𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐞’𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥

“Baby,” Rafe calls out in hopes that you’re just in the bathroom. He stares at the ajar door leading to the toilet, but it doesn’t move. No one responds to him. A few birds chirp outside his window, and he finally realises that he’s completely alone right now.

He pouts. Rafe Cameron pouts, because there’s no one here to see him act like a child and he’s missing his pretty girlfriend too much. You left him to wake up alone, so that must mean you hate him.

Fuck. He knew it. He knew you hated him. He’s had a feeling for a good amount of time. An angel like you should never settle for a bullshit of a boyfriend like himself, and you realised that yourself at last.

So Rafe trudges down the stairs of Tannyhill in an absolutely foul mood, sending glares toward every corner despite being alone in the Cameron estate. But even then, even as he’s pouting and frowning and waiting to punch anyone who appears in front of him, he’s still hoping that with every edge he turns, you might appear.

You don’t. Maybe that’s because he hasn’t really turned any corners at all, but still. You don’t appear. You just don’t.

Have you really left? Left Rafe alone to wallow in his misery once again? He hasn’t not had you in a while, and truth be told, he’s gotten too used to it. He knows he shouldn’t, but he can’t help it. He loves you too much, and he needs you too much. Every second of every day.

“Baby …” he whines in frustration, to no one in particular, as he enters the kitchen, expression contorted like he’s holding back tears. He runs a rough hand through his buzzed hair and tries to grip and pull on his strands, but then he remembers that he doesn’t have that hair anymore.

(He should’ve listened to you when you told him not to shave off all his hair. Is that why you left him? Fuck. He hates his past self now. Why didn’t he listen?)

Rafe heads straight for the coffee machine, grumbling under his breath about how you “better be surprising me with head for scaring me like this.”

“The fuck?”

He whips around, almost spraining a muscle. His eyes are as wide as saucers, pupils blown so wide that the blue of his irises is almost nonexistent. Rafe swallows hard, Adam’s apple bobbing as he stares straight at you.

Shit. Did she hear that?

“What’s got your panties in a fuckin’ twist?” you scoff lightheartedly, amusement lacing your features as you laugh softly. You’re holding a mug, filled with your morning coffee already, and Rafe thinks he might cry.

Your lips part again so you can say something, but Rafe doesn’t hear a single word at all. His mind is racing, and his heart is beating too loudly in his chest. He can hear his heartbeat speeding up with every second that passes, and the pace with which he approaches you almost matches the rate his heart is going at.

“No— Nonononono, my coffee—” you sputter, attempting to save your day’s life support by leaving it safe on the nearest counter. A good half of it spills anyway when Rafe throws himself at you, clutching you so tightly you wonder if you’ve done something wrong.

The base of your mug clatters against the marble counter. Rafe buries his face into your neck, inhaling your scent like he’s forgotten it over the time he spent without you in bed with him. He lets out a soft sound that’s a little too similar to a dog’s pitiful whimper.

His nose twitches. “Why did you leave?”

You roll your eyes, but hug him back just as firmly. You’re a little pissed that you’ve lost some of your energy in the form of caffeine, but you have no capacity to think about that as Rafe hugs you so close you’re practically one figure now.

“I was literally just going back up,” you deadpan, patting his back gently, trying to soothe him. You swear he’s crying into your shoulder — is he sniffling? Whining? You’re not sure. You do know that he’s sulking, though. He always does.

And then the proof comes: Rafe groans, the sound muffled from the way he presses his face against you. It’s familiar, because you’ve heard it countless times over the course of your relationship. Which is practically every single fucking day.

He doesn’t say anything, much to your exasperation. He never says anything though, so you don’t know why you’re so pressed. You file that thought away and focus on soothing your big baby of a boyfriend.

For a few very long moments, the two of you stay like that. You’re not sure how much time has passed, but it’s enough for you to grow tired on your feet (because you haven’t had your morning coffee yet).

