#ceo!Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

[rafecameronssl4t]

Business meeting || CEO!Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: Rafe’s 2 year old daughter being in an important business meeting with him :)

Warnings: none

Word count: 1,496

MASTERLIST (CEO!Rafe au masterlist)

The tension in the room was palpable, every executive on edge as Rafe Cameron sat at the head of the table, commanding the conversation with his sharp blue eyes and decisive tone. He leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping lightly on the polished wood of the table as he spoke with calm authority.

“If we don’t secure this merger by the end of the quarter, it won’t just be a missed opportunity—it’ll be a failure to assert the dominance we’ve worked years to establish,” Rafe declared, his voice cutting through the room like a blade. Just as Michael, one of the senior executives, cleared his throat to interject, he was abruptly cut off by a soft, high-pitched whine.

All heads turned toward the source of the sound as Rafe’s two-year-old daughter, Jade, toddled into view. Her golden curls bounced with every unsteady step, and her wide, ocean-blue eyes—so unmistakably her father’s—glistened with sleepiness. She reached up with her tiny hands, her bottom lip sticking out in a telltale pout as she let out another small whimper, silently pleading to be carried.

Rafe glanced down at her, his stern façade softening ever so slightly. With a quiet sigh, he leaned forward and scooped her up effortlessly, cradling her against his chest. Jade immediately settled, her head resting against his shoulder as her chubby fingers latched onto the lapel of his perfectly tailored suit. “Pass me the water,” Rafe said, his voice firm but laced with a subtle calm as he nodded toward the jug at the end of the table.

Kelce, sitting closest, quickly passed it over without hesitation. Michael, ever the opportunist, raised an eyebrow, trying to regain some semblance of control over the room. “Perhaps we should call Rachael to come and get her?” he suggested, his tone measured but laced with a hint of unease as he gestured toward Jade. “She’s fine here,” Rafe said curtly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

He shifted slightly, bouncing Jade lightly on his knee as she absently played with the gold signet ring on his finger, twisting it with quiet fascination. When her interest waned, Jade wriggled, and Rafe set her down with a quick pat on her back. She immediately began to wander, her tiny feet padding across the room as she made her way toward Kelce and Topper, stationed at the far end of the table.

“Hi, Jade,” Topper cooed, reaching out to pinch her cheek lightly as she babbled. Kelce’s face softened, a rare smile tugging at his lips as Jade reached her arms up to him, clearly expecting to be picked up. “Alright, princess,” Kelce said with a chuckle, lifting her onto his lap. Jade giggled as Topper tickled her side, her soft laughter breaking through the stiff atmosphere of the meeting.

Rafe glanced up from his papers, his gaze lingering on the sight of his daughter happily babbling on Kelce’s lap. A rare smile tugged at his lips, but his focus soon returned to the documents in front of him—until Jade spotted Kelce’s glass of rum and reached for it with a determined little hand. Topper quickly moved it out of her reach, his brow furrowing in mock seriousness. “Not today,” he said with a teasing wink.

Jade frowned, her bottom lip trembling before a soft, frustrated whine escaped her. Kelce and Topper exchanged panicked glances, both scrambling to soothe her, but it was no use. Her displeasure was mounting. The door to the conference room creaked open, drawing everyone’s attention. You stepped inside quietly, offering an apologetic smile as you closed the door behind you.

“Sorry for interrupting,” you said softly, your gaze immediately finding Jade. Rafe stood, his previously sharp demeanour softening as he walked toward you. “Don’t apologise,” he said, his voice carrying a note of warmth that rarely surfaced in the boardroom. “This meeting could use a little break.” “Mama!” Jade exclaimed, her little arms reaching toward you as Kelce stood to pass her over.

“Hi, baby girl,” you cooed, pressing a kiss to her rosy cheek before glancing around the room. “I hope she wasn’t too much trouble, gentlemen.” The executives shook their heads quickly, some even smiling at the interaction, the earlier tension in the room all but dissolved. “What time will you be home?” you asked Rafe quietly, adjusting Jade on your hip as she clung to you, her tiny fingers playing with the necklace around your neck.

“Before five,” Rafe replied, brushing a stray curl from Jade’s face as his thumb gently grazed your hand. “The boys want to play tennis with you this afternoon,” you said, your voice laced with fondness. Rafe chuckled, his eyes lighting up. “Do they now?” You nodded, laughing softly. “They’ve been talking about it all morning.” “Well, I’ll make sure I’m home early,” he promised, his tone leaving no room for doubt.

You smiled, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek. “We’ll see you at home.” As you left with Jade in your arms, Rafe returned to his seat, his gaze lingering on the door for a moment before refocusing on the table. The soft smile that had graced his face remained, a subtle reminder that even in his relentless world of business, his family came first.

[crookedteethed]

ᡣ𐭩 the good girl . • ° 　 .　 *　:.　the introduction (1)

synopsis -- Rafe is infatuated with you, his new secretary; something about a trip to Morocco. Rafe is in debt and wants you to pick up a bag of cocaine from Barry for him.

warnings: 18+ mdni mostly through Rafe's (perverted) pov, cursing, ward is still alive, smut but through fantasies, angst, Slight Dark! Rafe, drug/alcohol usage

a/n: I don't know anything about real estate so please don't take the buisness portions in this series seriously.

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter | word count: 3.2k

You and Rafe had four scheduled meetings together before noon, each one dragging on with the monotonous drone of old men discussing business.

Rafe, easily bored, found his attention drifting away from the discussions and towards you. He couldn't help but notice the delicate beauty marks scattered across your smooth crossed legs, a detail he had committed to memory by the third meeting.

He longed for your soft voice as he listened to the sound of flapping cheeks and tedious numbers being tossed back and forth. Every now and then, just to hear it, he would interrupt with a simple question in your ear: "You got that down?"

And in response, you would always give a respectful "Yes sir" or a subtle hum on quieter days.

Rafe would watch you intently as you quickly scribbled down notes about whatever mundane topic was being discussed by the mortgage broker--so you can recite to him later.

Despite the dullness of the meetings, he found himself amused by your presence and secretly looked forward to these moments shared between just the two of you.

And then, like clockwork, that smart ass Pope Hayward would lean in and whisper something in your ear, too, ruining everything for Rafe.

Hayward had worked for R&P, the mortgage brokers for Cameron Development, and would often attend their meetings. He always sat beside you, on the opposite side of Rafe, where he was conveniently hidden behind your body and out of Rafe's line of sight.

Rafe thinks this is a sneaky move on Hayward's part since Rafe had suspicions that Hayward may have a crush on you, which only fueled his anger towards Hayward and the meetings.

If Rafe ever discovered Heyward's true feelings for you, he wouldn't hesitate to resurrect the violence of their teenage years. He'd make you watch as he reminded Heyward exactly who you belonged to, letting Heyward's blood stain his thousand-dollar leather shoes. After all, what better way to prove his love than marking his expensive Italian leather with the consequences of wanting what's his? Some men send flowers – Rafe Cameron sends messages written in bruises and blood.

The boardroom felt thick with tension as Rafe's attention ping-ponged between the financial reports and the way Heyward kept leaning toward you. His knuckles turned white around his Mont Blanc pen every time Heyward whispered something in your ear, every time you smiled politely in response.

The irony wasn't lost on him – Heyward's own secretary sat barely three feet away, yet here he was, hovering over what belonged to Rafe. His secretary. His territory.

By the fourth meeting, Rafe found  himself on the brink of madness, his father, Ward Cameron, drawling tone grating on his nerves. 

Mentally detached, he fantasized about indulging in a line of cocaine to awaken his senses, only to have his mind wander to envisioning himself ravishing you right atop the conference table in full view of everyone. 

His imagination spiraled further, picturing the new maintenance girl he saw a couple nights ago, pleasuring you while you, upside down like a flipped turtle, sucking his cock. 

A sudden pang of guilt hit Rafe as he remembered that he needed to order another batch of his "special" supplies from Barry.

He wondered if you, his new secretary, would be willing to make the call for him. His former assistant would have handled it without question, but she was long gone now.

Rafe resumed thinking about you, him, and the maintenance girl having a very sexy threesome on the conference table; he's jolted back to the present as his father's voice rings out, drawing his attention to the press room, where every man's gaze is fixed on him. 

The gentle touch of your hand on the padded sleeve of his suit stirs him, and he feels like popping a boner from your warm touch. 

He asks Ward to repeat himself.

Ward's voice was agitated, his tone indicating his impatience with his son. "Rafe, I want you to deal with the Morocco situation," he repeated firmly.

Later on, Rafe fumed over his father's request in his newly personalized office. Rafe's response was harsh and tense as he spat at his father, "How fair is it to dump all of this on me?!"

He had initially been planning for a sleek, earthy-toned with a black and brown look for his office. But when you mentioned your preference for dark blue and white, Rafe couldn't resist. After all, he always looked delectable in those colors, you told him (and yes, delectable was the exact word you used). So Rafe dropped his original design and went with a nautical theme instead.

"Well, son," Ward's voice cut through the air like ice, "if you could tear your eyes away from your secretary for five minutes, you might understand why the Morocco deal is crucial for this company's future."

Rafe's jaw clenched. "I wasn't--"

"Save it," Ward interrupted, his calm facade cracking. "I've seen this before, Rafe. The way you look at her, how you've redecorated your entire office to her taste. Just like all the others." He leaned forward, voice dropping. "How many secretaries have we lost because of you? How many NDAs have I had to sign?"

The accusation hung heavy in the air. Rafe's hands curled into fists, his cerulean eyes darkening with something dangerous. "This one's different," he growled.

"That's what you said about the last one." Ward's laugh was bitter. "And the one before that. Face it, son - you're becoming predictable. By this time next month, I'll be interviewing replacements. Again."

"Look," Ward's voice dropped to a dangerous whisper, but Rafe wasn't about to let him finish that thought.

"No, you look," he spits at his father. "You're always pulling this crap on me - sending me off to do your dirty work like some kind of expendable pawn. 'Send Rafe to northwest Africa for two months, with our worst fucking clients' " Rafe said, fake laughing and clapping all the while." Well the joke's on me, isn't it?" Rafe's eyes blaze with anger and bitterness as years of resentment bubble to the surface.

The words flew out of Rafe's mouth like venomous arrows, each one stinging with a sharp and bitter rage. "You wouldn't dare do this to Sarah, dad--your perfect little princess. But me? I'm just the expendable son, right? Send me on a ten hour flight, unpaid, to fix someone else's mistakes!" His voice dripped with disdain as he imitated his father's words in a mocking tone.

But Ward was not cowed by his son's outburst. "Rafe, please just calm down and listen--"

Rafe's words were sharp as he cut Ward off. "Don't play dumb with me, Dad. I know exactly why you're sending me to South Africa - it's a punishment, a way to get rid of me." The tension in the office was thick and palpable as Ward yelled back, their argument echoing off the walls for all to hear.

But amidst the chaos, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of curiosity and nosiness. You had been waiting outside Rafe's office, ready to deliver an urgent message about his 3 o'clock lunch meeting with another Mortgage Broker, Dennis Rutherford.

As time ticked by and Rafe's chauffeured car waited impatiently outside, you knew you had to intervene before it was too late.

Bursting into the office uninvited, you were greeted with the sight of father and son locked in a heated battle, their words laced with anger and resentment. This was not just another work disagreement - this was a deep-rooted family conflict that threatened to tear them apart.

"I'm sorry, gentlemen." you awkwardly say, getting both men's attention. 

Had it been anyone else, Rafe would have immediately fired them for barging in like that. However, since it was you—and he hadn’t yet had the chance to sleep with you—Rafe merely shouted a sharp "What?!" that made you recoil in fear. He felt awful about your reaction but thought he could make it up to you later when his tongue is knee-deep into your pussy.

"Your 3'oclock, sir--with Mr.Rutherford." You say, trying to mask their intimidation.

"Shit." Rafe cursed, swiping a hand across his growing buzzed head. "Did you call the chauffeur?" he asked you. 

You acknowledge with a bow of your head, responding, Of course, sir, as you pass his briefcase into his hands. Rafe longed to refer to you as his good girl, yet with his father present in the room—and after already being seen openly "oogling" you earlier by his father and possibly others—he hesitated. 

While escorting Rafe from the office, he looks at you and remarks: 

"Join me and Rutherford for lunch."

Your heart races as you scramble to find an excuse. "I-I have a mountain of work to catch up on--"

"I don't recall asking you," he sneers, cutting you off. "I was telling you."

Twenty minutes past the scheduled meeting time, and Rafe had already downed three vodka shots, each one burning away at his paper-thin patience. The bar at Roots, despite its upscale pretense, felt suffocating.

You'd been to countless lunch meetings with him before, but something about today felt different. More dangerous. Maybe it was the way his leg kept brushing against yours under the bar, or how his cerulean eyes seemed to devour you between drinks.

Rafe Cameron, with his old money and expensive tastes, ordered another round. You watched, entranced despite yourself, as the alcohol stripped away his careful facade, revealing something raw and hungry underneath.

"Have a drink with me," he murmured, his voice honey-thick with liquor. His glazed eyes fixed on yours, holding secrets you weren't sure you wanted to understand.

"I believe one of us should stay sober, sir," you replied, fighting to keep your voice steady. The 'sir' slipped out automatically, and you watched his pupils dilate at the word.

A dark smile played at his lips as he closed his eyes, savoring your voice like another shot of vodka. Something about your presence seemed to intoxicate him more than the alcohol – a power that thrilled and terrified you in equal measure.

His hand found your knee under the bar, and you clutched your purse tighter, using it like a shield. Rafe noticed – he noticed everything about you – and his smile turned predatory.

"Just one drink," he pressed, sliding a virgin cocktail toward you. "Let go for me." The 'for me' sounded more like a claim than a request.

Forty-seven minutes in, Rutherford finally arrived to find Rafe thoroughly drunk and dangerously unraveled. The moment shattered as Rutherford launched into a tirade about debts – \$250,000 worth of them, spread across every loan shark in the city.

You shifted in your seat, uncomfortably aware of Rafe's heat beside you, the way his expensive cologne mixed with top-shelf vodka.

"The money's coming," Rafe slurred, but his eyes remained sharp, calculating. "Big deals in the pipeline. Major commissions."

Rutherford's lip curled in disgust. "Better hope so, Cameron. Or things get ugly."

The threat hung in the air like smoke. Rafe's fist clenched on the bar, his other hand still burning against your knee, his whole body vibrating with barely contained violence.

His thoughts scattered between the mounting pressure, the need for chemical escape, and the way your pulse jumped in your throat every time he leaned too close.

Without realizing it, Rafe grabbed your shoulder roughly and whispered in your ear, nearly dislocating your shoulder blade in the process.

Rafe's desperation was palpable as he leaned in closer, his voice a low murmur. "I need you to do something for me," he said, his eyes locked onto yours. "There's a guy named Barry. He's got something I need. I need you to pick it up for me."

Your heart raced as you realized what he was asking. "What is it?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

Rafe hesitated, his gaze shifting away. "It's a bag of cocaine," he admitted finally. "I need it to clear my head, to think straight. And I need it now."

You knew the risks, but Rafe's desperation was undeniable. He was in deep trouble, and he needed your help, as you looked in those glossy cerulean eyes of his. "Alright," you sighed, "I'll do it. But this is the last time, Mr. Cameron, what will your father think?"

"What he thinks of me already—that I'm just a Rafe, his screw-up of a son," Rafe replied. Despite this, a look of relief spread across his face, although the predatory gleam in his eyes remained. He fumbled in his pocket and pulled out a crumpled business card, pressing it into your palm with trembling fingers. His touch lingered longer than necessary, sending an involuntary shiver down your spine.

"Barry works out of the Bellamy Building on 5th," he whispered, his hot breath reeking of vodka against your ear. "Suite 401. Tell him Rafe sent you. And for God's sake, don't let anyone follow you."

Rutherford watched this exchange with cold calculation, his jaw clenched tight. He knew exactly what was happening – he'd seen plenty of rich boys like Rafe drag their employees into their mess before.

You gathered your things, trying to ignore how Rafe's eyes followed your every movement. Just as you stood to leave, he grabbed your wrist, his grip tight enough to bruise.

