#rafexreader

the scent of tom fords tobacco vanilla and victoria secret tease wafted in the back of the limo, filling your nostrils with the sweetest fusion. kind of symbolic, you thought, of you and rafe - the perfect pair.

your heel tapped on the floor of the car as you sat poised in your seat, rafe sitting to your right, arms rested on the tinted window seal as he gazed out onto the streets.

your eyes flickered to him every so often, almost like you couldn't help it, almost like there was simply a magnetic pull - always has been with the two of you.

tonight was the VMAs, and unlike the very beginning of your carreer, award shows were a lot less daunting. you were up for a couple categories, and even thus far into your career you couldn't shake the pre-show nerves.

dad!drew x pregnant!reader

warnings — fluff and stuff :)

summary — drew being overprotective when you leave a hotel to see a swarm of paparazzi and fans at the doorway

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You stand in front of the hotel room mirror, applying a final coat of mascara as Drew sits behind you, watching with an admiring gaze. You're both getting ready to head out to dinner, and you can't wait to dig into the food.

"Drew, I have been craving seafood all day," you say, setting the mascara wand down on the counter. "I hope they have some options at this restaurant." You groan, all you need right now is seafood, your whole pregnancy you had been craving it like clockwork.

Drew's face lights up with a smile. "You're in luck, because I checked the menu online and they have an entire section dedicated to seafood. You're going to be in heaven baby."

You let out a squeal, happy to hear that, and Drew gets up from his chair, walking over to where you stand. He drops to his knees, his hands on either side of your belly, and presses his lips to your stomach through the tight black dress, sending kisses all over your stomach. "Hey there, buddy," he coos, speaking to your bump. "Mama's been craving some fish, huh? Are you hungry, baby?"

As if on cue, the baby kicks, and you both laugh at that coincidence.

"Looks like someone's excited for dinner," Drew says, chuckling, looking at you.

You run your hand over your belly, feeling the pressure of the baby's kicks. "I think someone's been listening to our conversation," you say smiling.

Drew plants one more kiss on your stomach before standing up, holding out a hand to help you turn around. You take one last glance in the mirror, making sure your makeup is perfect, before grabbing your bag and nodding at Drew.

"Ready to go?" he asks, and you nod. as you head out the door, Drew wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. You lean into him, and step out into the hallway. As the elevator doors slide open, you and Drew step inside, pressing the button for the lobby. The ride down is quick and quiet, and your hands are interlocked with Drew’s as he kisses you on the cheek.

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𝄞𝄢 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: bad girls - verdine version by solange

ꨄ︎ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: boss!rafe x female reader 

➷ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: your marriage with your husband is falling apart and you choose to seek comfort with an unlikely source- your boss, rafe cameron. 

part 3 can be found here

.ᐟ 𝐜𝐰: swearing, failing marriage, infidelity, divorce.

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staying true to your promise, you came to work at seven in the morning. your husband was still refusing to give you a ride, so you caught the bus again. you sipped your latte as you walked to the building, your doc martens getting wet from the puddles on the pavement. it rained heavily last night, and it wasn’t looking too promising today either. but you didn’t mind, you loved the rain. your office floor was completely empty, which you expected. as you settled into your desk, you thought about the note and the smile you had given rafe.

but then you were instantly reminded about how that smile was not returned and how he didn’t even glance at the reports. with a sigh, you pulled out your old wired headphones and plugged them into your phone. your floor was way too quiet for your liking, and knowing that no one else was here with you was a bit unsettling as well. the music helped with your concentration as you typed, but that was soon disturbed as you felt a tap on your shoulder. 

somehow, you had a hunch who it was, you felt his cold touch throughout your whole body. rolling to face him, you fixed your posture and smoothed your skirt. you looked up at him, not expecting the frameless glasses  that sat on the bridge of his nose. reading glasses, definitely, because you’d never seen him wear them before. they made him look older, more mature, accentuating his pale blue eyes. they looked… good. you’d realised you had been staring- but so had he. so you cleared your throat as a signal for him to say whatever it is he wanted to say. 

“i looked over your reports last night. they were good. keep this up, and you’ll be fine.” he said, nodding. you weren’t expecting the praise, but you certainly had no problem with it.