“Can we—?” you begin, but Rafe cuts you off promptly.

“I thought you left,” he says sadly into your neck, and you can hear the slight crack in his voice. The shakiness and fear of his statement possibly being true when he woke up without you by his side. “For real, baby. I thought you actually packed your shit and left.”

Your annoyance fades into a fond sort of concern. Rafe has attachment issues, and you’re the one person he actually loves too much to let go of. He’s made it clear that anyone else can fuck off when he gets tired, but you? The six feet two future CEO of Cameron Development never wants you to be out of his sight. He needs to have you with him every time.

It’s clear to even a blind person that Rafe can’t function properly without you. Ward’s labelled you a liability countless times before, but Rafe doesn’t care — he hasn’t cared in a long time, and neither have you.

Your head turns to press a kiss against his temple. “Sorry, baby,” you murmur, warm breath tickling his skin. He shifts a little and buries his face deeper into the crook of your neck. “I didn’t think you’d wake up yet. You know I’ll never leave you like that.”

Rafe makes an unintelligible noise that you’re about to question, but then he pulls away from your neck and stares down at you with that pout. You fall silent immediately, watching closely as Rafe’s expression changes from sulky to hopeful and relaxed.

“Yeah,” he whispers, like raising his voice even just a little would chase you away. “You won’t. You love me too much.”

You flash a smile at him, cupping his face tenderly, when he suddenly leans down to kiss you. “Rafe—!”

He plants a giddy kiss on your lips, short and sweet, before pecking your entire face over and over again like he can’t get enough of you. Rafe’s relishing the soft laughs you’re letting out, his heart lurching at the realisation that he’s making you laugh like this.

How could you leave him when you look so happy having his kisses all over your face?

“Come back to bed,” he mumbles, focusing his affection on the corner of your mouth. When he locks eyes with you, you can see the plea in the blue. “We haven’t cuddled enough.”

You nod despite yourself, already reaching for your mug (now half-filled because of a certain someone), but Rafe has other plans.

The fucker picks you up bridal style, ignoring the yelp you make.

“You’re not escaping me this time,” he reasons simply, already walking out of the kitchen despite your protests about your abandoned (and spilt) coffee. You eventually quieten down about it when you realise Rafe won’t be turning around.

Now your coffee’s going to get cold, and you’ll have to make another one.

“You don’t need coffee when you’re gonna spend the whole day with me,” Rafe huffs petulantly, as if he can read your thoughts (and at this point, he probably can, with how well he’s able to decipher your expressions).

“You are exactly why I need coffee,” you grumble under your breath, then let out a high-pitched scream when Rafe almost drops you. “Hey! You know it’s true!”

“But you still love me.”

“Debatable.”

“I’m gonna throw you out the window.”

“You won’t do that. You almost cried ‘cause you woke up alone.”

“I— Fuck. Fine. But we’re still cuddling.”

being barry's sister, he taught you from a young age that being rude allowed you more space in the world & that was what kept you alive. & rafe was everything you'd seen before: classic rich white boy with expensive ralph-lauren polos and an ego taller than him. he was the type only barry dealt with. you lived in a van and drunk beer like water: by nature and even envy did you not get along with people like rafe.

the next day, you was throwing out the trash when a motorbike went past you. the same guy from yesterday, with that bike not having a single scratch on it. you crossed your arms again as he got off, blue eyes meeting yours as he took his helmet off, "i didn't get your name last time, baby."

"you don't need my name." you said shortly, ready to throw the pair of bin bags you had in your hands at him.

he grinned, squinting slightly. after some silence: "then i might need to tell barry why cops are gonna be in his house with an anonymous tip for drugs when he comes back."

"for my name you'd ratt out your only drug dealer?"

"not the only one." he was double-bluffing here but still! you sighed before telling you his name. he nodded, repeating it, before saying, "i'm rafe."

the name sounded familiar, but you simply brushed it off as barry having said it in passing. "okay."