"One hour," he hissed. "I need it in one hour. Don't disappoint me."

The weight of what you'd agreed to settled heavy in your stomach as you walked toward the exit. Behind you, you could hear Rutherford's gravelly voice resume his threats, but Rafe's attention remained fixed on your retreating form until you disappeared through the door.

The Bellamy Building loomed like a tombstone against the afternoon sky, its worn brick facade a testament to forgotten glory. Inside, the elevator's slow climb gave you too much time to think – about Rafe's hungry cerulean eyes, his lingering touches that burned like brands, how every "yes, sir" seemed to draw you deeper into his web.

Suite 401 lurked at the end of a dimly lit hallway, distinguished only by tarnished brass numbers. Your knuckles rapped against the door – twice, then three times, just as Rafe had instructed. The sound seemed to echo down the empty corridor.

The door creaked open just enough to reveal a sliver of face: tired eyes beneath greasy long black hair, calculating and cold. "Barry?" Your voice emerged steadier than your racing heart. "Rafe Cameron sent me."

The door groaned wider. Barry matched his surroundings perfectly – disheveled but alert, like a crow picking through society's remains. His office was a study in decay: nicotine-stained walls, flickering fluorescent lights that made everything look diseased, and an ancient desk that had witnessed too many secrets.

"Well, well," Barry's lips curved into something that wasn't quite a smile. "Another one of Rafe's girls." He studied you like a specimen under glass. "You know, you're all starting to blur together. Pretty. Proper. Corruptible." The last word dripped with dark amusement.

He slid a small package across the desk, but when you reached for it, his fingers trapped yours. You jerked the package away.

Inescapably, Barry's raspy laugh followed you as you ascended down the hallway, bouncing off the grimy walls like a bad omen. "Tell Rafe his debt's getting steep," he called after you, his voice dripping with dark amusement. "And honey? Better watch yourself! Pretty secretaries like you have a way of… disappearing around Rafe Cameron."

Barry's laughter echoed through the grimy hallway, following you like a shadow as you rushed toward the elevator. Each click of your heels against the worn floor seemed to mock you: Pretty. Proper. Corruptible. The words burrowed into your mind, mixing with memories of Rafe's heated stares and possessive touches.

Your mind kept circling back to Barry's words – "disappearing around Rafe Cameron" – like a moth drawn to a deadly flame. The phrase echoed in your head, mixing with memories of Rafe's possessive touches and hungry stares. Each floor the elevator descended seemed to bring a new question: How many secretaries came before you? Where did they really go?

The package felt heavier in your hands as you realized maybe it wasn't just cocaine Rafe was addicted to – maybe it was the thrill of watching people fall into his web, one pretty secretary at a time.

The elevator doors couldn't close fast enough. In its mirrored walls, your reflection looked different somehow – as if Barry's words had marked you, changed you. Your phone buzzed in your purse, Rafe's name lighting up the screen, and you realized with a shiver that maybe Barry was right. Maybe you were already corrupted – after all, here you were, picking up cocaine for your boss in a building that reeked of broken dreams and dirty money.

But that didn't mean you were corrupted by Rafe specifically… right? This was just part of the job. Just another task, like scheduling meetings or taking notes while he stared at you across the conference table. Just another "yes, sir" in a long line of things you told yourself were purely professional. Even if your heart raced every time he got too close. Even if you kept saying yes to things that crossed every line you'd ever drawn.

You were just doing your job. At least, that's what you kept telling yourself.

Back at Roots, you found Rafe alone, Rutherford's absence heavy in the air. His hands trembled as you passed him the package under the bar, his relief palpable. Without a word, he grabbed your wrist and led you to the private bathroom in the back.

The fluorescent light buzzed overhead as Rafe arranged neat lines on the marble countertop. You turned to leave, but he caught your reflection in the mirror.

"Stay," he commanded softly. Then, more vulnerable: "Please."

You watched as he inhaled sharply, his body relaxing as the cocaine hit his system. When he straightened up, his eyes met yours in the mirror – pupils blown wide, but somehow clearer than before.

"Barry mentioned the money you owe him," you say carefully, your voice echoing off the pristine walls of the family restroom. The fluorescent lights cast harsh shadows across Rafe's sharp features as he straightens up from the sink, wiping his nose with the back of his hand.

Suddenly, the mood shifts. His cocaine-induced sniffles transform into something that sounds devastatingly like tears.

"You know what scares me?" Rafe says slowly, his cerulean eyes never leaving your reflection. "Not the money I owe. Not my father. Not even my fucking addiction." His voice cracks perfectly – a rehearsed break he's perfected over years of practice.

"I'm nothing but Dad's fuck-up son. A disappointment. A monster." He laughs bitterly, running a trembling hand through his hair. "But you… god, you're different. You're so good, so perfect. The best secretary I've ever had." His voice drops to a reverent whisper. "The way you anticipate my needs, how you handle everything with such grace. The only one who's ever really seen me, really understood."

His fingers trace your reflection in the mirror, and his eyes darken with something dangerous. "You're too pure for this world, too good for someone like me. The way you look at me like I could be better… like I'm worth saving…" He shakes his head, voice thick with manufactured emotion. "It kills me knowing I'll destroy you too. Just like I destroy everything else I touch. But god, you make me want to try to be better."

Your heart ached at his words. Without thinking, you reached up to touch his cheek, your palm cradling his face as if you could hold his broken pieces together. "You're drunk Mr. Cameron, you don't mean any of these things do you?"

"Rafe," he interrupted, leaning into your touch like a starved man finding sustenance. "Please… just call me Rafe." His cerulean eyes bore into yours with an intensity that made your breath catch.

But you noticed, even through the haze of this intimate moment, how Rafe never actually answered your question. Like everything else with him, the vulnerability was a beautiful distraction from the truth.

You saw the vulnerability in his eyes, the pain, the self-loathing. It made you want to save him, to prove him wrong about himself. And that's exactly what he was counting on.

Because what you missed, in that moment of compassion, was the calculating gleam behind his tears. The slight upturn of his lips as you fell perfectly into place. The way his hand tightened possessively on your waist, marking you as his next conquest.

"I know I can be a lot sometimes, but I need you to stay my secretary, whatever happens," he whispered against your palm, each word carefully chosen to ensnare you further. His lips brush your skin as he speaks, making the moment feel more intimate than it should. "Because you're the only person in my life who sees me. Really sees me."

The confession lands exactly as he intended – a perfect mix of vulnerability and need that makes it impossible to refuse him. Rafe knows what he's doing, dropping these words like anchors to keep you tethered to him, and the worst part is that it's working.

You hadn't known exactly what Rafe meant by that "Really sees me"--or any of the other drunken babble, but seeing as he was clearly heavily intoxicated, and needed your comfort, that didn't matter now. You whispered back words of comfort, of understanding, unaware that each soothing word was another step deeper into Rafe Cameron's carefully laid trap.

Meanwhile, Rafe Cameron smiled into your palm – a predatory curve of lips that you couldn't see from your angle, the kind of smile that should have warned you that comfort was the last thing he actually needed.

The bathroom's fluorescent light flickered once, casting strange shadows across his face. In that brief moment of darkness, his mask slipped, revealing something hungry and triumphant in his expression. But by the time the light steadied again, all you could see was the broken man you desperately wanted to fix.

After all, the best predators know exactly how to play wounded.

a/n: thanks for making it to the end of this chapter!! as always all likes comments, and reblog keeps me motivated! 💕🫶🏾

Taglist -

@trapistani @alexxavicry @rafestoothbrush @ttrinity @jjmaybankmylovee @slut4rafey @Itristessedureratoujours @hittmeandtellmeyouremine @yoongling @lilithblackkk

[cybersunnie]

the look of love | collection

RAFE CAMERON meets the new art teacher.

includes fem!teacher!reader / uncle!rafe / reader goes by "miss sugar" / fluff / grumpy x sunshine / family dynamics / safe to read! / wc 1.5k

Sarah already had her own family. Two rascals, Jackson and Josie. Meanwhile, Rafe didn’t. He had no kids. Nada. Zero. And he planned to keep it that way for a while.

As much as he loved his niece and nephew, they depleted his desire to have any. They were both rowdy and talkative and an awful lot like their parents. 

It scared him. 

He didn’t need more John B’s and Sarah’s walking the earth. Those little devils.

And yet, he was on his way to pick them up from school.

He never had to before. It was typically JJ, Kie, or anyone who wasn’t him. But apparently, the Pogues were more swamped than usual and had a ‘customer issue’ at their little Surf Shop. Whatever that meant.

Safe to say, Rafe wasn’t too thrilled about it. He was a busy man—the CEO of Cameron Development, to be exact. Children didn’t fit in his schedule. At least, that was what he told himself on the lonelier, quieter days. But family was family, as his dad always said. So, when his sister had called him, pleading, he reluctantly agreed. 

When he pulled into the pick-up zone, driving along the curb, he spotted his niece and nephew. They were hard to miss, not only because they were the only kids in front of the school, but because of the woman accompanying them. You. 

With the sweetest smile Rafe had ever seen, you stood between them, hands clasped behind your back, your eyes darting between the two children as they talked over each other. 

Rafe stopped in front of them and rolled the windows down. The youngest of the two, Josie, was the first to notice. 

An exaggeratedly loud gasp left her lips, her eyes wide. “Uncle Rafe!” 

That set off a chain reaction. 

Jackson looked up, his brows furrowed. “Uncle Rafe?” 

Rafe didn’t know if he should feel offended.

Then, your gaze shifted away from the kids, meeting his eyes through the passenger window. Time slowed. He saw your smile soften, and you waved at him. His heart lurched out of his chest, the feeling foreign and borderline uncomfortable. 

What the fuck?

But he didn’t have time to dwell on the feeling as his niece and nephew rushed towards his car.

“Uncle, uncle, uncle,” Josie chanted, panting like she ran a mile. “You’re pickin’ us up?”

Jackson stared at him with narrowed eyes. “You never pick us up.” 

Damn, what was this kid’s problem?

“Yes, Josie. And, well, they’re busy at the Surf Shop,” Rafe sighed, unlocking the car doors to let them in. “So, you guys got me for today.”

Through the rearview mirror, he watched the children clamber into the vehicle, feet kicking and hands flying as they argued about trivial matters—I always sit on the left side! So? I got in first. You’re being a butthead! I’m telling mommy you called me a butthead!—and so on. He chuckled, his lips curving into a grin.

Suddenly, you spoke, “They’re special, huh?” 

Your voice was warm and inviting. He didn’t know a person could sound so lovely.

When Rafe looked at you, he forgot how to speak. Every word he knew? Gone. And you barely did anything. You were just standing before the passenger door, staring back at him. He couldn’t help but notice the smudge of orange paint on the bridge of your nose. 

“Yeah, definitely,” he ultimately said, nodding.

You extended your right hand out to him through the open window. He saw more dried paint on your fingertips. “I’m Miss Sugar, the new art teacher here.”

Ah, that explained it. 

“Rafe.” He shook your hand, his eyes locked on your face. Your hand felt soft but far from fragile. “Rafe Cameron.”

“It’s so nice to meet you,” you beamed.

Did you ever stop smiling? Your cheeks should be hurting at this rate. 

He nodded, letting go of your hand before he looked like a creep. “Pleasure’s all mine.”

“Oh, Uncle Rafe,” Josie called, rummaging through her backpack, “me and Jackson made a paper chain thingy with Miss Sugar! Look, this one’s you!” 

He turned his head, eyes squinting at the paper doll chain she held up. Josie explained they made it during the after-school program, where she and Jackson spent a few extra hours each day. There were nine cut-out paper dolls, with what he assumed to be Josie at the start and him at the end. It was rough around the edges, but what did Rafe expect from a five-year-old? And the longer he stared at it, Rafe figured he was a last-minute addition, his hand glued to Sarah’s doll, the paper there wrinkled. 

From the corner of his eye, he saw you tilt your head into his car, looking at the kids. You seemed proud. It made him wonder what it felt like to have someone be proud of him.

“That’s really nice.” Rafe looked at his niece, who grinned brightly at his praise. He then stared at the frowny face drawn on his doll. “Why’s everyone smiling except for me?”

“Because you’re always grumpy,” Jackson replied bluntly. 

Little Josie slapped a hand over her mouth and erupted in giggles. Of course, his nephew was the one behind it.

Seriously, did this kid have a vendetta against him?

“Okay, you—” Rafe caught sight of your amused expression, and he bit back his words, “—I’m not always grumpy.”

You tried to cover up your laugh with a cough. “Yeah, he doesn’t look grumpy right now,” you defended, though it was far from convincing. Then you shot him a wink, and the gears in his mind stuttered and fell apart. Were you flirting with him? Or was it more of an ‘I got your back’ sort of wink? 

Fuck, why did he even care? He needed to pull himself together. 

“Anyways, I have to get back now,” you sighed, and the kids protested almost immediately. He saw a frown tug on your features, and you moved to the backseat window, cooing a mix of ‘I know’ and ‘I wish I could stay longer’ that eased their complaints. Eventually, you moved to the passenger window again, telling him a sweet, “Get home safe.”

Rafe felt himself having to fight back a smile. “Thanks.” 

You pursed your lips, your fingers tapping the window seal. “Don’t be a stranger, Rafe Cameron,” you said, stepping back from his car.

Jackson and Josie shouted their goodbyes to you before he could respond, but your words rang in his ears. Don’t be a stranger. He watched you wave to him and the kids before turning on your heel, your long skirt dancing around your legs as you made your way to the school’s entrance. Once you disappeared behind the door, he eased off the brake and pulled out of the pick-up zone.

As Rafe drove the kids home, the wind whipped through the open windows, the music on the stereo hummed softly, and his niece and nephew whispered to each other in the backseat. What about? He didn’t know, nor did he want to know. But he suspected they were up to no good. 

Josie cleared her throat with an over-the-top ahem, ahem! “Uncle Rafe?”

“What?”

She didn’t waste another second. “What you think of Miss Sugar?”

Rafe stared hard at the road. He had many thoughts about you: beautiful, messy, stunning, smiled too much, gorgeous. 

“Uh, she seems nice,” he answered, glancing at her through the rearview mirror. “Why?”

“Just wondering!” Josie chirped.

Silence fell between them.

He thought that would be it, and then he heard more whispering. Dread flooded his body. Rafe tweaked the stereo volume higher. They hadn’t caught that you piqued his interest, right? No, that would be ridiculous. They were kids. They would be none the wiser.

At least, he thought so until his niece asked, “Do you think she’s pretty?”

No wonder the Pogues called her Nosy Josie. It all made sense now. And, of course, he thought you were pretty. Who wouldn’t?

Rafe sucked in a breath, scratching his brow. “I’m not answerin’ that.”

Jackson grumbled, “I told you, Josie.” 

“You didn’t!” 

And a new argument ensued. But for once, Rafe was content listening to their high-pitched shouts because that meant the attention was off him. He didn’t want to be pestered about you any further. If Josie had kept pushing, he feared he would be sent down a rabbit hole, you consuming his thoughts.

But maybe he had already fallen down the rabbit hole. He was just too busy denying it.

Soon, Rafe arrived at their home, and the kids hopped out of his car and ran to their parents. Sarah thanked him for picking them up as John B took them inside—Josie sat on his hip, with Jackson walking beside him. He brushed it off, even offering to pick them up from school more often. His sister looked surprised and a little skeptical, but she didn’t question his change of heart. 

While Rafe Cameron didn’t have time for children, he could make time for you.

sunnie speaks! i realized miss sugar is barely in this WHOOPS!!! but i hope you guys found his dynamic w jackson and josie fun, haha! i sure had a fun time writing it :D let's chat about rafe cameron / teacher!reader

if you like my work, consider following @sunniefics to stay up to date on all my future fics!

[inlovewithpandora]

ᥫ᭡ — Change of Heart

Artists — Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Genre — Oneshot

Lyrics — In the past you weren’t ready to have a child with Rafe due his signs of immaturity and irrational behavior but now that he’s transformed his life and made all the improvements you wanted him to now you’ve had a change of heart, now you’re ready for a baby.