“oh, well, thank you. I’ll have some more for you tonight.” you said, turning back to your desk. rafe took that as his cue to leave, so he made his way to his office. he sat down on the worn leather chair, glancing at the sticky note. he grabbed it and folded it up, about to toss it when he suddenly remembered the smile he had worn last night that had replicated that of the smiley face you had drawn. after toying with it, he opened his locked drawer and placed the sticky note next to the bag of joints he occasionally smoked when topper stopped by the office. 

he looked at you from his office window, thinking about what you had said yesterday. my marriage is falling apart. he didn’t even think you had a boyfriend, let alone a husband. you two were the same age, an age he considered way too young to be tied down like that. he wondered if that’s why you were so distracted when you spilled your coffee on him. the stressed look on your face, your furrowed brows- morphing into fear and guilt when he’d snapped at you. 

he tried to get a look at you through his office window, wanting to see if you were still wearing that worried look that never seemed to leave your face- except for maybe yesterday, when you gave him that small smile. he noticed, but didn’t know how to respond. everyone in the office feared him, rarely ever socialising with him unless necessary. but when your lips formed that smile, he couldn’t help but feel something warm inside him. 

“mr. cameron? you have a meeting in five.” his assistant called out. he nodded, and slammed the drawer shut, locking it immediately, as if he was caught doing something he shouldn’t. taking off his glasses, he rubbed his eyes and took another quick glance at you, only to find the same stressed expression as always. with a sigh, he prepared for his meeting.

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the next morning when you came in, you took a glimpse at rafe’s office, trying to see if him coming in early yesterday was just a one-time thing. when you saw the familiar figure typing on his computer, you knew it wasn’t. he took a sip from his cream-coloured coffee cup, and you noticed the order written on it. extra hot latte. the same as yours. you sipped from your own cup, the liquid burning your throat in the way you loved. 

a couple of days later, as you got off the bus and walked to the corner shop, you saw the ashy chalk sign outside, the pastel letters spelling ‘two for one deal on all hot beverages!’. your mind flashed back to rafe’s coffee the other day. should i buy him one? you thought, mentally listing the pros and cons in your mind. pros: there’s a deal on, it would be a kind gesture, and nothing bad can really come from it.  cons: he might have already bought one, i’m not that close with him, and he might not acknowledge it just like he didn’t acknowledge my smile. 

after a mini debate in your head, you decided to just buy him the coffee. you needed to get in his good books, and a small coffee wouldn’t hurt, especially if you knew his order.

“hi, could I please get two extra hot lattes?” you said, smiling at the man behind the counter. he smiled back, nodding, and punched in your order. you stood a little to the side, waiting for your number to be called out. anticipation consumed your body as you took the two coffees and walked to the office. you pressed the button for the seventh floor and nervously tapped your foot. noticing how your eyebrows were tense, as usual, you told yourself to relax. taking a deep breath, you waited as the elevator doors slid open and you stepped onto the faded checkered blue carpet. you set down your bag and coffee down on your desk, before grabbing rafe’s and checking if he was in his office, wondering if you were too early.

you were relieved to see that he was cleaning his reading glasses, placing them back in his case. he never wore them when everyone was around, and you wondered if he was embarrassed of them. he didn’t have a reason to be, they framed his face really well, accenting his high cheekbones. the coffee was growing cold in your hand, your reminder of what you were doing. your feet started moving on their own accord, following the path to his office. you knocked on the glass door softly. he saw you immediately, and gestured for you to come in. drawing in a breath, you walked in and noticed the curious glint in his eyes.

“mr. cameron- good morning. i couldn’t help but notice your, um, coffee cup yesterday. what i’m trying to say is that we have the same order and there was a two for one deal, and i thought you’d like a cup.” you explained, placing the cup on his oak desk, pushing it forward. you mentally smacked yourself, feeling the awkwardness simmer in the air. 

“not going to spill it on me?” he leaned in, and you couldn’t tell if he was serious or not. you stood, opened your mouth, then closed it again, at a complete loss for words. how were you supposed to reply to that? you uncomfortably shifted your gaze to the window behind him.

he sensed your unease quite fast, so he wrapped his hand around the cup and took a slow sip. “thank you. anything else?” he asked, noticing the slight relief flooding your face.

“no, not that i can think of.” you said, shaking your head. 

he nodded, running his hand over his buzzed hair. 