"wow, not even a —"

"what the fuck do you want?" you interjected.

"seriously, if you're going to ratt out barry —"

"let me take you out."

you blinked. "huh?"

rafe grinned again. "let me take you out." he repeated.

at that grin again ... it clicked. this wasn't some random kook boy called rafe ... it was rafe fucking cameron. the one who was notorious for beating up pogues, getting in fights & overall not a pleasant person to be around. & here he was, asking you out. so you stated the obvious: "i'm a fucking pogue."

rafe's smiled thinned for a second as he scratched the back of his head. "yeah, well, whatever."

you narrowed your eyes. "this joke isnt funny. talk to me one time and i'll call the cops on you for what you did to their dear friend, peterkin."

god fucking damn. he was silent & still as he watched you storm back to your van & slam th edoor shut. frankly he didn't know whether to be impressed or irritated. maybe both? he genuinely did want to know you, but your attitude only made him want you more.

sunday dragged by too slowly. within what felt like hours did rafe finally appear at barry's van. he knocked too loudly which was opened by a disgruntled barry. "man, what the — oh hey country club!"

rafe barely looked at barry. he didn't even care about his new tooth. gold or silver he wasn't even looking. "you have it?"

barry inched the door slightly shut. "what you looking for? my sister told me you dropped by."

when rafe was certain you weren't in eyesight, he rubbed his nose a little too hard. "just some cocaine."

"'kay, got ya." barry kept the door open while rafe collected the cash between his fingers.

when he left, shutting the door behind him, he saw you walking towards the van, clearly gone grocery shopping. you wrinkled your lip as soon as you saw him. "what now, kook?"

"you." rafe said immediately. "it's not some twisted joke. i really do want to go out with you." when you was silent, you took it as further encouragement. "if it goes to shit, then tell every single person you want about peterkin, okay? just —" his hand clenched. "one chance."

"fine." you said eventually. "but you make me a laughing stock of your kook group then you'll end up like peterkin."

"sounds great, baby. where do you wanna go?"

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“yeah im fine. dont worry.” you typed back. a lie.

you pocket your phone, pulling your hoodie tighter around yourself. you try to make yourself shrink from the crowd.

“whos got you smiling at your phone like that?” a raspy voice came from beside you. smelling something like expensive cologne and beer.

you dont even want to share a glance at him. god. but you just know those piercing blue eyes squints at you.

“hm? you never smile like that for me.” his tone getting possessive. you step back and he follows.

“dont.”

“dont what?” his brow furrows in mock confusion. that stupid arrogant grin appearing on his face again. “im just askin’ a question. were friends, arent we?”

youve never been friends. you both know it.

your phone buzzes again. rafe’s eyes flicker down to your pocket, then back to your face. something hard settles in his jaw.

“that him? the new guy ive been hearing about?”

you stay quiet. fixing your eyes on the fire, saying nothing. if you dont engage, dont give him the reaction hes starving for, maybe he’ll be bored.

seconds pass. and rafe cameron was never patient.

his hand grabs your chin, forcing your face toward him. his blue eyes smoldered with fury.

“i asked you a question,” thick thumb pressing into your jaw. “whos the guy?”

his other hand moves quickly. before you can even react, he plucks your phone from your hoodie pocket. he holds it up, screen lighting up his face. the notification’s still there.

“r u coming over later? ;)”

rafe’s jaw tightens. teeth flashing in something thats not a smile. “the pizza boy,” he says flat. “seriously?”

“its none of your business, rafe. give it back.” struggling away from his grip on your chin as you try to reach for your phone.

a sudden sharp tug at the scalp cuts your movement. rafe angled your face upward, forcing your gaze to meet his.

you gasp, reacting from the sharp burn stinging in your scalp. tears pricking the corners of your eyes.

“you listen to me,” rafe’s voice drops, sending a shiver down your spine. he grips your scalp tighter. you squeeze your eyes shut.