Music Advisory — Father’s Day themed fic, smut (17+), p in v, unprotected sex, established relationship, mention of drug dealer!race and use of drugs

Duration — 1.1k words

Words from Artist — Since yesterday was Father’s Day I wanted to post something that could have something to do with the holiday so this is my vision of a “Father’s Day” for Rafe, showing the first steps in him becoming a father. Always feel free to comment and reblog, I love reading y’all reactions! I hope you enjoy!!

Current Platforms — main m.list・obx taglist・navigation

Rafe knew very early on in the relationship that you were the one for him. The one he wants a long lasting relationship with, wants to become his wife, and most importantly the mother of his children so when he thought the time was right he brought up the topic to you assuming you would feel the same way but he was wrong. You weren’t ready to start a family and you didn’t feel like he was either despite what he was telling you. He was showing signs of immaturity, thinking irrationally and doing things without the thought of the consequences, getting into fights and coming to you with a busted lip or worse, him dealing and consuming hard drugs, and sometimes his decision making skills weren’t the best.

It’s been almost three years since you told him the reasons why you weren’t ready to have a baby and the man has made a complete turn around of his behavior since then. He’s stopped selling and doing drugs and has taken over the family business and is doing very well as the CEO. He's more mature and taking things more seriously, thinking with his brain and how his future actions can cause unwanted problems. And even though it’s a miniscule change and has nothing to do with your boyfriend's abilities or skills, you just love the way he wears his hair now. You liked him when he had his middle part with bangs but the style he has currently, his beautifully blonde buzz cut truly makes you weak in the knees for the man.

Things have surely improved for Rafe, he’s finally morphed into the man he’s always wanted to be, the man he wanted to show you that he was capable of becoming. Rafe’s happy and confident in his transition and you can see it in his attitude, all the insecurities and pent up rage he used to bottle up inside has finally melted away, making you feel so happy and proud of him for changing his life around for the better.

Seeing all his improvements and new way of life helped you come to the conclusion that you want more in your relationship, you want to bring new life into the world, something that’s a product of the love you both share. When Rafe came home from his last meeting of the day it wasn’t long before he had you stripping in front of him and pushing you onto your back against the mattress, giving his dick a few quick strokes before sliding into your already dripping heat. He was finally able to make the business deal he’s been working on sealing for months so this is the way he wants to celebrate, fucking you until tears are streaming out of those pretty eyes of yours.

“R-Rafe— fuck!” You scream out while dragging your freshly done nails across his back, feeling the coil in your stomach about to snap for the third time tonight. His mouth attaches to your skin, pressing wet kisses against your neck while obsessing with the way your creamy pussy is just deliciously sucking him in, pushing him closer and closer to his peak.

“Love this fuckin’ pussy.” He mutters barely above a whisper as he increases his pace, using his strong and thick biceps to lift him up so he can watch the way your face screws in pleasure and look down at the magnificent sight of you milking him for everything he has.

You know he’s close, you can tell in the way his abdomen is spasming and the sensation of his dick throbbing around your walls. You’re already anticipating the feeling of his cum decorating your insides, the thought of him doing his part in making you a mother is making everything so much more attractive and passionate in your eyes. Your body begins to override your thoughts, your legs wrap around his waist and you cross your ankles together, locking him in position so he won’t have the ability to pull out and spill his load on another part of your body. “Come inside.” You whisper in one breath, making your boyfriend's eyes lock with yours and his head to turn slightly to the side.

“Huh?” Rafe’s never heard you speak like this before during sex, he doesn’t know if you’re being serious or if you’re just dick drunk and saying whatever your pussy tells you to. While he’s trying to figure out if your statement has any true meaning behind it his pace doesn’t decrease, giving you the opportunity to attempt a move you’ve never done before.

You begin to roll your hips and tighten your legs around him, bringing him closer to you before clenching around him with all your might, trying your hardest to squeeze it out of him. “Nut in me, Rafe. I wanna make you a father, wanna give you a baby.” You whine, tears filling your eyes with shuddered breaths, feeling yourself growing frustrated that he hasn’t filled you up the way you want him to yet.

“You serious? You sure you wanna do this now? You weren’t ready for a baby before and if I do this there is no going back and I just wanna make sure—”

“Yes, Rafe I’m sure! Just fill me up already, please!” You move your hands to his hips, trying to make him start moving again since he stopped when he was trying to figure if you were okay with the decision of doing what it takes to have a baby. The desperation in your voice is so thick, it’s clear you truly want this and Rafe feels like that if you're ready for a baby then he is too so it doesn’t take much more convincing for him to comply with your request.

“If my baby wants to get knocked up then I'll do it.” It only took a few thrusts, some moans to spill from your lips, and your hands to run through his buzz cut for him to fill you to the brim with his seed, hot spurts of his cum filling your womb and the excess oozing out of your fluttering hole. Rafe must’ve had the thought of impregnating you before because before you could place yourself in the position to ensure his seed takes he’s doing it for you, placing his hands on the back of your thighs and pushing your body upwards towards the ceiling, wanting to keep you elevated so not even a drop is able to escape.

“It’s gonna take, alright? Gonna make you a mommy real soon just like you want.”

Fanbase — @ietss @shimmeringana @ims1 @anything4yooongi @oatmealisweird @ilovechickfilasauce @brooklynadoresdior @jordscosplay @taylormarieee @rivivie @shadyshadyy @m-mally

[miazetomer]

Heartless | Rafe Cameron x pogue(ish)!fem!reader (Part XI)

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, angst, fluff, smut, alcohol use, drug use, takes place during season four, the usual

Summary: You were back on Kildare after two years. You were able to finish your business degree at UNC Chapel Hill in just two years after earning enough college credits in high school. But, you came back as a force to be reckoned with. You had your own very successful development company which just so happened to be Cameron Development’s newest competition. Two years later and you’re still finding ways to get under Rafe’s skin.

a/n: y’all im so sad this is the second to last part of this series :( seriously i just want to say thank you to you all for enjoying this series, well i hope you enjoyed it. i honestly have never loved a series more in my LIFE and i can’t wait for you all to see what i have next in my rafe cameron collection AND I JUST WANT EVERYONE TO KNOW I LOVE SOFIA IN OBX AND I HOPE HER AND RAFE LIVE A PROSPEROUS LIFE

prev next

♡♡♡

You paced in front of Mark’s office, tapping your phone against your hand.

“You can come inside.” Mark called from his office.

You took a deep breath and opened the door to his office, walking inside.

“What’s up?” Mark asked, typing away on his computer.

“Um, there’s this gala coming up for business owners and entrepreneurs and investors and stuff like that.” You said, pacing around his office as you spoke with your hands. “And I was thinking it would look good if maybe we went together.”

You had no idea why you were so nervous, you were never nervous. You think it was because of the fight you two had. This was the first time in your life you were possibly facing rejection and that terrified you.

“I agree.” Mark nodded, making you stop in your tracks. You turned and faced him. “Oh, thank God you stopped I was worried you would burn a hole in the carpet. But, yes, I agree. I think it would look good for marketing. And for investors to see us together, to talk to us, together.”

“So, it’s decided then.” You said with a small smile before leaving his office.

♡♡♡

You walked off your family’s private jet in Charleston with Mark, Lily, and your glam team following close behind.

“Did you really need to pack so much for two days?” Mark asked, lugging your suitcase behind him.

“Would you stop complaining? It’s not that heavy.” You said, turning around to look at him.

“Would you like to carry it?”

“Isn’t it supposed to be your job as a man to carry my luggage?”

“Maybe if I was your boyfriend.” Mark mumbled, following behind you.

“Yeah, no way in hell is that happening again.” You scoffed.

♡♡♡

Your assistant quickly checked you into the hotel and you went up to your room.

“You can just leave my bag there.” You told Mark as you dropped your purse on the couch. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow.” Mark said before leaving.

Your suite was a good size. It had two bedrooms, one for you and one for Lily, a glam room, two bathrooms, and of course the living area complete with a mini bar.

“Lily, do you want to grab dinner?” You asked, turning on your heel to look at her.

“Y-you want to get dinner with me?”

“Of course, silly.” You said with a smile.

“Sure Ms. Thornton.”

“Lily, we aren’t at work you can drop the formalities.” You laughed.

♡♡♡

You sat in the glam room of your hotel room, surrounded by your glam team. Your hair was in rollers, you were getting your makeup done, and your dress hung on a hook behind you. You read emails on your phone as you sipped on your latte through a straw.

“Do you ever stop working?” Mark asked, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed.

“No.” You responded flatly, looking at him through the mirror.

“You need to get a life.” Mark chuckled.

“Me? You’re the one who needs to get a life. You know my assistant, Lily, she’s single, you should ask her out.”

“Why would I ask your assistant out?”

“She’s cute, your age, her dad is the CEO of a Fortune 500 company.”

“Which one?”

“McKesson.”

“Her dad is Brian Tyler?” Mark asked, his eyes going wide. “What is she doing working as your assistant?”

“She wanted to do something with her time other than spending her dad’s money.”

“I’ll be right back.”

“Where are you going?”

“To ask Lily out.” Mark said, before leaving.

♡♡♡

You sighed as you waited for Mark to finish getting ready, checking the time on your phone repeatedly.

“Mark, hurry up!” You shouted as you stood in the middle of his room.

“Sorry.” He said, walking out of the bathroom, adjusting his tie.

“God, took you long enough. We have to go, the driver’s downstairs.” You walked out of the room, Mark following closely behind, and made your way to the elevator.

As you rode the elevator, it stopped just one floor below you. You sighed and moved next to Mark to make room in the elevator. You didn’t do much to hide the disgust on your face when Rafe and Sofia entered.

“Y/n, how nice of you to bring a charity case.” Rafe smirked.

“Rafe, how thoughtful of you to bring an extra bartender so the bar staff doesn’t get overwhelmed. That’s what you did at the club, right Sofia? Before you started living off of Rafe’s inheritance.” You shot back, causing Mark to smirk.

“If I remember correctly, y/n, you worked there for a summer as a cart girl.” Sofia said, holding her head high.

“Oh, Sweetie, I worked there to flirt with the frat boys that came through, you worked there to pay your bills. We are not the same.” You watched as the smile dissipated from Sofia’s face. You leaned in to Sofia’s ear and whispered. “Speak to me like that again and I tell Rafe everything.”

You leaned back and smirked as Sofia’s face flushed red.

“Oh, Mark, I forgot to introduce you to Rafe. Mark this is Rafe Cameron, owner of Cameron Development. Rafe, this is Mark, my business partner.”

“I would say it’s nice to meet you, but you did just call me a charity case.” Mark said, shaking Rafe’s hand when he extended it.

“Nothing personal.” Rafe muttered, shoving his hand in his pocket.

“I don’t know, seemed kind of personal. You must be the ex-boyfriend.”

“Seems we have that in common.” Rafe chuckled.

♡♡♡

“I can’t believe you let her talk to me like that.” Sofia huffed on the car ride to the venue.

“You tried playing with the big dogs and you got bit, deal with it.” Rafe snapped back.

“I deserve to be respected, Rafe.” Sofia said, earning a chuckle from Rafe.

“You deserve to be respected? You’ve done nothing to earn her respect. Respect is earned, not given.”

“I don’t understand why you constantly stick up for her. I guarantee she doesn’t stick up for you like this.”

“I stick up for her because she’s been my friend my entire life. You’ve been in my life, what, five minutes and you think you trump her?”

“Who was here for you when your father died? Who made sure you became a better man?”

“She was there for me when my dad died. Those flowers that came from a fake address were from her. I just never reached out to her because I was giving her the distance she asked for. And I became a better man for her. God, Sofia, when are you gonna wake up and realize it’s always been her.”

“Then why are you here with me tonight instead of her?”

“Because, you were the second best choice.”

♡♡♡

You and Mark quickly found your table before you excused yourself to make your way to the bar.

“Rosé, please.” You sighed, leaning against the bar.

Rafe came and stood next to you at the bar, placing his order.

“You just had to say something in the elevator, didn’t you?” You asked, turning towards Rafe.

“You know I’ve always had a hard time keeping my mouth shut.” Rafe smirked, causing you to chuckle. “Besides, I know you would’ve said something if I didn’t.”

“Mmm, I don’t know how true that is.” You said, taking a sip of your Rosé.

“You and I both know you’ve been holding that bartender bullshit in your canister for a while now.”

“Oh, Rafe Cameron, you know me so well.” You mocked, pretending to swoon.

“I do, and that’s how I know you won’t have a good time tonight with Mark over there.” Rafe said, pointing over to where Mark was sitting.

“Why is Mark talking to Sofia at our table?” You asked, glaring in their direction.

“Oh, funny thing, they put us at the same table.” Rafe chuckled, taking a drink from his whiskey.

“Oh, fantastic.” You muttered, finishing your wine.

♡♡♡

“Not having a good time?” Rafe asked as you found yourself standing at the bar again.

“I’m just having the best night of my life talking to all these people who don’t take a woman owning a business seriously.” You said, sarcasm dripping off of every single word.

“Where’s Mark?”

“Talking to potential investors. I decided it would be best if I let him do the talking tonight. Where’s your girlfriend?”

“I sent her back to the hotel room.”

“What? Why?”

“Because, she’s not who I wanted to be here with tonight.”

♡♡♡

You had pulled Rafe into a dark hallway, away from everyone, away from the party. You paced in front of him as he leaned back against the wall, his hands in his pockets, watching you carefully.

You were thinking out everything you wanted to say. You knew this wasn’t the best place to do this, but you were a couple glasses of wine deep, and wine always got you in your feelings. You wanted to make a big speech, you wanted to tell Rafe everything you had been holding back, but all that came to your head was ‘I love you, Rafe Cameron. I love you, Rafe Cameron.’

You sighed and tossed your hair out of your face, turning towards Rafe. You decided you would just word vomit whatever you were thinking at Rafe.

“Okay, I know whatever I’m about to say is gonna be all over the place and some parts probably won’t make sense, but I need you to stick with me.” You started, as you fidgeted with your fingers. “Look, for the last two years I have tried suppressing every feeling I had for you; love, anger, happiness. And I mean really, really suppressing it, like shoving it so deep down and locking it away for what I hoped would be ever. But, the more I tried to suppress it, the more I thought about you and the more I realized you were, honestly, probably the love of my life. And that was half the reason why I broke up with Mark, because I knew he would never be you, I mean he could never be you. And I-I knew coming back would be so incredibly hard. That’s why I avoided you at the club and parties and anywhere else I saw you, because every time I saw you my stomach did this thing where it felt like I was going down on a roller coaster, you know what I mean?” Rafe nodded and you continued. “I tried telling myself there was no way I could be in love with a man who has hurt so many people I love, including himself. But, then I realized I was in love with him, with you. And I know you aren’t the same person anymore Rafe and I am so proud of you for that. Now, I want to say I’m sorry. I’m sorry for leaving you and disappearing when you probably needed me the most. I found out I tend to do this thing where I run away from problems instead of facing them head on, and I’m really trying to work on that. I mean I did it to Mark-”

Rafe stepped forward and grabbed your face gently. He leaned down and closed the space between the two of you, capturing your lips with his. At first you stood there, shocked, but then you closed your eyes and started kissing him back, wrapping your arms around his neck, essentially deepening the kiss.

“Sorry, baby, you started rambling.” Rafe said, pulling away from you. You took your hands off Rafe’s neck and put them on the collar of his jacket, pulling on him as you crashed your lips against his.

It felt like every bad feeling you bad about coming home was starting to melt away and all that was left was the one feeling you had been avoiding most, love.

Your lips worked in perfect tandem with Rafe’s, almost like you were made for each other.

“Hotel room?” Was all you said before Rafe took your hand and started pulling you outside the venue, as he texted his driver he was ready to be picked up.

As soon as you got outside, Rafe’s driver was pulling up. The two of you rushed to the car as soon as your eyes locked on it.

You couldn’t even keep your hands off him in the car as you straddled him and placed kisses along his neck, grinding your hips against his. Rafe tilted his head to the side to allow you more access to his neck as his hands quickly found residence on your ass, squeezing lightly.

When you reached the hotel, you quickly pulled a hundred dollar bill out of your clutch and gave it to the driver before climbing out of the car, and rushing inside the hotel, with Rafe following closely behind.

“You look really good tonight.” Rafe said as you waited for the elevator.