“um, i’ll be starting now. enjoy the coffee.” you smiled. god, there it was again. that stupid ass smile. you left quickly, embarrassed. this was rafe cameron you were talking to. you couldn’t possibly be smiling at this man. the coffee was only so that you move from the ‘i’m going to fire you’ part of the scale up to the ‘your place at this company is secure’ end. so, the coffee continued and the smiles didn’t.

the next few weeks you’d get two lattes instead of one, and rafe drank them every time. it was an unspoken agreement, something that had just snuck into your daily routine. when you first started doing it, you would stand awkwardly until rafe said his thank you, but the more often you came in, the more comfortable you felt. sometimes, if you were feeling like it, you’d draw little smiley faces on the cup before giving it to him, and you didn’t know it, but that made his day. everyday you’d come by his office, he’d mutter you a quick thanks, and you’d start work. except this morning. last night, things with your husband had gotten heated. too many harsh words were exchanged, and next thing you knew divorce papers were being thrown in your face. the words ‘there’s someone else.’ slipping from your husband’s mouth was the nail in the coffin. 

with your mind preoccupied, you walked past the corner cafe without a second thought. you priority was getting to the office and to start working as soon as possible, needing the distraction. you settled at your desk and pulled out your laptop, not checking if rafe was there or not as you usually did. 

rafe, on the other hand, did check if you had come yet, as it was reaching half past seven, later than when you usually came in. as soon as he saw you walk through the elevator doors, he felt something he couldn’t quite put a name to. relief, perhaps? no, of course not. after all, you were just another employee. who bought him coffee every morning. whose complicated marriage rafe knew about- not that he cared.

he waited for you knock on his door and give him the coffee. rafe kept waiting, but you never came. his eyebrows furrowed, his mind racing with questions why you hadn’t came, why you hadn’t even looked in his direction yet. his jaw clenched, impatience arising on his face. he wasn’t a very patient man. that being said, when half an hour had passed, he decided to confront you.

“can we talk?” he asked, his frustration not so subtle as you didn’t reply. you had your headphones plugged in, music drowning out your surroundings. “y/n.” he repeated with no luck. suddenly, lana del rey’s voice had been replaced with rafe’s as he took one of your headphones out of your ear, clearing his throat. the movement was rather startling as you were still on edge from last night’s fight.

"so, i noticed you didn't come into my office today." he stated, waiting for an explanation.

"oh, i guess my mind was elsewhere... i didn't stop by the cafe this morning. i'm sorry." you apologised, wondering if he was going to snap at you.

"no, uh, that's fine." his eyes flicked to the papers peeking out of your laptop case. you always handed in your reports at the end of the day, and the other half of your work was online. it made no sense for you to be carrying spare paper, especially in your laptop case.

scratching the back of his neck, he motioned his head to the case. “what’s that?” he asked, a demand rather than a question. you followed his eyes to the papers. fuck. you brought the divorce papers here to sign them, as last night you were still trying to process everything. “that’s… that’s none of your business.” you said, feeling that hollow pit in your stomach deepen.

“yeah, ok.” he nodded, but it wasn’t sincere. it was laced with irritance. you had no idea what to expect.  you couldn’t be freshly divorced and fired. “i’m your boss, y/n. if there’s something troubling you, i need to know.” he said. whatever you were expecting, it wasn’t that. you were caught off guard.

“tell me what’s wrong.” he urged, his voice an octave lower, tone slightly softer.

"here." you passed the papers to him and you blankly stared as rafe took in the words written on the papers. “you’re getting a divorce?” he asked quietly.

you nodded. "i'm sorry." he said, handing the papers back to you. you stuffed them in your laptop case and focused your gaze on a particularly boring piece of lint on his suit jacket.

he stared at you, noting your averted gaze and taking in the frown on your face.

you two stood there for a while, until the elevator dinged and other employees filed in. he gave you a quick nod and went back to his office. you plugged your headphones back in and thought about how easy it was to tell rafe about the divorce when usually you would've struggled with anyone else. taking another look at rafe, you signed the papers and shoved them into your bag. there was a weight lifted off your back.

𝐚/𝐧: hello! i hope you enjoyed part two because i have a part three in progress. thank you so much for reading <3. please let me know if you would like to see anything specific happen.

with much gratitude,

You didn’t expect him to show up.

