𝓢ingle 𝓓addy
Disclaimer: This is inspired by @deergrande ’s post. Not exact to the OG idea but ye :’)
Pairing: Single!DILF!Rafe x College!Babysitter!Reader
Word Count: 1.1k
Warnings: Single dad Rafe, College student reader, age gap, power dynamic, flirting, mentions of alcohol, besides that it’s fluff
𐂯 ⁰ᨵᩥ⁰ 𐂯
Rafe Cameron started as your parents’ next-door neighbor. The hot, older, single dad who was always asked, “How are you not taken yet?”
He had a past, a record, but enough money to earn respectful nods from the men and small talk from the women- who’d probably cheat on their husbands with him if they could.
But things weren’t perfect behind the scenes, not that anyone noticed. Rafe was too good at looking effortless. He kept up appearances, showed up for his son’s school events, had a maid, cooked dinner himself, all while working a 9-5.
It was exhausting having no one to pick up the weight of parenting. He felt himself drowning in responsibility, but he was too prideful to ask for help, like a shark biting its own tail.
Until you entered the picture. Kind, thoughtful, and willing to bear the brunt. That’s how your mother offered you up to him, at least. He hired you for two days a week, only four hours while he still worked in the home. You realized early on that Rafe was a control freak of sorts. He didn’t like having to surrender to someone what he believed only he could do.
But he forced his ego to quiet, masking it with rigid nods and pressing his tongue against his cheek.
“You don’t have to do that.” he’d always say. “No, it’s fine.” you’d reply. It was routine at this point.
The more time you spent in the home, the more Rafe eased up. Not many would’ve been able to bear him breathing down their neck, waiting for a mistake to be made. But you were in college, which your dad refused to pay for, and Rafe was rich. You needed every penny.
Not to mention how attractive he was.
With his clean suit and big eyes and the way his mustache twitched when you said something he actually found funny.
Rafe began to dote on and spoil you in a way that’d earn widened eyes and parted lips of surprise if anyone knew.
First came the favors.
“Will you pick up Levi from school?”
“Do you mind stopping by the grocery store on the way over? I’ll send you the money.”
“Can you help me decide on a new couch? Pick out your favorite.”
Rather than focusing on his slowly blooming vulnerability, you concerned yourself with tasks and his boy. Your friends joked and shoved that he must be falling for you. Rolling your eyes, you’d scoff and, “Yeah, right.” every time.
Then came the gifts.
It started small, like offering you a glass of wine. Smooth, a bit too velvety, and way too expensive for someone used to cheap beers on Saturday nights.
Followed by extra cash, enough to buy red bottom heels with. A suggestion Rafe himself made. Of course you didn’t do it, instead putting the money in savings. He wasn’t pleased.
So he bought you the shoes anyway.
On your birthday, you expected a cheery comment from Rafe. He’d been smiling more than usual, almost like a kid with a big secret.
Which he might as well have been, because he handed you a small box with ‘Dior’ across the top in their signature font.
Your eyes widened, darting to his, where he gave you a nod of encouragement. He licked his lips, wiping his hands on his suit pantlegs as if he were nervous.
And he was.
Carefully, you opened the box, revealing a delicate but unmissable necklace. In your favorite metal, with a perfect heart pendant. Small, sleek, and yet it held promise. Possibly a confession. But you couldn’t let yourself think too far ahead.
Then you did, but only when he started flirting.
Rafe would make small comments, growing bolder when you reacted positively. He reserved them for short stints of time where the two of you were alone.
“You look real pretty in that dress, Sweetheart.”
You smiled, still wiping down the counter where Levi had made a mess with the syrup from his pancakes earlier.
“You think so?”
“Yeah, why don’t you give me a little spin?” he smirked.
He never crossed the line, only toed it. You felt respectfully wanted but undeniably curious. Nerves prevented you from asking the hard hitters. Usually, you were direct, confrontational, and never one for games… just not when it came to Rafe Cameron.
He had a way of building butterflies in your lower belly and warmth in your chest. Thoughts buzzed behind your eyes, anticipating the day he’d finally break and ask.
He never did.
𐂯 ⁰ᨵᩥ⁰ 𐂯
The front door closes with a click and a sigh. A quiet indication that he’s home and in a good mood today. Levi scurries past, the little blond with his daddy’s eyes ecstatic with excitement.
Lifting his arms, “Daddy! Daddy!” he jumps. Rafe grins, picking up the boy and placing him on his hip.
You stand back with your arms crossed over your chest, silently witnessing the domestic scene with a soft smile.
He ruffles his son’s hair, quietly asking, “How was your day, bud?” Levi returns the smile, looking just like Rafe- with a few missing teeth. “Good, I made a drawing!”
That peaks Rafe’s interest, setting Levi back down, “Alright, kid, lead the way.”
Both of you follow like lost puppies, but Rafe’s attention soon turns to you. His hand meets the small of your back, “How’s your day?”
You feel that same electric sensation shoot through your core. The one only his touch can elicit.
“It’s been good.”
He nods, bringing his other hand to run his pointer and thumb over his mustache. “That’s good.”
Levi grabs your attention again, shattering the moment with his picture up in the air, small hands gripping the page enough to crinkle the edges.
“Look!”
Both you and Rafe pause, a beat of hesitance settling over the kitchen.
“Who’s that, bud?” you’re the first to ask, pointing to the stick figure bride.
His eyes grow with pride at his artwork, “That’s you!”
Rafe stands there with a look of… well, he looks flabbergasted. Even a little embarrassed.
The two of you weren’t even dating…
For once, your hand finds his hip, giving it a little squeeze. A tease and a quiet, “Gotcha” moment all in one.
The older man’s sparkling gaze meets your more amused one. His eyebrows are raised but there’s a flicker of joy passing over his face. The two of you stare at each other for a short eternity. Both feeling your shared secret of ‘Us’ falling apart in this one little second.
Rafe’s smirk returns at once, but his tongue passes over his lips like they always do when he’s nervous.
That doesn’t stop him from slipping in a joke.
One that finally crosses the line.
“If the ring fits, baby.”