“Thanks, I got the dress at some boutique on Kildare.” You responded with a smile. Your dress really was gorgeous. It was a delicate, pretty, yellow, silk, strapless dress with an open back. The only portion of your back that was covered was your ass and your legs. Rafe was always a sucker for backless dresses and you knew it.

“Does nothing for your ass though.” Rafe joked, leaning back a little as he peered down at your ass. You gasped and slapped his arm with your clutch, trying to hide your smile.

As soon as you got in the elevator, Rafe had you pressed up against the wall, his hands gripping onto your hips as he placed delicate kisses along your neck, nipping at the one spot just below your ear, earning a quiet moan from you.

Once the elevator doors opened to your floor, you were practically running down the hallway with Rafe following, not having to do much to keep up with you. You fiddled through your clutch looking for the key to your suite as Rafe stood behind you, his hands on your hips, kissing your neck. Eventually, you found the key and opened the door, pulling Rafe inside quickly.

“We have to be quiet, Lily is sleeping.” You whispered as you walked to your room.

“Who the fuck’s Lily?” Rafe asked, whispering.

“Lily, my assistant.” You said, turning around to face Rafe. “You’ve met her multiple times.”

“Sorry, baby.” Rafe replied, shrugging as you scoffed, turning back around.

You opened the door to the room you were sleeping in, closing it once Rafe stepped through the threshold. He quickly threw his phone on the bed and you threw your clutch on the empty chair. Rafe’s hands were back on your hips the instant you turned around to face him, his lips crashing down onto yours. Rafe guided you towards the bed as you pulled his tie off and pushed his jacket to the floor. Once the back of your knees hit the bed, you laid down and grabbed the collar of Rafe’s shirt, pulling him down over you. He quickly found his place in between your legs, kissing you more hungrily now, as he pushed your dress up to your hips. You made quick work of his shirt, pushing it off his shoulders as Rafe removed one hand from your hip and brought it down to where the heat was pooling between your legs.

“You’re not wearing any underwear.” He groaned against your lips.

“I knew where I’d end up tonight.” You smirked, only for it to be replaced by a moan when Rafe slipped two fingers inside your dripping cunt.

“All this, just for me?” Rafe asked when he removed his fingers from you and inspected them closely.

“Don’t flatter yourself, some of it was for Mark.” You taunted. You were trying to piss Rafe off, he always was a better fuck when he was pissed off.

“Do you always have to be so fucking irritating?” Rafe muttered, standing up at the edge of the bed. You watched him carefully as he took off his belt, then his pants, then his boxers. You groaned at the sight of him, oh how you missed him.

“Only for you.” You said, gasping when Rafe slid himself into you. Your back arched off the bed as Rafe started slamming himself into you, his balls hitting your ass every time your hips connected. Your pussy clenched around Rafe, egging him on. You had forgotten just how big he was until you could feel him stretching you out. You wrapped your legs around Rafe’s waist, keeping him close to you. Pornographic moans were the only sound leaving your lips.

“Who else fucks you this good, hmm?” Rafe smirked down at the sight of you, practically falling apart for him.

“N-no one else baby, just you.” You managed to get out, as you screwed your eyes shut, arching your back off the bed. You were close, Rafe could tell. He moved one hand and started rubbing harsh circles on your clit. Even after all this time, Rafe knew your body like the back of his hand. It didn’t take much longer after that, you were cumming all over his cock, clenching around him so tightly, you worried you were going to break it. Rafe’s thrusts slowed, guiding you through your high.

“Think you got a couple more in you, baby?” Rafe asked, pulling out of you, and you just nodded. You slipped off your dress and Rafe groaned at the sight of you, everything he has ever wanted was right in front of him. You turned over and got on your forearms and knees, arching your back, you knew it was Rafe’s favorite position, it made him feel more in control.

Rafe’s hands made their way to your ass, squeezing softly, slowly spreading your ass cheeks apart and taking a mental picture of the moment. Rafe wasn’t sure when this would happen again, so he wanted to savor every second. He got down on his knees and placed a delicate kiss to your clit before he ran his tongue through your folds. You arched your back more, wanting more contact with Rafe’s tongue, but Rafe sat back and started running his finger through your folds, occasionally dipping one finger into your entrance, never leaving it in for long. You turned your head around to look at Rafe and you rolled your eyes at the sight.

“Are you gonna keep fucking around, Cameron, or am I gonna have to do this mys-” You started but was soon cut off by Rafe slipping two fingers inside of you and attaching his lips to your clit, your back arching in response. Rafe quickly picked up the pace on his fingers, curling them inside you to touch that one spot that only he has ever been able to reach. You moved your hips to meet Rafe’s fingers, pulling him deeper. You opened your eyes when you felt Rafe’s phone vibrate against the bed, you turned your head to look over your shoulder, just to make sure Rafe wasn’t looking and sure enough he was face deep in your pussy, blissfully unaware of the outside world. When you checked Rafe’s phone and saw he received a text from Sofia, you smirked to yourself. You clicked on the notification and unlocked his phone, reading the ‘where are you?’ text from Sofia. Quickly, you took a picture of Rafe and sent it to her along with a ‘sorry, he’s busy eating dinner,’ text. You turned off his phone and shoved it under a pillow.

You clenched around Rafe’s fingers, the stimulation quickly becoming too much. His name fell from your lips like prayer as you squirted all over his fingers.

You moved further up the bed and turned around to face Rafe. You grabbed his hand and pulled him down on the bed, moving quickly to straddle him before he could make his next move.

You took Rafe’s cock in your hand and positioned yourself over it. Slowly, you lowered yourself over it, earning a groan from Rafe as his hands shot to your hips, pulling you down the rest of the way. Your mouth gaped open at the feeling of Rafe’s cock stretching you out.

“So, fucking tight baby.” He groaned out, tilting his head back as the grip on your hips tightened. You slowly started moving your hips, allowing yourself to adjust to Rafe. But, once the pain subsided and the pleasure took over, you moved faster, your boobs bouncing against your chest. Rafe went to sit up but you pushed him back down, digging your nails into his chest as you rode him. Rafe’s hips met your own as your own movement started to become sloppier the closer you got your end. Your head tilted back as you let Rafe take over. It wasn’t long before you could feel Rafe’s cock twitching inside you, his thrusts becoming sloppier as he came deep inside you, you following closely behind. You collapsed against Rafe’s chest, feeling both of your liquids dripping down your thighs.

♡♡♡

Your eyes fluttered open in the morning at the sound of someone knocking on your door. You groaned and pulled your pillow over your head, not wanting to get up.

“Ms. Thornton.” You heard Lily call out from the other side. “You have to get up, it’s almost time to leave.”

You opened your eyes and checked the time on your phone, jumping out of bed once you realized the time.

“Sorry, sorry. I’m up.” You told Lily, before you walked over to Rafe, shaking him so he would wake up. “Rafe get the fuck up.”

“What time is it?” He groaned, running his hands over his face.

“It’s time to wake the fuck up.” You said, running around the room to collect your things as you threw them into your suitcase. Rafe slowly got out of the bed and started pulling his pants on.

“Well, good morning to you, too.” He muttered, buttoning his pants.

“Time to do the walk of shame, baby.” You patted his chest as you walked past him to pick your dress up off the floor.

“Where’s my phone?” He asked, pulling his suit jacket on over his unbuttoned shirt.

“Oh, here.” You said, grabbing his phone from under the pillow and handing it to him. You continued moving around the room, trying to grab all your things as he checked his phone.

“I have like a thousand texts from Sofia.” He muttered to himself. “Did you-Did you send her something?”

You stopped what you were doing and squeezed your eyes shut. You needed to come up with something and you needed to do it fast.

“I just…did the hard part for you.” You said with a small smile as you walked past him. Rafe grabbed your elbow and pulled you back towards him.

“You do realize I have to be in a confined space with her, thirty thousand feet in the air in like two hours right?” Rafe asked, pinching the bridge of his nose with his other hand.

“You do realize Sofia’s not completely incompetent right? She would’ve pieced two and two together when you never went back to your room. Maybe she even realized what was going to happen when you sent her back to your room last night.”

“I could’ve at least had a conversation with her.”

“Look, it could go two ways: she could give you the silent treatment, move out of Tannyhill, and never speak to you again or she could yell at you the whole way back to Kildare, move out of Tannyhill, and never speak to you again. I mean it’s not like you’re gonna be flying commercial where everyone can hear you. You’re gonna be on your own plane with just the two of you, a couple flight attendants, and the pilots. So, if she tries to kill you there will at least be witnesses.”

“This isn’t how I wanted to end things with her. I wanted to let her down easy.”

“I’m sorry, but I’m pretty sure I did make things easy for you.” You scoffed, pulling your arm away from Rafe so you could make your way to the bathroom. You took a second before you sighed and turned around. “I’m…sorry. You’re right. What I did was immature and wrong.”

Rafe raked his eyes over you, like he was sizing you up. “What game are you playing, y/n?”

“I’m not playing a game, Rafe.” You scoffed, turning back around to put all your skincare away.

“Bullshit, you’re always playing a game. You never apologize.”

“It’s called maturing, Rafe. I’m trying to take a step in the right direction. No more games, no more fighting, less parties, focusing more on OBX Development.” You sighed and zipped up your skincare bag. Your eyes met Rafe’s in the mirror as you attempted to hide the smirk forming on your face and you turned around to face him. “I’m being serious. Me sending Sofia that picture last night was just my last bit of fun before my frontal lobe develops.”

“Fine.” Rafe sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Did you really mean what you said about no fighting?”

“Ehh.” You said, rocking your head back and forth. You smiled over at Rafe and walked over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck before placing a small kiss on his lips. “I’ll see you back on Kildare, baby.”

♡♡♡

“How was your night?” Mark asked as the two of you sat on your plane. He was reading Business Insider and you were reading emails on your laptop.

“Everything went exactly to plan.” You muttered, smirking to yourself. “How was your night?

“Actually, it went really well. I think I even got us some new clients.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, they’re interested in building on Kildare, actually.”

“Oh, that’s perfect.”

♡♡♡

“So, are you and Rafe like getting back together?” Sarah asked after you told her and Kie all about your night with Rafe.

“I don’t know, maybe.” You smiled, wrapping your arms around your knees.

“Just be careful, y/n.” Kie sighed. “Rafe doesn’t exactly have the best track record.”

“I know, I just think he’s…different now.”

“Wasn’t it just a couple of days ago you were yelling at him for knocking JJ off his bike?” Kie pointed out.

“Okay, I know that it sounds bad, but seriously I think he’s different. Maybe he just needs to hangout with us for you guys to see he has changed.”

“You want Rafe to hangout with us?” Sarah asked, her eyebrows raising in surprise.

“Come on, I think it can be fun. We invite him to Poguelandia, we have a bonfire, a couple of drinks, a couple of joints. It’ll be a good time.”

“If you think so.” Sarah sighed.

♡♡♡

Rafe stood around with the boys as they tended the fire and you pulled Sarah aside.

“I have a surprise for you.” You smiled, hiding the surprise behind your back.

“Okay.” She said, hesitantly.

“I was talking to Rafe and I may have convinced him to finally give you your inheritance.” You pulled the paperwork out from behind your back and handed it to her.

“Are you serious?” Sarah asked with a big smile, looking down at the paperwork.

“I told Rafe he should be the one to give it to you, but he said he was too nervous. Don’t tell him I told you that, though.”

“Thank you y/n, seriously.” Sarah hugged you tightly.

“Are the guys getting along?” You asked Kie when she came over.

“Well, besides the fact that they’re fighting over how the fire should be handled, I’d say they’re getting along.” Kie nodded.

“Guys, I think we’re finally getting everything we wanted.” You smiled, looking towards the boys.

♡♡♡

taglist: @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account

[kairi101]

Very Few Friends

CEO!Rafe Cameron x fem!Reader

Warnings:Smut, 18+, fluff, soft!rafe, oral (f receiving), p in v, swearing, 1st person

Summary: Rafe returns early from a business trip, which leads to some changes in your relationship

A/n: probably doing a continuation of this bc i have writers block so it kinda ends abrupt (sorry abt that). Feedback/requests appreciated.

Also it's based on a song thats been in my liked music for like over a year and I recently rediscovered it

The afternoon sun appears through my curtains as I sit down on my bed, a cup of coffee in hand. I checked the messages on my phone to find 18 missed messages from Rafe Cameron. Jeez, I was only asleep for 45 minutes. What the hell could he possibly want? I think to myself. Before I could open any of his messages, I hear a knock on my front door. I go and answer the door despite already knowing who it is. "Rafe? I thought you weren't coming back for another 3-" He cuts me off by pressing his soft lips against mine. The kiss was gentle, unlike others we have shared.

"I fucking love you y/n" He pulling me in for a much deeper kiss. He lifts me up by my ass as we do our familiar waltz towards my bed. My heart flutters in anticipation as he lays me down on my unmade bed, stomach up. "So, so beautiful" He says as he kisses a trail down to my stomach, and slides the designer panties he got me off my leg, the cold air making me shiver. He places a kiss to my clit, earning a loud moan from me followed by several others as he teases my clit with his tongue. I grab the top of his head, buring it deeper into my core. He sticks one finger in me, and then another, thrusting in me at a relentless pace. "Fuck, Rafe" I moan. I feel a knot building in my stomach "rafe I'm gonna cum"

"Do it for me, baby" and I do. His face and fingers cover in my release. He licks his lips and sticks his fingers in his mouth, cleaning off my juices. He kisses me on the forehead and says "Don't move I'll be back in thirty." And I didn't move, aside from shifting into a more comfortable position. I sleepily gaze off staring into the depths of my wall, waiting for Rafe to return. After all, only I know what happens when I disobey Rafe.

He walks back into my room, exaxtly thirty minutes later, and throws his shirt off and lays next to me in bed. "I'm serious y/n, I love you." Tears begin to form in my eyes from his words, but Rafe kisses them away before they have the chance to fall. He brushes my hair back smiling at me while tears of happiness continue to fall from my eyes. I place my lips against his and whisper to him "I love you too, Rafey." He kisses the top of my head and pulls me into his bare chest, his arms wrapping around me. Never have I felt so small

"I'm never taking another work trip if I can't take you" He says , his chin resting on the top of my head.

"You only came back because of me?" I ask him. He hums in response, and my face flushes. "You didn't have to do that Rafe." I plainly state, half of me guilty I interfered with his business trip.

"I had to, baby" He responds "I was thinking about you the whole time and I didn't get shit done while I was there." I grin lustfully.

"Oh yeah? What kind of things?" I challenge, wanting to get whatever I can out of Rafe.

"Baby, I think you already know." I pretend to be clueless and shrug. He sighs before continuing "Just how kind you are and pretty" his voice deepens "and your body of a fucking goddess and how good it would feel around my cock."

"Show me, Rafe" I demand, and he doesn't hesitate. His lips collide with mine, forming electricity that only we can feel. He pulled my body in as close as possible on top of him and I grind my hips into the material of his shorts. I moan at the unfamiliar feeling of fabric hitting my clit. He throws my nightgown over my head, grabs me, and flips me over on my back, almost animalistic. I gasp as he undoes his belt and pants to reveal his cock, already leaking precum. I try to sit up, so I could put it in my mouth but he held me down to the bed, pinning me down with his arms and his lips. He forcefully shoves his cock into my already dripping pussy and I let out a painful cry. Rafe stops for a moment, letting me adjust to his well over average size. He slowly begins to move, bottoming out with every thrust, but I craved more. "Harder rafe" He speeds up his pace little by little until the headboard starts to hit the wall, but he doesn't stop there, my moans fueling his sexual desire. "Rafe" I moan "I'm gonna cum"

"I'm right with you, sweet girl, cum for me baby" I moan one last time as my cunt tightens spasticly around his dick, causing him to release as well. Warm ropes of his seed filled up my pussy and I just held on to Rafe, holding him close.

He pulls out, making me feel empty as his cum spilled out of me. He lay down next to me on my bed and pulled me close to him again. He smelled like a mixture of sweat and bourbon, but I loved it because it was Rafe. "I have a business trip to Paris next month" Rafe casually brings up. "You're coming with me."

"Rafe, I have a job, I can't just leave..." I say hesitantly.

