Can we have more little reader x rafe and sofia
Sorry this took so long I’ve been in hospital. But here we go!!
I’m Sorry Darling
Little reader X Daddy Rafe X Mama Sofia
Summary: Rafe gets annoyed at a party and yells at Sofia in result scaring their little girl and causing an argument between the caregivers.
CW: angst, yelling, kinda bad language I think
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The party had been too much from the start.
You’d known the second the car pulled up to Toppers house. The lights were too bright. The music was too loud. People spilled out across the lawn in messy clusters of laughter, beer, and perfume that burned your nose. You tucked your face into Mama Sofia’s neck the moment she opened your door.
“Mama,” you whispered, not even a full word—just a breathy sound, paci tucked tightly in your pocket just in case.
She rubbed your back, adjusting her grip as she scooped you up into her arms. “I know, baby girl. We’re not staying long. You can stay with me the whole time, okay?”
You nodded sleepily, bunny crushed between you and her chest. The world felt big and you felt small, but that was okay. Mama was here. She smelled like vanilla and laundry and home. Her hand was steady on your back as she stepped through the crowd, whispering soft little things in your ear to keep you calm.
Daddy Rafe had been pacing.
He always got like this at parties—tight in the shoulders, quick to react, louder than he needed to be. But you were too little to understand why. All you knew was the way his voice shifted. How it lost its softness. How it started to sound sharp.
At first, it was just a barked laugh. Then a harsh word. Then—yelling.
“You wanna say that to my face?” He yelled at a girl continuously, words slurring as Topper tried to pull him away.
You flinched.
“Rafe—” Sofia tried, cradling you closer as you began to squirm.
“Hey man ignore them.” Topper said trying to diffuse the situation.
“Kinda hard WHEN THEYRE SAYING IT IN FRONT OF ME.” He got louder.
You flinched harder at the raised voice.
“Rafe, calm down” Sofia tried again, a slight sway in her step as she pulled your fist away from rubbing at your eyes.
“I said I’m fine Sofia!” he snapped.
And just like that, the air changed.
You couldn’t find your paci. You didn’t even notice it had slipped from your pocket. Your lip trembled. Your breath hitched.
Sofia took a step back, heart hammering.
“Look at her,” she said, pointing to your face. “You scared her.”
“I wasn’t yelling at her!” Rafe shouted, gesturing wildly. “God, why do you always—!”
“Enough,” Sofia snapped.
You let out a cry—a high, sharp one—your whole body tensing like you’d been struck.
That was it. She didn’t wait.
Sofia turned and stormed through the crowd, holding you like something precious and breakable. Your cries grew louder with every step. She didn’t stop to say goodbye. She didn’t look back at him.
And you didn’t stop crying.
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Back at Home
It took everything she had to keep her own hands steady as she pulled into the driveway. You were still crying in the back seat, your little fists rubbing at your eyes, face flushed and blotchy. The only word you could manage between sobs was “Mama,” over and over, desperate and broken.
“Mama’s here,” Sofia kept whispering as she unbuckled you, lifting you from your car seat and pressing kisses to your forehead. “I’ve got you, baby. I’ve got you.”
She brought you inside, straight to your room. You didn’t want to be put down. You screamed the moment she tried, so she rocked you in the chair for what felt like hours. Your bunny was damp with tears, and your cries didn’t quiet until you were skin-to-skin against her chest, chest rising and falling with tiny hiccups.
She bathed you slowly, massaged lotion into your soft skin, dressed you in your moon-print jammies. The whole time you clung to her with the strength of someone afraid they’d lose their anchor.
Eventually, the sobs turned to soft whimpers. She laid you in your crib, rubbing your back until your thumb drifted to your mouth. A small, tired “Mama…” was the last sound you made before falling asleep.
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2:17AM - The Door Opens
The door creaked.
Rafe stumbled in, voice thick with alcohol and regret. His keys hit the floor with a clatter, but he didn’t stop moving.
“Sofia?” he called into the quiet house. “Where is she?”
Sofia appeared in the doorway like a wave breaking on shore—calm on the surface, all storm underneath.
“You have some nerve,” she snapped. Her voice was low, lethal. “You yell in front of your fiancé and regressed girlfriend, storm off, disappear for hours, and then you come home drunk?”
“I wasn’t yelling at her, Sofia—”
“She doesn’t know that, Rafe! She doesn’t know! She’s not five. She’s not even three tonight. She was in baby space, and you terrified her.”
He paused, his face contorting into something between guilt and disbelief. “Is she okay?”
“No,” Sofia said sharply. “She’s not. She cried herself to sleep. She screamed the whole drive home. Every time she blinked she kept whispering ‘Mama.’ Like she thought I was gonna disappear too.”
“Where is she?” he asked again, voice cracking this time.
“She’s asleep,” Sofia said. “In her crib. Where she finally passed out after hours of rocking and crying because her father scared her out of her skin.”
Rafe swore under his breath, running his hands through his hair. “I didn’t mean—”
“No. You never mean it. But it keeps happening.”
“I’m doing my best.”
“You have got to do better.”
Just as her voice began to rise again, a tiny noise cut through the hallway.
A whimper. Then, a soft, breathy word.
“Mama?”
They both froze.
There you were, peeking out from behind the edge of the wall. Your bunny was dragging behind you, thumb in your mouth, knees wobbly beneath you from sleep.
Sofia moved first. “Oh, sweetheart…”
But as she stepped toward you, you shuffled back.
Your eyes lifted slowly—still glassy with tears—and landed on Rafe.
Your lip wobbled.
Then came the whisper.
“Dada…”
The room broke open.
Sofia gasped. Rafe stared like he’d been punched in the chest. That single word—only said when you were small enough to know what it meant—hit like a freight train.
“Dada,” you said again, louder this time, and then burst into tears. You stumbled forward, arms out.
“I got you,” Rafe whispered, rushing to scoop you into his arms.
You clung to him immediately, burying your face in his neck, sobbing harder than you had all night. Your little fists clutched his hoodie like you were afraid he’d vanish.
“I got you, baby. Dada’s here. Dada’s here now.”
He began rocking, slow and steady, heart pounding under your ear. “I’m so sorry, princess. Dada’s sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong. You’re my baby. You’re always my baby.”
You didn’t answer—couldn’t. You were too little. But your cries softened, your breath hitching as you slowly melted in his arms.
Sofia watched quietly, the fury drained from her features, replaced with something more exhausted. More tender.
“She’s not gonna forget this,” she whispered.
“I won’t let her be afraid of me again,” Rafe said, kissing your hair. “I swear.”
“She slipped even smaller,” she added, almost to herself. “She hasn’t called you ‘Dada’ in months…”
He swallowed hard. “I’ll earn it back. I promise.”
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Later That Night
You were nestled between them in their bed, pacifier back in your mouth, bunny clutched tightly in your arms. You didn’t understand the way they whispered across the pillows, didn’t catch every word. But the tone had changed.
It was soft again.
You heard Mama’s hum, felt Dada’s hand rubbing your back. You weren’t scared anymore.
You had your people.
And even though the world had felt too loud, too sharp, too scary just hours ago—now, wrapped up in arms that loved you, you were small and safe once more.
“Dada,” you mumbled again before sleep took you.
Rafe kissed your temple. “Right here, baby girl. Dada’s right here.”
And with that, the couple spent the last dark hours of the night holding their baby.
