely know something’s up now,” you whispered. rafe grinned, lips still grazing yours.

“then we better behave for the rest of the night.”

tags: @inbred-eater @dearapril @isasweetie @beausling @rafecami @rafesheaven @rafeysbrat @rafesangelita @drewsephrry @rafesbowbunny @rafessecret @littlelamy @sturn777 @bradshawed @cherrygirlfriend @trusweethrt @inspiredangel @whinyangel @et6rnalsun @luckycrys @bluemerakis @lacyydollette @nemesyaaa @bruisedfig @rafekisser @tinythebunni @rcsbabydoll @rafesgreasycurtainbangs