“ive been watching you for months. gave you all my time—my attention. everyone here knows youre mine to mess with. my bitch.” his face scrunched up in disgust. “and you throw that away for a fucking pogue.”

did he just seriously say that? after months of making your life living hell; humiliating, mocking, harrassing, making you do all his work.. he call those attention? (well, not to mention you once form an embarrassing crush towards him. it was hard pretending he wasnt hot.)

“you think ruining my life was attention? youre insane, rafe!” you spat directly at his face, landing at his right cheek.

he lifts his hand, the one holding your phone. using his thick fingers to trace the wetness on his cheek. he stares at his wet fingertips for a second.

then, he kept his eyes locked onto you. dragging those same fingers down across his lip. he smears your spit over his mouth before opening to suck his wet fingers.

your pussy throbs watching his movement.

fuck, hes so weird?! youre very concerned about this guy.

“youve got a mouth on you, huh?” he leans closer. shoving your phone into his own pocket.

rafe hands wrap around your wrist, pulling you away from the fire, away from the party. past the coolers and beach chairs.

“rafe—”

he doesnt stop. he drags you behind a dark dune, out of sight of the party. loud music slowly fades.

he pushes you. enough for you to stumble back against the sand wall. his body caging you in. “you got with him to piss me off. you wanted me to notice, dont you?” he squeezes your hip.

you shove his chest. “get off me.” but he doesnt move back. he steps closer, fingers curling into the strings of your hoodie, tugging you forward.

“you think saying no means something to me?” his thumb traces the corner of your mouth. eyes watching the way your tits rise and fall under the hoodie. you dont miss it.

your hands press flat against his chest. but you dont shove him. you dont know why. your palms stay there, feeling the heat of him.

you hate that your breath hitches when his hand slides higher on your thigh.

or that your lips part.

or that a quiet, shameful voice at the back of your head whispers finally.

rafe catches everything. his eyes flicker down to where your hands rest, then back to your face. a slow smile spreads across him.

“youve been thinking about this.” his hand leave your thigh. rough palm squeezing on your waist.

“tell me im wrong.”

your throat is dry. heart hammering so loud. you should push him away. you should scream, someone would hear. but your hands stay on his chest, fingers holding into the fabric of his polo. your breathing shallow.

rafe reads the answer in your silence.

his hand tangles in your hair, tugging your head back. mouth crashing against yours, rough and demanding. his tongue slides inside. a sound escapes your throat.

he bit your lower lip before breaking the kiss. his breath ragged. he pushed your head down roughly until your knees hit the sand. you let him do whatever he wants with you.

his other hand moves to his belt, working the buckle loose. rafe looks down at you with raw desperation.

his jeans are undone. he pulls himself out. heavy and already hard. your breath catches the sight of him. the thickness of it, the veins, and pink tip flushing. he wraps his hand around himself.

he drags the tip across your lower lip, smearing the precum. “open.” he taps the tip to your lips.

your lips part, the tip of him presses past them. your breath hitches through your nose. your fingers digging to the denim of his thighs.

“fuck.” he mutters low. his hand not leaving your hair. it tightens.

you take him deeper, tongue curling around the underside of him. clumsy. you whimper in embarrassment, the vibration makes his hips jerk forward. pushing himself further into your mouth. saliva pooling at the corners of your mouth. you hate that your thighs are pressing together.

you look at him through your lashes. his head tipped back throat exposed, with adam’s apple bobbing. eyes half lidded full of lust. broad chest heaving and his abs clenching.

“been running that mouth for months. bout time you put it to good use.” he grinds against your tongue, using your mouth like youre nothing but a hole for him. watching the way your lips stretched. he yanks your hair forward until your throat’s full of his fat cock.

your hand slides down to between your legs. youre pathetically wet. a dark spot forms through the fabric. you press your fingers and rub yourself, applying pressure.

“yeah,” his voice rough. “touching yourself while you suck me off?”

he lifts you up by the arm, spinning you around and pushing you forward. your palms hit the sand dune. youre bent over. so desperate, you press your ass back against his dick.