Not after the ghosting. Not after the reckless nights you heard about through whispers and screenshots, Rafe Cameron in a backwards cap, beer-soaked and grinning like nothing ever changed. Like you hadn’t sat in the bathroom alone at three in the morning, hands trembling over a pregnancy test, realizing that your life had just split into before and after.

And he had dipped in and out, like a tide you couldn’t control. Sometimes there, sometimes gone. Always Rafe, but never yours.

So when your water broke at 3:47 a.m., and your best friend drove you to the hospital because your mom couldn’t get a flight in time, you weren’t thinking about Rafe. You were thinking about how scared you were, how your lungs felt too small for your chest, how the world was about to shift on its axis.

You didn’t call him.

And yet six hours in, hair plastered to your forehead, pain cutting through you in jagged waves, he came.

The door cracked open, and you didn’t look right away. You were mid-contraction, breathing through it, fists clenched around the sides of the hospital bed.

But then you heard it.

"Y/N."

His voice.

You turned your head. Slowly. Disbelieving.

And there he was. Rafe Cameron. A wrinkled T-shirt stretched across his chest, hoodie half-zipped, baseball cap turned backwards. Like he’d rolled straight out of bed, hopped in a car, and come here on fumes and impulse.

“What are you doing here?” you rasped, voice rough with hours of pain.

He stood awkwardly in the doorway, like he wasn’t sure he was allowed to come any closer. Like the room's gravity, your room, was heavier than he expected.

“I-I heard. Kelce texted me. Said you were at the hospital.”

Kelce. Of course. You closed your eyes and exhaled, but it wasn’t relief. It was something tighter. Something you’d taught yourself not to feel anymore.

You opened your mouth, but another contraction hit you hard and fast, and suddenly you were gripping the bed again, crying out. The nurse stepped in to check monitors, offering quiet encouragement.

By the time the pain passed, you were sweating and dazed. And Rafe was still there.

Closer now. Sitting in the chair near the bed.

“I didn’t know if I should come,” he admitted, voice low.

You stared at him. "But you did."

He looked at you then. Really looked. Your swollen face. Your clenched jaw. The quiet fire in your eyes that hadn’t gone out, even after all these months.

“I know I’ve been a piece of shit,” he said.

You blinked at him, almost laughing through the pain. “That might be the understatement of the century.”

He didn’t smile.

“I was scared,” he whispered.

Your chest twisted. “You think I wasn’t?”

His throat bobbed. “I didn’t know how to be this. A dad, a boyfriend.”

“You're not going to be perfect,” you said, voice cracking.

"I'm not, you just have to show up."

Silence bloomed between you. The kind of silence that made your heart ache.

“I never stopped thinking about you,” he said eventually. “Even when I tried to pretend this wasn’t happening, I still thought about you. About her.”

You froze. “Her?”

His eyes dropped to your stomach. Then flicked up to yours. “ I-I know it’s a girl.”

You swallowed, throat suddenly tight. “Yeah.”

Rafe reached into his hoodie pocket, fumbling with something. When he pulled his hand out, there was a crumpled sonogram picture in it. Folded and worn. One of the first ones you sent him months ago, before you gave up.

“I kept it,” he said softly. “I’d look at it when I was too drunk to breathe. It made me feel like maybe I wasn’t completely gone.”

Something broke in you then.

A sob tore out, raw and unexpected. You weren’t crying because of the pain. You were crying because you’d tried to stop caring. And here he was, too late and somehow still not enough, but part of you wanted to believe he meant it.

Rafe stood, slowly. His hand hovered above yours.

"Can I stay?"

You hesitated.

But then another contraction hit, and you didn’t have the energy to fight. You nodded, just barely, and he moved to your side, holding your hand as you cried through the pain.

He didn’t let go. Not when they wheeled you into delivery. Not when you screamed, cursed, bled.

And not when your daughter entered the world with a piercing cry that filled the room and shattered something inside both of you.

Rafe’s breath caught.

The doctor placed her on your chest, and you sobbed openly now from relief, from exhaustion, from love.

You looked over at him, expecting to see panic, fear, regret.

But Rafe was crying.

Silently, tears streaming down his face as he looked at the little pink bundle curled against your chest. His cap had fallen off, his hair a mess, eyes red and unguarded.

“She’s… she’s perfect,” he whispered.

You nodded, lips trembling.

He moved closer, brushing your hair back, pressing his forehead to yours. You should have pushed him away. But right now, in this impossible moment, you didn’t.