"I'll provide for you from now until forever." He slips off his gold ring that he never takes off and places it on my ring finger though its way too big. "You're mine Y/n"

"Did you just force me to get engaged to you?" I tease him while giggling sleepily, moving. the ring to my thumb so it will somewhat stay on.

"No way is that an engagement ring y/n" He laughs with you "I'll get you the biggest, brightest diamond you've ever seen on that." He says touching the tip of my nose with his thumb. A moment passes between the two of you in complete silence

"Yes" I say.

"Yes what?"

"Yes, I'll go where you go." He grins "always and forever"

He places another kiss on my lips, but this time because he, for the first time in a long time, was happy. He quit the life he lived not so long ago and managed to bag the girl of his dreams. How could he deserve that?

"Just so you know, I'm taking you out tonight." He says.

"Rafe it's already four!" I exclaim. "We both need to take a shower and I gotta put makeup on," I complain, but Rafe is a step ahead of me as he lifts me over his shoulder into the shower and turns the water on. I squeal as the cold water hits my back, and he sets me down on the shower floor, holding me close to him. Both of our bodies are slick with water. My hair droops into my face and Rafe pulls it back, tilting my head up to look at him.

"So fucking perfect," he mumbles, looking down at me. He squeezes shampoo on his hand and massages it into my scalp with his fingertips, the same ones that were in me earlier.

I stand on my tippy toes and wrap my arms around Rafe's neck, planting a kiss on his soft lips. I then bury my head in his chest, nails scratching his back softly. "My Rafey" I mutter into his chest and his face reddens.

Eventually, we get out of the shower and go out sometime around seven. He took me to the most expensive Italian restaurant in the area. I begged him to go get ice cream afterward, and we go into a small ice cream shop in our fancy dinner clothes.

"I'll share whatever you want" I tell Rafe

"Dang it, I was going to say that to you." He browses the assortment of flavors for a few minutes and finally picks out a flavor. "Carmel Iced Coffee" He picks. I squeezed his arm because that was the one I would pick. He runs one of his hands through my hair and kisses the top of my head as the clerk scoops up the ice cream. Rafe pays with his American Express gold card, and we head outside, a chilly breeze kissing my exposed shoulders. Rafe takes off his sport jacket and places it over the top of my shoulders, and I smile and look up at him.

"You're so good to me Rafey" I praise him and reach my hand up to touch his jaw as he grinned down at me. We walk towards his truck and he opens the passenger door for me.

On the way home he let me blast Speak Now (Taylor's Version) the entire way. He places his hand on my thigh and hikes his hand up my satin dress until he loops his index finger around the elastic of my lace thong. I grab his hand away from my panties and lace my fingers with his with my hand his ring is on.

I lean into his shoulder and drift asleep.

I wake up in my bed the next morning, Rafe laying shirtless next to me sound asleep. I decided to let him sleep and curled up as close as possible to him. Ten or so minutes later, he woke up, and I place a soft kiss on his lips.

"G'morning sunshine," he grumbles out of tiredness. "I gotta go into the office today. You're coming with me though."

"Rafe I don't to sit and do nothing all day" I whine to him.

"You won't" He replies. "You're my new secretary."

I groan but eventually get out of bed to get dressed.

"Rafey, I don't know what to wear" He sighs and gets up reaching into my closet to pick out an outfit way too revealing to wear in an office setting. "Rafe!" I exclaim. "I can't wear that!"

"I'm just kidding!" He picks out a blouse and a skirt. "Here" He says throwing the outfit at me.

I get dressed and come down for breakfast, preparing both of us for our day of "hard work." Rafe had me in his lap the entire day in his office, so neither one of us got anything done.

This continued for a month and then Rafe's business trip came up and I found myself in his lap again, but on his private jet.

"You excited baby?" He asks into my ear, playing with a few strands of my hair.

"Why wouldn't I be?" I reply.

[ontheshroom]

Ceo jack, Sucking off jack under the table when he’s in a virtual meeting

Smutmas day 1: On Mute

Jack Harlow x fem!reader

Smut

A/n: for the next 25 days I’m doing smut requests for Jack Harlow, Urban wyatt, and Rafe Cameron!🤍

******************************

Working from home wasn’t enjoyable for Jack until he began seeing you. Although his time off was meant to be just that, he could handle the one meeting out of the day if it meant he could peer from the top of the laptop screen and see you moving around his home.

He watches as you grab a cup from the kitchen cabinet, his shirt just barely exposing the crease of your ass as you reach for it. He could already feel his dick threatening to push against the fabric of his sweatpants.

“Right, Jim. But as I said, I’m not interested in that offer.” He tells one of his partners.

“Jack, it couldn’t do anything besides benefiting us.” Jim sighs.

“It’ll benefit us for the next three years and then drag us into a shit hole once we realize that the business we’re trying to buy is failing,” Jack explains.

You quietly fill your cup with water before sitting in front of Jack. The makeup you’d been wearing the previous night is smudged under your eyes. If you’d look in the mirror you might describe yourself as a mess, but to Jack, you looked even more irresistible. Maybe it was the fact that he knew the story behind how your makeup changed.

Your nipples create little tents in his shirt, driving him to want to touch them and admire them as your face softens in pleasure.

At this point Jack is sure all the blood in his body has rushed to his dick.

The things Jim is explaining are blurred and incoherent, he’s only thinking of more ways to ruin you.

Jack never thought that when the awkward nervous girl walked into his office a few months ago he’d end up being so spent over her, but now he’s wishing he was the cup you keep wrapping your lips around, even more, he wishes he was the water you were swallowing.

In a swift movement, Jack is muting his computer.

“Y/n.” He says, his voice dripping in arousal.

“Yes?” You hum, the teasing tone of your voice not going unnoticed by him.

“I want you under this table, sucking my dick until tears fall from your eyes,” Jack says, a smirk forming on his lips as your digest his words.

He expects you to argue, maybe to even deny the thought altogether, but instead, you nod and fall beneath the table.

The next thing he knows he feels you pulling down his sweatpants, your fingers dancing around his thighs.

“Your mouth, y/n.” He sighs.

“And be quiet, I’m taking myself off mute.” He smiles, knowing the thought of being caught now have you clenching your thighs together.

Jack takes himself off mute but is barely able to keep his eyes from shutting as you lightly suck on his tip. The swirls of your tongue threaten a breathy moan to fall from his lips. You gather up enough spit to lube him up enough to stroke whatever can’t fit in your mouth with your hand.

“Jack? What are your thoughts?” Mike, a coworker of Jack, inquires.

“I’m sorry, the connection must’ve been out. What do you need my thoughts on?” Jack asks, nearly breaking his speaking stride as you swallow more of him.

“What if we buy and flip the company?” Mike asks.

“Why would we buy a million-dollar company and sell it for a million dollars after we put more money into it? We’d gather no profit. This whole idea is bad and we need to trash it. Ask the Vergas family if they’d like to merge for 50% instead.” Jack shrugs.

You hum ever so lightly, not enough for it to be picked up by the mic but just enough that it sends goosebumps throughout Jack’s body.

“Call me tomorrow and let me know,” Jack says, leaving the call.

“Fuck you’re doing so good.” Jack groans, gathering as much of your hair as he could.

He just barely guides you, mostly holding your hair in dominance.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” He announces.

You hum again before feeling him grow in your mouth. With only a couple more thrusts you feel his warm cum fill your mouth.

You look up at him as you swallow, even using your finger to gather what was missed and guide it back into your mouth.

“What a breakfast.” You smile.

“Now that you mention it, I think I’m hungry too.” Jack laughs, moving the table back so you could crawl from under it.

You don’t get too far from it before he has you sprawled on top of it though.

[rafecameronssl4t]

thinking about actress!reader who’s very much giving loewe it girl and her mysterious bf from her hometown obx until they hard launch during awards season when she walks in with a massive rock on her finger….(giving zendaya walking in the globes left hand first lmao)

just loveeee the idea of ceo!rafe & actress!reader being this hot power couple & everyone trying to figure out how long they’ve been together

Hard launch || CEO!Rafe Cameron x actress!reader

A/n: wait I acc love the concept of ceo!rafe x actress!reader 😃😃😃

Warnings: none!

Word count: 1,382

MASTERLIST (CEO!Rafe au masterlist)

The whispers had always been there. Fans speculated endlessly, dissecting blurry photos and random sightings. But no one could confirm anything—until now. The Golden Globes red carpet was abuzz with excitement, cameras flashing furiously as the biggest stars in Hollywood arrived in their finest attire.

Stepping out of the sleek, black Rolls-Royce, you radiated elegance in a custom Valentino gown, the fabric catching the light with every step. The crowd gasped as cameras flashed incessantly, capturing every detail. You offered your signature soft smile and a delicate wave, but it wasn’t just the gown or your effortlessly chic updo that set the internet ablaze.

It was the massive, glittering diamond perched on your left ring finger—a ring so large it seemed to have its own gravitational pull. The internet exploded. Social media was flooded with posts: "Is that an engagement ring on Y/N’s finger?!" "Who is the lucky guy?!" And most importantly, "How did she keep this a secret?!"

You walked the carpet with an effortless air, offering soft smiles and waves to the fans—the diamond unapologetically on display—sopping for a few brief interviews, but sidestepping every question about the ring with a cryptic smile. The mystery lingered, though, as you didn’t arrive with a date—or so they thought.

~

Inside the venue, the buzz only grew. You were seated near the front, your polished demeanour giving no indication of the chaos unfolding online. When your name was called for Best Actress in a Leading Role, the applause was thunderous. Rising gracefully, you glided toward the stage, your diamond catching the light with every step. As you accepted the golden statue, your voice was steady, heartfelt.

You thanked your director, your co-stars, and your team. But then your tone shifted, becoming softer, almost intimate. “And lastly,” you said, your eyes scanning the crowd before landing on someone just out of the camera’s reach, “to my fiancé, Rafe, for being my greatest support and my home. I love you.” The reaction was immediate. Gasps rippled through the audience, and the cameras frantically searched for this mysterious “Rafe.”

When they finally found him, the room fell silent in disbelief. Rafe Cameron, CEO of Cameron Development and a notoriously private multi-millionaire, sat composed in the front row, his tailored tuxedo impeccable and his expression calm. His sharp features softened as he looked at you, his piercing blue eyes radiating pride. The faintest hint of a smile tugged at his lips as he offered you a subtle nod of approval.

The crowd’s shock only deepened when he lifted his hand, casually blowing you a kiss. The gesture, so unexpected and tender, made you laugh softly, a sound that carried through the microphone and caused the room to erupt in soft, charmed laughter. Even the most stoic faces couldn’t help but smile at the moment, the chemistry between you and Rafe palpable even from afar.

~

A week later, seated on a sleek morning show set, you addressed the world’s curiosity with grace. “First of all, congratulations on your Golden Globes win—and, of course, on your engagement!” the interviewer gushed, leaning forward with obvious excitement. “The internet is absolutely losing it over this. No one even knew you were dating someone, let alone Rafe Cameron. How did you pull this off?”

You laughed, a soft, genuine sound. “I’ve always been a very private person when it comes to my personal life. Rafe is the same way, which made it easier to keep things low-key. We weren’t hiding—we just chose to keep it to ourselves.” “Understandable, but we need to talk about this ring,” the interviewer said, motioning dramatically toward your hand. “It’s stunning. Did Rafe pick it out himself?”

Your smile turned fond as you glanced down at the enormous diamond. “He did,” you said, your voice softening. “He worked with a designer for months to make sure it was exactly what I’d love. He knows I’m not into anything too flashy, but he told me this one had to be special—and it is. It’s perfect.”

The interviewer tilted their head, their curiosity palpable. “So, how long have you two been together?” “A little over two years,” you revealed, your tone steady but warm. “We met at a charity gala. He was there on behalf of his company, and I was presenting. We started talking, and it just… clicked. We became friends first, and over time, it grew into something more.”

“Rafe Cameron is one of the most private figures in the business world. What’s it like dating someone outside of Hollywood?” You smiled, pausing thoughtfully before answering. “It’s refreshing, honestly. His world is so different from mine, and it helps keep me grounded. He’s incredibly driven but also the most supportive person I’ve ever known. He’s my biggest cheerleader, but he also keeps me humble.”

“And what do you think about all this attention now? Everyone’s calling you two the ultimate power couple.” You laughed softly, shaking your head. “It’s flattering, but at the end of the day, we’re just two people who love each other. That’s what matters most to us.” The interviewer leaned in, clearly intrigued. “And where is Rafe right now? Surely he’s tuned in to watch this interview?” You laughed softly, a warm glint in your eyes.

“He’s probably watching this on his way to the airport for a business trip,” you revealed, a hint of amusement in your tone. “He’s always on the move, but he’s still incredibly present in our relationship. Whether it’s a quick FaceTime call before a meeting or sending me random pictures of his coffee because he knows I’d critique it, he’s always finding little ways to stay connected.” The interviewer raised an eyebrow, leaning back slightly.

“So, this private romance you’ve shared—do you feel it’s been easier to navigate without the world watching?” “Absolutely,” you said, your voice steady but reflective. “Being private gave us the space to focus on each other without any outside pressure or distractions. In our world, it’s easy for relationships to become more about public perception than the people involved. We wanted to make sure we were solid before sharing it with everyone else.”

“And now that the everyone knows?” the interviewer pressed, their tone light but curious. You shrugged with a graceful smile. “We’re ready. The Golden Globes felt like the right moment—it wasn’t planned or calculated. I wanted to celebrate him as much as he celebrates me, and that felt like the perfect way to do it.” The interviewer smiled, nodding.

“It was such a genuine, beautiful moment. The internet is still recovering from the shock, though. People are obsessed with this pairing—Hollywood starlet and business mogul. What’s it like being in the spotlight together?” “It’s definitely new,” you admitted, your fingers instinctively grazing the diamond ring. “Rafe is used to being behind the scenes, so all this attention is a bit of an adjustment for him. But he’s handling it well—he’s pragmatic about most things. And we’ve always been a team, so we’re taking it one step at a time.”

“Well, you two seem to have a rock-solid foundation,” the interviewer said with a smile. “And judging by the fan reactions, I think people are already rooting for you as much as they root for your movies.” You chuckled, a hint of blush rising to your cheeks. “That’s sweet to hear. Honestly, we’re just two people trying to figure it all out like anyone else. But I’m grateful for all the love and support—it means a lot to both of us.”

As the segment wrapped up, the interviewer smiled warmly. “Thank you for sharing this part of your life with us. Congratulations again on your engagement and your win. We can’t wait to see what’s next for you—and for you and Rafe!” You nodded, your eyes glowing. “Thank you. It means so much to be able to share this moment. And I have a feeling there’s a lot more to come.”

The camera panned out as the show transitioned to commercial, leaving the audience captivated by your elegance and the sheer mystique of your love story. Online, the clip was already going viral, with fans dissecting every detail of your relationship and praising the unexpected yet perfect union of Hollywood’s understated it girl and the world’s most enigmatic bachelor.

[rafecameronssl4t]

CEO!Rafe Cameron x fem!reader au masterlist

MAIN MASTERLIST

Saving grace

Office visit

Hard launch (actress!reader)

Business meeting

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

[rafecameronssl4t]

Anyone have any ceo!Rafe requests???

[rafecameronssl4t]

i’m actually obsessed with all your works pls i need more ceo!rafe and sweetheart!reader, maybe something with their kids??? you’re actually amazing 🙇‍♀️

Office visit || CEO!Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

A/n: thank u for the request xx

Warnings: use of daddy and mommy but not in a sexual way 😭

Word count: 2,002

MASTERLIST (CEO!Rafe au masterlist)

“What do you boys want to do after this?” you ask, glancing back at Luca and Kai as they focus on their ice creams. The two of them sit on the edge of the bench outside the tennis club, still buzzing with energy after their lesson. The faint scent of sunscreen lingers, and their flushed cheeks tell the story of a morning well spent.

Kai pauses mid-bite, his little tongue darting out to catch a melting drip before it slides down his cone. His brows knit in concentration as he thinks, his chocolate-streaked fingers almost comically poised. Luca, always the quieter of the two, finishes his bite and watches his brother, waiting to see what he’ll suggest.