“grindin’ back against my cock like a bitch in heat.” he grabs a fistful of your hair, yanking your head back. he pulled your shorts down your thighs. hooking your underwear to the side. wet cunt exposed to the cold air now.

“look at that,” he breathes. his thick fingers dragging through your slick folds. “barely touched you and youre already dripping down your thighs.” he slaps your pussy lightly. a sharp sting that makes you jolt. yet, it gets you wetter.

his ring finger pushes inside you. your hips roll against his hand. the movement drives his finger deeper. you moan, muffled by the sand.

middle and index fingers pushes into you. stretching your cunt. you feel the coldness of his gold ring pressing against your pussy lips. he pumps them slow at first, watching and feeling the way your body clenches around him.

“thats it,” his other hand kneads the fat of your ass. “take it.” his fingers curl inside you, searching. and when they find that spot, you moan louder. he pumps his fingers fast and ruthless. creating a squelch-squelch sound.

his thumb pressing against your clit in tight circles. your legs tremble, toes curling. breath coming in short gasps. your hips pushing back. the pressure builds low in your belly. you were so close.

he pulls his fingers out. you whine at the loss.

“you dont get to cum yet. thats for my cock.”

his fingers are slick with the juices from your pussy. he moved them closer to your face from behind. pressing against your lips. you part your lips, he roughly pushes his fingers inside your mouth. making you lick his fingers clean and sucking them.

he pulls his hands out of your mouth. without realizing, theyre already on your hips. you feel the head of his cock pressing against your soaked entrance. he drags it to your folds, teasing. and smearing your wetness.

“just fuck me already.”

you feel a cocky grin coming out of his words, “you that greedy?”

a wet glob lands on your asshole—his spit, vulgar. it slides slow, trailing over your hole, seeping down to mix with your own wet cunt.

he pushes in, one slow inch. then another. the stretch is sharper this time. fuller and wetter. he spread you open inch by inch. your fingers claw at the sand, “r-rafe..”

“feel that? feel how deep i am?” he stays there for a bit. letting you adjust at the fullness of him. he pulls out slowly, almost all the way before slamming back in.

your cry is muffled by the sand. he sets a brutal pace. “look at you taking it like a fucking whore. this is my pussy now, yeah?”

his hips slap against your ass, the sound lewd. you arch your back even more. his eyes never leaving the way your ass bounces off him. he leans closer, until his chest pressing against your back.

“gonna fill you up. ill make sure my cum’s dripping outta you when youre sitting on his lap.” his breath hot against your ear.

he slides his hand around your hip, thick fingers rubbing your clit in circles. he continues his rhythm, angling his body slightly to fuck your deeper.

“o-oh.. fuck! r-rwafe..” you babble, completely cockdrunk.

“cum on my cock now.”

waves of pleasure washed over you. all the air leaving your lungs. your knees shaking. he follows a second later, groaning. his hip stuttering as hot cum spills inside of your pussy.

he slowly softens inside you. he pulls out, the thickness of him felt empty now. his cum drips down your thigh.

neither of you speaks.

and the reality hits you. you cheated. with your bully. after all talking shit about rafe to your boyfriend’s face.

you pushed off the dune after several seconds. getting rid of the hair that sticks to your sweaty face. your fingers tremble. what are you gonna say to your dearest boyfriend after this?

he steps back, doing his belt and zipping his pants. you pulled your panties up, followed with your shorts. but it feels weird, cause your folds are sticky with his cum and the wetness from you earlier.

“youre gonna go back to him, act like this didnt happen.”

“i—” your voice cracks. “i dont know what im gonna do..” you clear your throat. you can barely make eye contact with him.

“keep it a secret.” he steps closer. staring down at you so intensely. the sharp cologne of him making your head haze.

just then, he walks past you. acting like nothing happened. but he looks back. “you know where to find me when you want more.”

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