“I don’t know how to do this,” he whispered, voice wrecked.

“I don’t either,” you murmured.

“But I want to try.”

You didn’t answer right away.

But you let him stay.

And that was the beginning.

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💛✨🌊🌟🔥💛✨🌊🌟🔥💛✨🌊🌟🔥💛✨🌊🌟🔥💛✨🌊

Pairing : bf!Rafe x delulu!Reader

From the moment their eyes met, reader knew they were meant to be... She might have gotten carried away in the mean time, but Rafe doesn't mind it. The jumpscare can be scary though... 💛

sorry I didnt put this up yesterday I fell asleep

Warnings: Smut 18+ D/s

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Rafe finally pushes in inch by inch. Starting a rythme, deep and hard, one hand on your back, the other on your ass. Your shaking, from his deep fast strokes. They make you say thank you — JJ pulls out so you can answer. You can barely get the words out. “Thank you, sir” you said in a breathy moan. Rafe groans — “That’s my good girl,  you gonna cum?” as his rythme goes faster. And you frantically nod, "do it" he says and JJ gives you a breath from his lengthy, cock breathe pup take a breath yeah there you go JJ coos as you try to take a deep breath as you can but cant seem to manage. You come the first time — loud, twitchy, sobbing a little.  Rafe doesn’t stop — keeps going. JJ back in her mouth immediately. You overstimulated, trying to squirm, but JJ holding her steady “You wanted to run your mouth so bad,” he says, “so we’re using it.” Rafe grabs her face, “Look at me while I fuck you.” JJ cock still in her mouth, her head is now tilted up to look at Rafe.  Your second orgasm hits hard — whole body shakes, goes limp. Your slurring, and cant really from the words just breathless sounds around JJ length, after a few more thrusts. Hitting there orgasms, JJ warn heavy load shoots down your throat as your forced to swallow. Rafe follows soon after pulling out and cums on her back. After 2 minutes to catch their breath, they immediately wrap you in a blanket, placing her on JJs chest. Just as she’s trying to catch her breath—lips swollen, body wrecked, heart still racing—there’s a knock at the front door. Not loud, but shaking “Hey man, why’d you leave the party so quick?” John b. Her eyes go wide. JJ practically jumps off the bed. He throws her a shirt. She scrambles, still sticky and trembling. But Rafe? He’s already gone. Slipped out the window without a sound. Like a shadow. Like the devil never even showed. JJ moves toward the door, running a hand through his hair, trying to play it cool. “Gimme a sec,” he calls back. He turns to her, jaw tight. They lock eyes. No one says a word. Because John b's not dumb. And Rafe's car was parked right out front

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Just realized I didnt make the best split into parts cause it wasnt planned sorry❤

Part 1

STARSTRUCK (inspired) drew x fan!reader

warnings — none

summary — you are trying to get home when a celebrity hits you with a door.

you were in the city of new york, eager to get home after a long day. the city lights were shining, illuminating your path, but you're too tired to appreciate it. You've been looking forward to collapsing onto your couch, and shedding off the white dress you wore to a party.

As you turn the corner, you're suddenly slammed into by a door that read “set stage”, flung open by a suited figure. "Ow!" you cry out, clutching your head as you stumble backwards. Your world spins for a moment before you collapse onto the pavement. You lie there, dazed, and confused.

The suited figure, dressed in a black suit and tie, rushes to your side, "Oh my god, did I just hit you?" he asks, worry evident in his voice. You gaze up at him, your vision blurry, and reply with sarcasm, "No, the door just flung open by itself. Good job, door." You can't help but roll your eyes, even as a sharp pain shoots through your head.

He looks taken aback, but then mutters, "Oh, this isn't looking good." You struggle to sit up, wincing as the pain intensifies. As you take in the man's features, your eyes widen in recognition. You've seen that face plastered on billboards, magazine covers, and movie screens. "Wait, you're drew star—" But before you can finish, the man's hand closes around your mouth, his eyes darting around nervously.

"I'll get you free tickets to my movie if you don't scream my name," he says, his voice urgent in desperation. You shove his hand away, irritation flooding your system. "I don't want tickets to your stupid movie. I want to go home." You try to stand up, but the world spins again, and you stumble backwards.

“wait your not a fan of me?” He asks, visibly hurt.

you roll your eyes, “not in a million years.”