You reach over and smooth Kai’s tousled hair, the strands damp from sweat and the summer heat. “What about…” you trail off, pulling your phone from your bag to check the time. It’s just past noon, and an idea sparks. “How about we go and see Daddy at his office for lunch?”

Both boys instantly straighten, their eyes lighting up with excitement. “Yes! Yes!” they exclaim in perfect unison, their voices loud enough to draw amused glances from a passing couple. Kai bounces slightly in his seat, and Luca’s smile stretches wide, making your heart melt.

“Alright, finish up your ice creams first, and then I’ll make a quick call to see if he’s free,” you say, chuckling at their eagerness. You bend down to zip up their small tennis bags, tucking away their water bottles and rackets. Their names are embroidered neatly on the sides of their bags, a gift from Rafe when they started lessons last year.

Sliding your phone out again, you scroll to Rafe’s assistant, Rachael, and hit call. It barely rings once before her bright, professional voice answers. “Hi, Mrs. Cameron! How are you?” “Hi, Rachael,” you greet warmly, stepping a little away from the boys, who are now energetically debating whether they should bring Daddy a surprise snack. “Does Rafe have any meetings or calls in the next hour or so? The boys want to see him, and I thought we could bring lunch.”

“Let me check for you,” Rachael replies. You can hear the soft tapping of keys as she looks at his schedule. “You’re in luck—he’s free until 2 p.m. today!” “Perfect,” you reply with a relieved smile, already picturing Rafe’s reaction. “We’ll be there soon. Thanks, Rachael.” “Of course! See you soon,” she says, and you hang up, sliding the phone back into your bag.

Turning back to Luca and Kai, you find them eagerly finishing their ice creams, their little legs swinging excitedly beneath the bench. “Okay, it’s all set. Daddy’s free, so we’re heading to his office. But first, wipe those sticky hands!” you tease, handing them some napkins. They giggle as they clean up, practically bouncing with excitement as they climb into the backseat of the car.

You secure their tennis bags in the boot and slide into the driver’s seat, glancing in the rearview mirror to see their gleaming faces. As you pull out of the car park, their excited chatter fills the car. “Do you think Daddy will let us sit at his desk like last time?” Kai asks. “Maybe we can help him work!” Luca chimes in, his voice hopeful.

You laugh, your heart full as you drive toward Rafe’s office. “Let’s see how much work Daddy gets done with you two around,” you joke, feeling a surge of warmth at the thought of surprising him with his two biggest fans.

~

The second you parked your car in the reserved spot beside Rafe’s sleek black car, Luca and Kai were out of their seats in a flash. “Wait for me!” you called, though you already knew your words would be ignored. You watched with a mix of amusement and exasperation as the two bolted toward the glass sliding doors, their laughter echoing through the underground parking lot.

“No running inside, please!” you called after them, quickly grabbing your bag and locking the car. Your heels clicked rhythmically against the pavement as you hurried to catch up. By the time you reached the doors, Steve, the ever-friendly security guard stationed by the front entrance, was already greeting them. “Well, hello, Luca and Kai!” he said with a broad smile, his weathered face lighting up at the sight of the energetic boys.

“Hi, Steve!” they chorused, their voices loud and cheerful before they darted further into the building. You reached Steve just in time to catch his amused chuckle. “And hello to you, Mrs. Cameron,” he greeted warmly, his tone respectful yet familiar. “Hi, Steve,” you replied with a smile, placing a light hand on his arm. “How’s Margaret doing?” you asked, genuinely curious about his wife.

“She’s doing well, thank you,” Steve replied with a proud nod, the lines around his eyes crinkling with warmth. “That’s wonderful to hear,” you said softly, offering a kind smile before glancing ahead to see Luca and Kai at the front desk, already reaching for the small bowl of lollies. “I’d better catch up with them before they cause too much trouble. See you later, Steve!”

“Have a good visit, Mrs. Cameron,” he called after you with a wave as you made your way inside. The front desk staff greeted you with bright smiles as you approached. “Hello, Mrs. Cameron!” Jake, one of the receptionists, said cheerfully. You chuckled softly, smoothing Luca’s hair as he eagerly unwrapped a lollipop. “I hope these two aren’t bothering you too much,” you joked.

“Not at all,” Jake replied with a grin, glancing down at the boys. “They always bring a little extra energy to the office.”“Well, that they do,” you said, shaking your head fondly as Kai offered Jake a gummy bear from his stash. “Alright, boys, let’s not take all the lollies.” Luca and Kai quickly popped the last of their treats into their mouths and followed you toward the elevator, their small feet pattering against the polished floors.

As the elevator arrived, a group of Rafe’s staff stepped out, their chatter pausing as they noticed you and the boys. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Cameron,” one of them greeted, while another bent down to fist bump Luca and Kai. “Good afternoon,” you replied, nodding politely as the boys giggled, clearly thrilled by the attention.

You guided them into the elevator and pressed the button for the top floor, where Rafe’s office was located. The doors closed, and the boys glanced up at you, their excitement bubbling over. “Do you think Daddy will be surprised?” Luca asked, his voice full of anticipation.

“I think he’ll be very happy to see you,” you assured them, adjusting the strap of your bag as the elevator hummed softly. As the elevator ascended, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself, already picturing the look on Rafe’s face when he saw his two little boys storming into his office like it was theirs.

~

The elevator doors opened with a soft chime, revealing the sleek, modern design of Rafe’s executive floor. The expansive space was quiet, save for the faint hum of activity from his staff in the open office areas. Luca and Kai immediately bolted out of the elevator, their small sneakers squeaking against the polished marble floors as they made a beeline for Rafe’s corner office.

“Boys, wait!” you called, your voice firm but amused as you followed them at a brisk pace, your heels clicking against the floor. You exchanged polite smiles and greetings with passing employees, most of whom glanced at the boys with fond amusement. It wasn’t the first time Luca and Kai had stormed through these halls like a whirlwind.

By the time you reached Rafe’s office, the boys had already pushed the heavy door open just enough to slip inside. You caught up just in time to see them racing toward Rafe’s large mahogany desk. Rafe was seated behind it, his brow furrowed as he reviewed a stack of papers. The sunlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows highlighted the sharp lines of his face, but the moment he heard the familiar sound of his sons’ excited giggles, his head snapped up.

“Daddy!” Luca and Kai shouted in unison, running around the desk to get to him. Rafe’s expression softened instantly, his serious demeanour melting away as he leaned back in his chair. “Well, what’s this?” he asked, his lips curving into a smile. He opened his arms just in time for the boys to climb onto his lap, their chatter filling the room.

“We came to surprise you!” Kai exclaimed, wrapping his small arms around Rafe’s neck. “Did you now?” Rafe replied, his tone warm as he ruffled Kai’s hair. He glanced over the boys’ heads to see you standing in the doorway, a knowing smile on your face as you watched the scene unfold. “And you brought reinforcements, I see.”

You chuckled, stepping further into the room. “They insisted. It was either this or trying to sneak into your meetings.” “Good call,” Rafe said with a smirk, shifting Luca onto his other knee. “You two behaving for Mommy?” Luca nodded earnestly, though the mischievous glint in his eyes made Rafe arch a brow. “Mostly,” you teased, leaning against the edge of his desk.

“Mostly?” Rafe echoed, giving them both a mock stern look that made Kai giggle. “We were good, Daddy!” Kai insisted, throwing his arms out dramatically. “I’ll take your word for it,” Rafe replied, pressing a kiss to the top of Kai’s head before glancing at you. “Thank you for bringing them. This is the best kind of interruption.”

“They wanted to see you,” you said softly, your heart warming at the sight of Rafe with the boys. “And they may have bribed the front desk staff with gummy bears on the way up.” Rafe laughed, his deep, rich tone filling the office. “Sounds about right. So, what’s the plan now, little troublemakers?” “Lunch with you!” Luca declared, leaning against his father’s chest.

“Lunch, huh?” Rafe looked between them, feigning thought. “Well, I think I can make that happen. What do you guys feel like eating?” “Pizza!” Kai shouted, while Luca chimed in with, “Burgers!” Rafe glanced at you, his grin widening. “Guess we’re having both.” You laughed, shaking your head. “Sounds like a plan. I’ll call get Rachael to call the kitchen while you catch up with your boys.”

As you stepped aside to make the call, you couldn’t help but glance back at them—Rafe, with his arms full of Luca and Kai, looking more at ease than you’d seen him in weeks. Moments like these made all the chaos worthwhile.

[crookedteethed]

ᡣ𐭩 the good girl . • ° 　 .　 *　:.　coming soon

Rafe Cameron's eyes hungrily trailed along your figure as you stood in front of his desk. Your short, black mini skirt accentuated the curve of your ass, while the tight Ash blue Coco Channel pinstripe button-up top left little to the imagination. Rafe couldn't resist leaning in closer to his desk, pretending to work while secretly reveling in the sight of your cleavage spilling out from the open buttons. He couldn't stop thinking about how good it would feel to tit fuck you, and he only snapped back to reality when he noticed you holding a clipboard and some folders in front of him, completely unaware of the effect you were having on him.

Your flirtatious little smile falls flat as Rafe's bloodshot eyes bore into you with a mix of anger and desperation. "Did you have your coffee today, sir?" you ask innocently, trying to diffuse the tension. But Rafe is in no mood for games, still reeling from a cocaine binge and now tormented by a crippling hangover.

With gritted teeth, he demands his papers, mentally envisioning thrusting your head down onto his throbbing cock and fucking your mouth. 

You slowly hand over the papers, your fingers brushing against his as he snatches them away.

A shiver runs through you at the contact. Rafe's eyes flick down to your chest again, lingering hungrily. You shift uncomfortably under his intense gaze.

"Is there anything else I can help you with, Ms. y/l/n ?" Rafe asks, his eyes fixated on your parted, dark red lips, imagining the sounds they'll make when wrapped around his thick cock.

Rafe studies you intensely, now watching as you smooth down your mini skirt that seemed to ride up your thighs. "Um." you murmur coyly--a sound that sounded to close to a moan and got Rafe wondering how your lips would feel wrapped around his throbbing cock, again. "Remember Rupert Hemmings?" you cooed, recalling your boss's persistent advances. "He's asked for another lunch meeting today to discuss the property in Morocco." You recall. Will you whimper for him? or will you cry and gag, begging him to stop?

"And what exactly did you say?"Rafe's piercing stare never left you, his handsome features twisted into a smirk -- as always.

"Just do what you always tell me," you replied coyly. "Just say no."

Rafe's lips curled into a smile—a really boyish one. "Good Girl." He praised you, repeating "Just say no" himself, but with great instinct. 

You smiled shyly at him, grateful for his praise for your work.

Rafe's grin widened at your obedience, praising you as a "good girl" for following his orders.

Maybe you would do neither while you were taking Rafe's cock-- Rafe thought-- perhaps you would just sit there like the good girl you are for him and swallow him whole.

series masterlist

a/n-- im so excited to work on this series, currently foaming at the mouth about it.

[crookedteethed]

ᡣ𐭩 the good girl . • ° 　 .　 *　:.　the proposition and the firecracker (3)

synopsis -- Rafe Cameron manipulates both his secretary and her fiancé Pope with a tempting business offer: a month in Morocco and a six-figure bonus that could change their lives—or destroy them.

warnings -- 18+- mdni, cursing, angst, rafe being rafe *sigh*, sexual advances, manipulation

Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | word count: 4k

The following morning arrived with a weight of dread you couldn't shake. Your hands trembled slightly as you arranged your desk supplies, trying to ignore the ghost of Rafe's kiss that still burned on your lips. The office felt different now – every shadow held a memory of Rafe's darkness, every corner echoed with unspoken threats.

Then his shadow fell across your desk, and your heart stopped. Rafe loomed over you, his cerulean eyes gleaming with something that looked too much like triumph.

He'd dressed carefully today – crisp navy suit that matched his office walls, the ones he'd chosen because you'd once mentioned liking the color on him. Every detail calculated, every move choreographed.

"You're coming with me to fix the properties in Morocco," he announced, his voice soft but leaving no room for discussion. "I don't want to hear a no."

Before you could process the implications – before you could think about Pope, about the words Rafe had whispered to you at Roots, about that forbidden kiss that still burned on your lips, about all the professional lines you'd already crossed – Rafe turned on his heel and strode into his office.

The command in his posture was clear: follow.

And like a moth drawn to deadly flame, you did.

Your heels clicked against the floor as you trailed behind him, each step feeling like another thread in his web. He settled into his desk chair with the satisfaction of a predator who knew its prey would come when called.

The door clicked shut behind you with a finality that felt like fate.

"But Sir--"

"I thought I told you to call me Rafe?" His voice cut through the air, sharp as a blade.

"But Rafe--"

"Good girl." The praise rolled off his tongue like honey laced with poison, sending forbidden butterflies dancing through your stomach.

You watch as Rafe rises from his desk, coming straight towards you with that condescending stare that makes your stomach flip. Each deliberate step closes the distance between you, until there's nowhere left to retreat.

"Rafe, I--you're going to be in Morocco for the entire month of July." Your voice sounds small even to your own ears.

"Yes?" His cerulean eyes track your every movement, predatory and patient, as he effectively traps you between his imposing frame and the solid wood of his desk. The single word carries the weight of both question and threat.

"I can't do that, sir--Rafe," you stumbled over the name, watching his jaw clench at your slip.

"Well, why not?" The question dripped with dangerous calm.

"It's my engagement," you burst out, words tumbling faster as his expression darkened. "The $2,000 bonus I was given was just enough to afford rings--we're eloping in July!" The happiness in your voice felt suddenly wrong, like bringing a match to gasoline.

Rafe's face transformed as your words sank in. The bonus he'd authorized – his attempt at marking you with money – had instead funded Pope Hayward's claim on you. The irony of it twisted his features into something terrible.

His fist clenched at his side, knuckles bleaching white with barely contained rage.

The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees. You watched as Rafe's knuckles whitened, as that muscle in his jaw worked overtime.

This wasn't just anger – this was something far more dangerous.

"We plan on just going down to the courthouse," you whisper, each word making Rafe's expression darken further. "The date's already set, and everyone's already RSVP'd--" Your voice trails off as Rafe's expression suddenly transforms into something that makes your blood run cold – a smile that's all teeth and no warmth, sharp and cruel and mocking.

In a moment of misguided politeness that you regret instantly, you stammer: "Of course, you're invited, sir--Rafe." The correction of his title feels like another mistake, another piece of ammunition you've just handed him.

The invitation itself hits Rafe like a physical blow.

His cerulean eyes flash with something dangerous as his mind processes the image: sitting in that courthouse, watching as some judge hands his girl over to Pope fucking Hayward.

The thought alone makes his vision blur red at the edges. A Cameron doesn't sit quietly and watch what belongs to them be claimed by someone else – especially not by a Pogue playing at success.

The way he's looking at you now makes your blood run cold.

But, a courthouse wedding...

How perfectly Pogue of Pope Hayward, Rafe thinks.

His cerulean eyes glitter with something dangerous as he processes this new information. No church, no reception, no grand celebration – just a simple ceremony for what belongs to him. The thought seems to offend him on a molecular level.

"But what about your job?" Rafe's voice softened to that dangerous velvet tone he used when he wanted something. "What about me?" he whispered, the words slipping out before he could catch them, betraying more vulnerability than he'd intended.

His smile flickered, a perfect performance of hurt that made your heart ache despite your better judgment.

"Do you realize how much of a bonus we can get from doing this deal in Morocco?" The question hung in the air between you, equal parts promise and threat, as his cerulean eyes searched your face for any sign of wavering.

He stepped closer, close enough that you could smell his expensive cologne mixing with Rafe's last night's lingering sins.

His cerulean eyes held yours, swimming with what looked like genuine pain – but with Rafe Cameron, what was genuine and what was tactical often blurred into the same dangerous thing.

"All that stuff I said in the bathroom at Roots?" His voice dropped to barely above a whisper, raw with something that sounded like truth. "About you being the only one who sees me? That wasn't the vodka talking." His fingers found your wrist, not gripping, just resting there like a promise – or a threat. "You're the only person who's ever looked at me and seen past the Cameron name, past all the money and the mess, and seen me. You're my best secretary yet."

