Behind the psycho || Rafe Cameron x Reader || OBX fanfic

thirty 🦋

YOU GUYS DON'T EVEN DARE READ THIS CHAPTER WITHOUT LISTENING TO WEST COAST ON LOOP. I PROMISE YOU. IT'S AN EXPERIENCE. 

DON'T EVEN PLAY WITH ME—BOTH HANDS ON THE PHONE.

STEAM AHEAD !! 🚂

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"Fuck," I swore as the ball I had nailed went to the side. 

Rafe chuckled quietly before moving next to me, angling himself across the table, sharply hitting one sphere and which set out a chain of events that pushed two balls into their pocket. 

He obviously had been playing a lot more than I ever had. 

I wasn't afraid of losing, I was just afraid of what he was going to make me do.

His blue eyes gleamed as he watched me stretch, struggling to catch up to his score. "You know I could watch you do that forever, right?" He was trying to distract me, I knew.

"You're gonna wish you didn't say that when I win." I straightened with a smile as I saw two of the balls roll into their distinct pouches. 

Rafe made his way next to me again, running a warm hand under my sweater, across my back, before letting it fall. I shivered. "Oh, yeah?" I looked up at him, his face dripping with confidence, his eyes, dark. As he lay down, his shirt spiked up, giving a peek of his golden-brown skin, just under the hem. It was as if time became slow as his strained arm stretched with the cue, his hair wobbling slightly before he hit the white ball. He raised with a smirk. I turned over to the pool table and saw how easily the ball knocked on the walls, angled perfectly, then forced two down a drain, and finally headed for the black one—cleanly rolled down the hole. 

I gripped my cue tightly, anticipating his request. I hadn't even specified the limits. He could make me do anything. I honestly hadn't thought him to be this good at the game. 

"You winning, huh?" he murmured. Rafe walked around the table, towards where the cue stand was. I followed him and placed my cue vertically. "Anything I want?" 

Fuck me.

His hand found my jaw and the other one crept up my sweater, slowly pulling it up. I gazed at him, the blue of his eyes swirling with desire. "I thought you said you were gonna win," he whispered right in front of my mouth. My heart was fluttering like a damn bird. It wasn't his lips that kissed me, but his breath and I finally understood what he wanted—he wanted to tease me.

He gently pressed me to the pool table, his hand wandering dangerously on my waist. "That was before I learned how good you were at this game," I whispered back and looped my hands around his neck, staring anxiously at him. "Before I knew how you planned to win." 

He smiled and looked down at my neck, pressing his flat hand on my bare back. "Good girl."

I tilted my head up just as he kissed my collarbone as if he completely flared up my whole body. It was like fire burning under my skin. "Fuck," I barely said, but he obviously heard it. I felt him smile as he placed his lips on the hollow under my throat. His hands generously searched my back before gliding to my front, running across the goosebumps on my skin. I was being completely toyed with—I hated it but it made me feel alive.

His mouth didn't stop at my collar, it moved up once it was done, moving up like backwards flowing water. Pressing gently, then painfully everywhere on my neck, making me curl my hands, unsure what to do with them. His hands gave me mixed sensations of hot and cold as his rings stroked my body. I just wanted him to kiss me, to do something other than tease me. 

"I wanted to do something else," he said from my neck, where I felt his soft lips graze. "But I think I got carried away." As he said that, his hands glided higher and higher under my sweater. I almost couldn't breathe.