The words hang between you, heavy with implication. His touch burns against your skin, and you can't tell if this is masterful performance or if you're witnessing one of those rare, unguarded moments when Rafe Cameron lets his masks slip.

The most dangerous part isn't the uncertainty – it's how easily you find yourself being drawn back into his gravity, like a planet that knows its sun might burn it to ash but can't help orbiting anyway.

A heavy silence fills the space between you, stretching like taffy as you stare down at his hands now gripping your waist. Rafe's cerulean eyes never leave your face, drinking in every micro-expression, every subtle reaction.

His fingers flex slightly against the fabric of your blouse, memorizing the feeling of having you this close, of finally holding what he considers his.

The possessive triumph in his eyes makes your breath catch – this isn't just about Morocco anymore. This is about ownership.

"But Mr. Cameron, Sir, this is my Wedding," your voice cracked on the word, desperation seeping through as you pull away from his inappropriate grip on your waist, trying to create distance between your bodies. The movement feels like trying to escape quicksand – the more you struggle, the deeper you sink.

"My fiancé and I have been waiting long enough as it is to get married--" You start, and Rafe's cerulean eyes darken at your careful avoidance of Pope's name. He notices it, savors it – how you can't bring yourself to say "Pope" in his presence, as if speaking his rival's name might shatter whatever dangerous thing hangs between you.

As if some part of you knows exactly what saying that name would do to Rafe's carefully maintained control.

"And what's wrong with waiting another month?" Rafe's voice drops to that same dangerous velvet tone, the one that makes promises and threats in equal measure. He moves closer, again, until you're trapped between his desk and his body, the heat of him making it hard to think straight.

His presence surrounds you like a cage made of expensive cologne and dark intentions, and somewhere in the back of your mind, you realize he's positioned himself deliberately – ensuring you have nowhere to run.

"One month with me in Morocco," he continues, each word carefully chosen like a weapon. "The bonus alone could buy you a real wedding, the kind of wedding a girl like you deserves not some courthouse ceremony." His fingers brush your arm, feather-light but burning. "Unless, of course, there's a reason you're rushing to tie yourself to Pope Hayward before you have time to… reconsider your options."

The implication hangs heavy in the air between you.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" you challenge, pushing back against his desk to create space between you again, trying to ignore how even that small contact sends electricity through your body.

"What does what mean?" Rafe's feigned innocence doesn't match the dangerous glint in his eyes.

"Please don't play dumb, Mr. Cameron. 'Reconsider my options'?" Your voice gains strength with indignation, spine straightening as you finally push back. "If you're implying something's wrong with my relationship, you're deeply mistaken."

Rafe's eyebrow arches with dangerous interest, his cerulean eyes gleaming at your defensive tone. Trouble in paradise? he thinks, noting how quickly you jumped to defend a supposedly perfect relationship. Like a shark scenting blood in the water, he catalogs your reaction for future use – another crack in the facade he can exploit.

Rafe's response is a low, boyish chuckle that shouldn't affect you the way it does – shouldn't make your breath hitch or your cunt to clench. The worst part is, he seems to know exactly what that laugh does to you, his cerulean eyes darkening with satisfaction at your visible response.

"All I'm suggesting," he purrs, leaning closer despite your attempts to maintain distance, "is that a month in Morocco might give you some… clarity. About what you really want in life.--"

About who you really want in life, Rafe thinks.

His eyes rake over you appraisingly. "How old are you, if you don't mind me asking? I know you're young. Young girls like you shouldn't be rushing into marriage when there's a whole world to explore."

The condescension in his tone ignites something fierce in you. Nice save, Rafe, but not good enough.

"And perhaps," you counter, voice sharp with newfound courage, "I could say the same to you, Mr. Cameron. I suppose living under your father's ownership isn't something a man your age should be doing either, maybe you should follow your own advice about exploration and independence." You shrug, the gesture deliberately casual, but your words strike with surgical precision. It's a direct hit to his deepest insecurity, and you both know it – the way his jaw clenches and his cerulean eyes darken tells you exactly how deep that barb has landed.

Without waiting for a response, you storm out of his office, letting your anger carry you past the weight of his stare.

But even as you retreat, his words follow you like a shadow: One month with Rafe in Morocco. One month that could change everything – or destroy it all. The smart thing would be to say no, to run straight to Pope and never look back.

Yet as you sink into your desk chair, suddenly, the phantom weight of an engagement ring you can't even afford feels heavy on your finger. Despite your anger at his manipulation, despite your better judgment screaming warnings, you find yourself wondering what kind of clarity Rafe Cameron could offer under the Moroccan sun.

And fuck, if you're being honest with yourself, that extra Morocco bonus could solve a lot of problems. The kind of problems that Pope's courthouse wedding and earnest but empty promises can't fix. The thought sits in your stomach like lead – equal parts guilt and temptation, wrapped in the dangerous possibility of what saying yes to Rafe Cameron might mean.

As you sank deeper into your desk chair, a chilling thought suddenly struck you. How did Rafe know about your engagement to Pope Hayward? You'd never mentioned it to him, had been deliberately careful to keep your personal life separate from work.

The realization that he'd somehow known all along made your skin crawl, adding another layer to the growing mystery of exactly how much Rafe Cameron watched you when you weren't looking.

A firecracker you were. That's what kept repeating in Rafe's mind, smiling to himself, as he slouched in his leather desk chair, trying to regain his composure.

The slap you given him yesterday still burned on his cheek. Today's verbal assault stung even deeper. No one talked to Rafe Cameron like that – no one except you.

And fuck, if that didn't make him want you more.

No wonder Pope wanted to marry you. The thought made his blood boil, but he had to admit – that fire, that spine of steel beneath your professional exterior… it was intoxicating. You weren't just another pretty secretary. You were a force of nature trapped in business casual.

For ten minutes after your explosive exit, Rafe sat there, fighting both his rage and his boner. The way you'd thrown his daddy issues back in his face, matching his cruelty with your own – no one else had ever dared. Not his father's yes-men, not his business partners, not even Ward himself. Just you, his perfect, infuriating secretary who thought she belonged to Pope Hayward.

His body's reaction to your defiance was embarrassingly obvious, but then again, nothing about his obsession with you had ever been subtle. Every rejection, every sharp word, every flash of that fierce independence just made him more determined to break you down, to own you completely.

Morocco couldn't come soon enough, Rafe thought.

During most of his solo lunches, Rafe took himself into Cameron Development's newly remodeled canteen – a massive improvement over the old one, now boasting a Starbucks, Panera Bread, and McDonald's.

On his high-calorie days, nothing beat a Big Mac with fries, a guilty pleasure he'd never admit to his health-obsessed father.

Today, however, his appetite vanished the moment he spotted Pope Hayward holding court at one of the central tables. The sight of him, surrounded by laughing colleagues, made Rafe's jaw clench. Pope was clearly in the middle of some elaborate story, gesturing with his sandwich, playing the charming man that everyone seemed to love.

Rafe lingered by the McDonald's counter, watching through narrowed eyes as Pope checked his phone, probably texting you. The way Pope's face lit up at whatever response he received made Rafe's fingers curl into fists.

That should be his messages making you smile, his lunch breaks spent with you.

The Big Mac in his hands suddenly felt like ash in his mouth. Watching Pope play the perfect fiancé, the beloved colleague, the man who dared to claim what belonged to Rafe – it was enough to make him reconsider every non-violent solution to the Pope Hayward problem.

But then again, Rafe thought bitterly, remembering Ward's warning about Pope being untouchable. No matter how much he fantasized about making his rival disappear, Pope's position at R&P made him politically bulletproof. The merger was too important, the relationships too valuable to risk.

So, what the hell, Rafe thought, his lips curving into a dangerous smile. If you can't beat them, join them – and learn their weaknesses from the inside.

"Pope Hayward," Rafe interrupted, his voice cutting through Pope's animated story about some youthful adventure with his Pogue friends. "Long time no see."

The conversation at the table died instantly. Every head turned toward him, faces marked with varying degrees of wariness and surprise.

Rafe couldn't help but appreciate the poetry of the moment – gathered around this corporate lunch table were three men whose faces he'd bloodied more times than he could count: Pope Hayward, Topper Thornton, and Kelce Thompson (both whom he hadn't noticed until now).

The irony wasn't lost on him. These three ghosts from his violent past, now wearing suits and playing at respectability in his mid-thirties. Each one a reminder of who he used to be – and who he still was beneath his own expensive suit.

Pope worked for R&P, climbing the corporate ladder with irritating success. Topper had somehow landed a cushy position under Ward at their mainland branch. And Kelce, who'd never quite figured out the corporate game, still hung around like a remora fish attached to his more successful friends. When had these former enemies become such close allies? The thought made something twist unpleasantly in Rafe's gut.

"Ah, Rafe Cameron," Pope's response came with that insufferably casually witty tone that made Rafe's teeth grind. "What do you mean, I just saw you yesterday, remember that meeting on the Morocco properties?" He paused, a knowing glint in his eye. "You know, the one where you couldn't seem to keep your eyes off my fiancée?"

The word 'fiancée' hung in the air like a challenge. Pope said it so casually, so confidently – marking his territory while maintaining that easy smile. Topper and Kelce exchanged glances, sensing the dangerous undertone of what should have been a simple business reference.

Rafe's cerulean eyes darkened at the subtle jab. Pope might be younger, might play at being the easygoing professional, but there was steel beneath that casual exterior. He knew exactly what he was doing, deliberately reminding Rafe of both your engagement and his own awareness of Rafe's obsession.

The fluorescent lights of the canteen suddenly felt too bright, the space between them too charged with unspoken threats.

How bad would it look if Rafe eliminated Pope Hayward in the corporate canteen? Just reach across the pristine table and finish what he'd started all those years ago on the beach--and all those other times, and while he was at it, he might as well take care of Topper Thornton too – the ambitious little shit who keeps eyeing Rafe's position like a vulture circling dying prey. 

Rafe wasn't blind to the bitter reality unfolding before him. He saw the way Ward looked at Topper during meetings – that proud gleam in his father's eyes that Rafe hadn't seen directed at himself since childhood. The same look Ward used to give Sarah. While Rafe drowned in cocaine and debt, Topper had transformed from childhood rival into everything Ward wanted in a son.

The perfect fucking fairy tale: Topper Thornton, who'd married Sarah Cameron in that lavish ceremony three years ago, becoming the golden son-in-law, the brother Rafe never wanted. Now he was one of the company's top performers, stealing deals right out from under Rafe's nose with that same prep school charm that had stolen his sister.

Each of Rafe's failures – the mounting debts, the drug habit he couldn't kick, his growing obsession with you – seemed to push Ward further into Topper's camp. It was only a matter of time before his father decided to make the switch, replacing his disgrace of a son with the perfect proxy he'd always wanted.

But then that strange voice echoed in his head again: if you can't beat them, join them. The thought was foreign, almost painful – submission had never been in Rafe's vocabulary. Yet for once, maybe playing nice could work to his advantage. Get close enough to learn their weaknesses, their secrets. After all, the best way to destroy someone was from the inside.

For the first time in years, Rafe Cameron found himself considering patience over violence. The thought scared him almost as much as it intrigued him.

"Topper, Kelce, long time no see as well." Rafe forced the words through a practiced smile, deliberately turning away from Pope before his fists made decisions his career couldn't afford. He studied Pope's easy demeanor carefully, looking for any sign that you'd told him about the bathroom incident.

If Pope knew about that kiss, about how Rafe had tasted his fiancée's lips and lived to tell about it, this pleasant lunch scene would be very different.

The Pogues might play at being corporate now, but Rafe knew better – if Pope knew, he and his band of loyal attack dogs would have already stormed Rafe's waterfront condo with their old fury, all pretense of civilization stripped away.

But Pope's relaxed posture and casual smile suggested the kiss was still your little secret.

"How's my sister, and my niece?" Rafe said suddenly.

The mention of Sarah hung heavy in the air – another reminder of everything Topper had that should have been Rafe's: Ward's approval, the company's respect, a perfect family.

"Sarah and I are doing fine," Topper replied, his tone carrying that subtle note of superiority that made Rafe's jaw clench. "Madeline just started to walk." He paused, letting his next words land like carefully aimed darts. "You'd know this if you called every once in a while – introduce yourself to your niece."

The judgment in Topper's voice was clear: here was another way Rafe had failed as a Cameron. Another box Topper could check off in his perfect son-in-law performance.

Even being an uncle was something Rafe couldn't get right.

The worst part wasn't Topper's smugness or Pope's knowing smirk – it was that they were right. Rafe had been so consumed with his own demons, with watching you, with fucking random girls from bars, with chasing cocaine highs, that he'd missed his own niece's first steps.

Sarah would never forgive him for that, but then again, Sarah hadn't forgiven him for a lot of things.

"Wow, Rafe, you haven't even met your niece yet?" Kelce's voice dripped with theatrical shock, adding unnecessary drama like the background character he'd always been. His comment made the weight of Rafe's failures press harder against his chest.

"What can I say, I'm a busy man." Rafe's smile didn't reach his eyes. Then, seeing his opportunity, he shifted his attention back to Pope. "Speaking of busy – Pope, got a minute? Need to discuss something about your--" Rafe pauses, swallowing down his pride, "fiancée's role in the Morocco project."

The atmosphere at the table shifted instantly. Topper's eyes narrowed with suspicion, while Kelce looked between them like he was watching a tennis match. But it was Pope's reaction Rafe watched most carefully – the slight tension in his jaw, the way his easy smile faltered for just a moment.

"Sure thing, dude," Pope replied, emphasizing the casual term just to irk him. "Though I'm pretty sure any discussions about my fiancée's employment should go through HR, not me."

Rafe's smile turned predatory. "Trust me, this is something you'll want to hear in private."

"What is it Cameron? I don't got all day for your bullshit." Pope's words bounced off the nautical-themed walls of Rafe's office – the ones he'd designed with you in mind, a detail that made this conversation even sweeter.

"What makes you think it's bullshit I'm about to tell you, and not something that can change your life?" Rafe settled into his leather chair, fingers steepled beneath his chin. "Or more specifically, change your courthouse wedding into something actually worthy of my secretary?"

Pope's eyes narrowed. "Get to the point."

"Morocco," Rafe said simply, watching Pope's reaction carefully. "The bonus alone would set you both up nicely. We're talking six figures, Pope. Enough to buy a real house, throw a real wedding. Maybe finally afford that engagement ring you've been 'saving up' for that she doesn't have to pay for?"

He let that sink in, noting how Pope's jaw clenched at the jab about his finances. "All you have to do is convince her to come with me. One month in Morocco, and you two could finally start living like Kooks instead of… well." Rafe gestured vaguely at Pope's off-the-rack suit.

"You really expect me to send my fiancée off to Morocco with you?" Pope's laugh held no humor. "I'm not an idiot Cameron, I see the way you look at her like she's a piece of meat--" His eyes hardened, that easy Pogue charm evaporating into something more dangerous. "Which I've been meaning to say to you--cut it out, dude, and get your own, that's not cool."

That "dude" hung in the air between them – a deliberate reminder of their age gap. Pope, still young enough to use such casual language in a corporate setting, while Rafe… well, Rafe was old enough to remember beating him unconscious for less disrespect than this.

The age difference had never bothered Rafe before. But now, watching Pope's boyish smile, knowing he was the one who got to wake up next to you every morning – it felt like salt in an open wound. You deserved someone more refined, more powerful. Someone who could give you more than courthouse weddings and young love optimism.

Someone like Rafe. 

"No," Rafe's smile turned shark-like--similar to his father's. "I expect you to want what's best for her. Unless, of course, you're happy watching her work as my secretary forever, living paycheck to paycheck, settling for courthouse ceremonies because her fiancé can't provide better."

The words hung in the air like poison. Rafe could see them working their way into Pope's mind, past his suspicion and into that deep-seated insecurity about not being good enough for you. After all, what kind of man would deny his future wife a chance at a better life?

"Think about it, Pope," Rafe pressed his advantage. "One month of discomfort for a lifetime of luxury. That's all I'm offering. The question is – do you love her enough to let her have it?"

"You're full of shit." Pope spat the words like venom as he headed for the door.

"Just think about it, Hayward--" He watched Pope's shoulders tense. "And hey."

Pope paused in the doorway, and Rafe's lips curved into that dangerous Cameron smile. "If you convince her to come with me, and you find out I try to make any move on her, I give you all rights to kick my ass. How's that sound?"

Rafe watched with predatory intensity, head tilted slightly as Pope weighed his options. The soft 'tsk' that escaped Pope's lips only made Rafe's smile sharpen – like a wolf watching its prey realize it's already trapped. Every second of Pope's hesitation felt like victory.

Before either man could speak again, the office door burst open. You stood there, slightly breathless, concern etched across your features. "Mr. Cameron? Is everything alright? I saw Mr. Hayward leaving and-"

"Just discussing some properties, sweetheart," Rafe cut in smoothly, his predatory smile softening into something almost believable. "Weren't we, Pope?"

Pope's jaw clenched at the endearment, but he managed a nod. "Yeah, just business." He caught your eye, and for a moment, looked like he wanted to say more. Instead, he turned and walked away, the weight of his decision settling heavy on his shoulders.

Rafe watched you watch Pope leave, already imagining how perfectly his plan was falling into place. Morocco was going to change everything – he'd make sure of it.

a/n -- this shit about to get so messy yall-

taglist-

@trapistani @alexxavicry @rafestoothbrush @ttrinity @jjmaybankmylovee @slut4rafey @Itristessedureratoujours @hittmeandtellmeyouremine @yoongling @lilithblackkk @yootvi @alyisdead @littlelamy @skel-skell @sydkneez @akobx @otheliesstuff @slut-4-gojo @darkuni63

[crookedteethed]

WORLD'S sluttiest assistant | r.c.

[warning] 18+ smut (pinv), oral (m receiving) face fucking, language, abuse of power, degradation, dubcon, porn with little plot, mentions of spit, Dacryphilia

You were always told to knock before entering Mr. Cameron's office, no matter the circumstances.

You wait for his response, your body shaking, not only because of the piping hot coffee (a request from Mr. Cameron) burning your hand but also the fear you feel for whatever lies behind the door in front of you because you know you had fucked up, bad.  

"Come in." you hear him say. His tone rich in annoyance, but what else was new?

You entered his office on his command a wobbling mess.

"Y-your coffee, sir. One black coffee. No sugar or cream.”

You didn't mean to stuttter, it was just something you often found yourself doing in the presence of your boss.

It was his cold cerulean stare that always made you feel so small.

As you walked the coffee to his desk, you made sure to watch your ever step--because even the slightest thing could tick off your boss.

When you placed the coffee on his desk, Rafe was quick to take it, taking one long sip from it. He let out a pleased sigh when he was done.

Then you watched as he stood up from his desk, walked to his glass cabinets, and pulled out a thick cream folder.

Your body tensed as Rafe slowly brought himself to the edge of his desk, nearly inches away from your body.

"Look over this for me." he told you, handing you the cream folder, a condescending smile tugged on his lips.

Instantly, you recognized your work. The same work you did overtime for the night before and left on Rafe's desk.

"What is this?" Rafe asked you when you were done skimming through the folder.

"I-it's the paperwork for our client, Coldwater Creek..." you trail off, unsure whether to continue, as you couldn't tell if this was good news Rafe was hearing or the opposite.

Nonetheless, you continued.

"This paperwork finalizes their demolition process, Sir.”

Rafe hums.

"So, this is the paperwork for Coldwater Creek?" he asked you, which couldn't have been more then a trick question.

You nod anyway.

You watched as Rafe visibly gotten angry, his eyebrows furrowing and is eyes turning wild.

"The same Coldwater Creek we dropped a few weeks ago, correct?”

Rafe stood up from his desk, his tall stature hovering over you like a skyscraper; it was right then that you wanted to kick yourself in the teeth, realizing you had settled the wrong paperwork for the wrong company.

You felt yourself get teary eyed, tears piled up in your tear ducts just waiting to be released.

Rafe continued. "Do you know how pissed the President of Coldwater Creek was to find out one of his branches had gotten demolished by our wrecking crew, Y/n? He'd threaten to sue."

It was the anger in his demeanor but the lack of it in Rafe's tone that made the first tear slip down your cheek.

"Jesus Christ, what are you crying for? This affects me more than it does you." He smacks his teeth.

He sighs.

"You can stop crying because I talked Mr. Cobblestone down, luckily, and he won't sue. However, this means that Cameron Development now has to build a free property for a company that owes us money. Like, Wow, Y/n, do you know what you have done?" He sounds astonished.

"I don't mean to sound rude when I ask you this, but, what the fuck? Are you that much of an idiot, Y/n?" He asks you.

You couldn't tell if he really wanted you to answer the question, but even if you could, you couldn't as you been a standing crying mess in front of him.

"Can you stop fucking crying!" He shouted for the first time, which ironically made you cry even more.

"Shit." Rafe gritted, palming himself. "Get on your fucking knees, now." He commanded, pushing you down by your shoulders and fumbling with his belt buckle and pushing down his slacks.

Rafe doesn't let you process what is even happening before taking your face and slamming his cock down your throat--all nine inches of him, causing a gag to elicit from your mouth. 

A forceful tear escapes from your closed eyes as Rafe brings your head as close as possible to his body to where his cock is pressed deep into the back of your throat.

He stays like this for a moment, sighing and relishing in the feeling of your warm, wet, pathetic mouth taking him whole. 

You stared up at him with pleading, teary eyes--with the occasional "GAK!" that would irrupt from your mouth. 

Then suddenly, Rafe begins getting himself off with your mouth. 

"Fuck, that's it, honey." He cooed, with a fist full of your hair bobbing back and forth. 

"D-do you know how bad this makes my company look, Y/n?" Rafe continued the conversation as if you weren't gagging on his cock right now. 

"Do you have any idea how bad this makes me look?”

Nothing in life could have prepared you for this very moment--giving your boss a bj while he yells at you about how much you'd fuck up. 

You hated yourself for how much you liked this.

Your cunt was dripping by the minute. 

"This makes me and my company look unprofessional. When people think of Cameron Development, they think of me, not a bimbo slut like you." Rafe told you, each thrust growing aggressive.

"Any little fuck up you do, will always get pinned back to me." He said through gritted teeth. "Do you understand that?" 

As Rafe continues to face fuck you, your jaw begins to grow sore, and you can't help but notice the saliva that drips down your chin. 

"Dicks got your tongue? Didn't you hear me?" Rafe had gripped your head. "I said, do you understand me?"

Why did he have to make it so hard on you? 

Pathetically, you nod, hoping he will give you a break. But to your dismay, Rafe said:

"I don't think you do understand me, Y/n. I guess I'll have to show you." 

And before you knew it, Rafe was lifting and bending you over the edge of his glass desk. 

The cool touch of the glass against your skin sent shivers down your spine as he tore through your tights with an almost animalistic urgency.

You could feel the adrenaline building as you surrendered to the moment.

It wasn't long until Rafe was shoving you to the brim with his cock.

Rafe's movements were primal and his grip on your hips were firm, yet possessive, as he held you in place.

Skin-on-skin slapping and quick breaths filled the room.

The sensation of the deep drag of Rafe's thick cock penetrating inside of your cunt had you blurring the lines between pain and ecstasy. 

You could feel the tension building, a delicious pressure that threatened to overwhelm you.

Now and then, Rafe would either degrade you about how much of a dumb slut you were or praise you for having such a tight cunt--which would only add to the tension building in your core. 

It was when you began meeting Rafe with his thrust did he stop insulting you and started focusing on one thing: his sweet release in your cunt. 

With each meeting of your hips, the intensity grew, and Rafe's focus sharpened. His breaths became ragged, and the primal urgency in his movements spoke volumes more than words ever could.

The heat was building up inside of you.

Rafe's grip tightened around your waist, guiding you to match his pace, urging you to meet him thrust for thrust.

With each thrust, Rafe's focus deepened, his eyes locked onto your heart shaped ass with intensity.

As the tension reached its peak, you felt yourself teetering on the brink, the world around you blurring into a whirlwind of pleasure.

Rafe's movements became more urgent, his breaths more frantic, and you knew he was close and the thought of his release sent a thrill through you, pushing you closer to your own climax.

In that moment, nothing else mattered as both you and Rafe came undone.

Rafe's urgent thrusts drove you both to the edge, and as he lost himself in the depths of pleasure, you felt the wave of your climax crashing over you.

It was a powerful release, a culmination of desire that left you breathless and trembling.

And like every time after you had fucked, Rafe was in such a hurry to act like nothing had happened. 

By the time you could strengthen yourself and fix your tattered and bunched clothing, Rafe had already been at his desk and typing away on his laptop, finishing up his coffee. 

And just as you were leaving his office, Mr. Cameron told you: 

"I've seen enough of you today; take the rest of the day off, and come back with your head screwed on right tomorrow."

[crookedteethed]

Girl, I am so excited to post this—literally foaming at the mouth rn. 😵‍💫

(The teaser)

[rafecameronssl4t]

Saving Grace || CEO!Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: When Rafe Cameron’s infamous temper threatens to derail the entire office, his wife is called in as the only person who can bring him back to earth.

Warnings: none!

Word count: 2,051

MASTERLIST

Rafe Cameron could be described in many ways: arrogant, sharp-tongued, perpetually stone-faced, and infamously hot-headed. His temper was a ticking time bomb, always moments away from detonation. It didn’t take much to set him off—a missed detail, an oversight, or even the wrong tone of voice—and once his mood soured, it had a ripple effect on everyone within his orbit.

If Rafe was in a foul mood, the entire office braced itself for the storm, knowing they’d bear the brunt of his frustration. Productivity stalled, morale plummeted, and an oppressive tension hung heavy in the air. No one dared to ask if he was okay or offer to fix the issue—it was simply understood that his temper had to run its course.

But there was one person who had mastered the art of disarming the bomb: his assistant, Rachael. If anyone in the office had something to say about Rachael, it was that she knew Rafe Cameron far too well. She had an uncanny ability to read his moods and an arsenal of strategies for defusing them. Most importantly, she understood the one surefire way to calm Rafe down: his wife.

The woman who he worshipped the ground she walked on, mother to his children, and the only person Rafe Cameron seemed to hold above all else. No matter how irritable or unapproachable he became, the mere mention of her name was enough to shift the atmosphere. So when Rachael watched one of her coworkers stumble out of Rafe’s office, barely holding back tears, she knew it was time to intervene.

Her sharp eyes scanned the room, noting the nervous glances exchanged between staff members who were all too aware of the storm brewing behind Rafe’s closed door. Without missing a beat, Rachael grabbed her phone, dialling a number she had memorised long ago. As the call connected, her tone softened—a stark contrast to the sharp efficiency she displayed in the office.

“Hi, Mrs. Cameron,” she began, her voice carrying a mixture of urgency and familiarity. “I hate to bother you, but it’s one of those days. If you’re free, I think a quick word with Rafe might do the trick.” She paused, listening intently before smiling to herself. Rachael didn’t need to explain much; Mrs. Cameron always seemed to know exactly how to handle her husband.

And while the office might dread Rafe’s infamous outbursts, Rachael found comfort in knowing there was someone who could bring the man back down to earth. She let out a small sigh of relief when she heard your calm, reassuring voice on the other end of the line. “I’ll be right there,” you said, your tone steady but with a hint of warmth that was reserved for conversations about your husband.

Without hesitation, you grabbed your car keys, slipping on a pair of heels as you prepared to leave. It wasn’t the first time you’d been called in to play peacemaker, and it likely wouldn’t be the last. Rafe’s temper was legendary, but you knew how to navigate it better than anyone else. You’d seen him at his worst, the raw edges of his frustration and anger, but you also knew the softer side of him—the part that melted when you walked into a room, the man who looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky.

As you slid into the driver’s seat, your thoughts briefly flickered to your children, safely at home with the nanny. You didn’t want to leave them, but you also understood that Rafe needed you. He might not admit it outright, especially not in front of his staff, but the subtle ways he sought you out after a rough day spoke volumes.

~

As you walked toward your husband’s office, the energy in the space shifted noticeably. Heads turned, relief washing over faces that had been tense just moments before. Hushed whispers followed in your wake, employees murmuring their gratitude for the one person who could tame the storm that was Rafe Cameron. Even without uttering a word, your presence commanded respect—graceful yet undeniably authoritative.

“You have no idea how happy I am to see you, Mrs. Cameron,” Rachael said as she stood from her desk, her tone filled with a mixture of hope and exhaustion. “He’s in his office, and he’s miserable in there.” You glanced through the glass wall into Rafe’s office. Rachael hadn’t exaggerated—his frustration was palpable. The furrow of his brow, the tight set of his jaw, and the restless movements of his hands screamed of a man on the verge of losing his patience entirely.

You offered Rachael a small, reassuring smile before making your way to the door, your heels clicking softly against the polished floor. You didn’t bother knocking—Rafe hated formalities when it came to you. The heavy sigh he let out at the sound of the door opening was immediate. His eyes remained locked on the papers scattered across his desk, his tone sharp and cold.

“I thought I said I didn’t want to be disturbed.” A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you stepped inside. “Does that include me?” you asked, your voice sweet and smooth, cutting through the tension. Rafe’s head snapped up at the sound of your voice, his piercing blue eyes meeting yours. Instantly, his rigid posture softened, and the weight on his shoulders seemed to lift.

The frustration etched into his features melted away, replaced by a look that could only be described as unguarded affection. Just your presence had the power to undo him. Without a word, Rafe reached behind his desk and flicked a switch, causing the glass walls of his office to turn frosted, granting the two of you privacy. His voice softened, tinged with genuine curiosity and concern.

“What are you doing here, baby?" You walked around his desk, your movements fluid and deliberate, and Rafe turned in his chair to face you fully. Standing in front of him, you saw the shift in his expression—the hard edges of his day crumbling as he looked up at you. And there it was, the look that never failed to steal your breath.

No matter how difficult or frustrating his day had been, Rafe always looked at you like you were his entire world, as though you hung the moon and stars just for him. In his eyes, there was nothing but pure, unfiltered love—a stark contrast to the icy exterior he showed everyone else. You leaned down, your fingers brushing lightly against his jaw as you pressed a gentle kiss to his lips.

His shoulders visibly relaxed at the familiar touch, the tension from his day dissolving. “You’re scaring your employees,” you teased softly, your words accompanied by a light chuckle as you straightened up. Rafe let out a dramatic sigh, leaning back in his chair and rolling his eyes. “They’re ridiculous,” he muttered, his tone laced with both irritation and amusement.

“They’re terrified,” you corrected, folding your arms and raising a brow at him. “I saw one of them practically in tears.” Rafe groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “It’s not my fault they can’t handle a little pressure.” You gave him a knowing look, stepping closer and resting your hands on the armrests of his chair, effectively boxing him in. “Rafe, you can be a little… intense,” you said gently, your eyes locking with his. “And by ‘a little,’ I mean a lot.”

His lips quirked into a smirk, his hands instinctively finding your waist. “You don’t seem scared of me,” he said, his voice dropping into a softer, almost teasing tone. “That’s because I know the real you,” you replied, brushing a strand of hair out of his face. “The one who spoils me, reads bedtime stories to the kids, and eats all the burnt pancakes I make without complaining.”

He let out a low chuckle, the sound rumbling from his chest. “You know I love those burnt pancakes,” he murmured, tugging you closer until you were practically sitting on his lap. “Hmm,” you hummed playfully, trailing your fingers along the lapel of his blazer. “Maybe I should remind your staff that under all that brooding, you’re just a big softie.”

“Don’t you dare,” he warned, though his smirk betrayed the emptiness of his threat. You laughed softly, pressing another kiss to his lips before pulling back just enough to meet his gaze. “Then maybe try to be a little nicer? For me?” He sighed, feigning reluctance, but the way his hands tightened on your waist betrayed his surrender. “Fine,” he said, his tone mockingly begrudging. “But only because you asked so nicely.”

“That’s all I needed to hear,” you said with a satisfied smile, brushing your thumb against his cheek. “Now, why don’t you take a break? Let me help you relax before you scare anyone else.” Rafe’s smirk softened into a genuine smile, the love in his eyes shining brighter than ever. “You really are my saving grace,” he murmured, his voice low and sincere.