pov: frat boy!rafe fucking reader at a party
cw: strong language, sexual content, substance abuse, dubcon?idk, reader is kinda needy, praise kink maybe?, slight angst??? dirty talk, slight spanking MDNI
a/n: so i’ve never ACTUALLY been to a frat party and I am ALSO a virgin. so if anything is wrong… just suspend ur disbelief pls. I dont write often so if anyone has any feedback I would love to hear it!!!! This is NOT proofread so idk if it will all make sense and I lowkey feel like theres too much dialogue but I literally imagine everything like a film in my head so… sorry 😣
word count: 4.0k
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You came into the party with your girls, each of you glittering in gold and silver like disco balls. Travis Scott was blaring through the speakers, muffling the noises of college kids slurping face.
“You look hot as fuck, y/n,” your friend, Taylor, shouted over the music as you all walked in, struggling past already inebriated people spilling beer out of red solo cups over the floor of the house. You were glad as hell this wasn’t your house.
“You think so?” You smiled, a little twinkle in your eye.
You’d be lying if you said you dressed entirely for you. Sure, you loved the little sequin dress you had on, but you were hoping someone else would like it more. You and Rafe had a little thing going on for the last month. You’d hooked up a couple times, flirty texts and pictures but never labelling anything. You knew what kind of guy Rafe was, a playboy, a fuckboy, a total heartbreaker. He had a reputation on Kildare Island and it wasn’t a necessarily good or wholesome one. But fuck, you wanted him and his stupid charming face. And biceps. You didn’t wanna just be one of his hookup girls like tens of others. You wanted more, but you didn’t wanna seem stupid. So, this was the bait to get him to crack.
“I know so, babe,” your friend grinned. “Is it for… a certain someone?” She smirked, nodding towards Rafe in the centre of the room, downing a Corona.
Screw rose-tinted, you had rose-blinding glasses on - your eyes practically turning into hearts like some old-school cartoon character. It was debasing but you couldn’t help it. You were so into him. His jaw worked to swallow down the beer, his adam’s apple moving up and down as he laughed with his friends, some guy clapping him on the back of his polo shirt, dapping him up. He looked like a god to you, glowing with sweat and alcohol, standing there in his khaki shorts and backwards cap.
“God,” Taylor groaned, snapping you out of your trance. “You look like you’re making out with him in your head.”
“I am,” you smiled dreamily.
“He’s such an asshole, y/n. He didn’t reply to you for like 3 days straight, remember? He was probably fucking his 110th girl.”
“He replied last night!” you defended. “He helps his dad with his business, okay? You don’t have to assume the worst in everyone,” you rolled your eyes good-naturedly.
“I don’t assume the worst in everyone, I assume the worst in Rafe Cameron,” she laughed.
You didn’t even hear her, too busy watching him as he interacted with his friends.
“You’re so fucked, y/n,” she laughed. “Go on, go get your man.”
“Do I look okay?” You smoothed out your dress in front of her, before fixing your hair.
“Girl, you look like a model. He wouldn’t be able to resist you if you were wearing a trash bag.”
“Okay,” you smiled taking a breath. “Love you.”
“Go on, go get him before he runs off to some new shiny thing,” she grinned.
You quickly filled a cup with some vodka sprite, downing it before you made your way over to him.
He spotted you as soon as you began appearing in his peripheral vision, turning around with that shit-eating grin.
“Hey, there she is. My little party girl.”
“Hey,” you smiled.
“C’mon, give us a twirl,” he took your hand, spinning you around.
Your heart fluttered like a million butterflies, damn it. Him just looking at you had the same effect as having literal sex with him. It was so not okay.
“Pretty,” he smirked. “You wear this for me?”
“You wish,” you rolled your eyes. Yeah, you did. He knew that.
One of his friends came over with a plate stuffed with little glasses of tequila. “Shots!”
He grinned down at you. “You need a chaser, sweetheart?”
You wanted to kiss that fuckass smirk from his face.
You scoffed, “I’m good, thanks.”
“Whatever you say, sweetheart.”
“To getting wasted!” some guy slurred, raising the shot glass up as people around you clinked their shots.
You and Rafe raised your glasses.
“To getting wasted?”
“To getting wasted,” you smiled, both downing the shot at the same time.
You winced as the harsh tequila burned down your throat. “Eugh,”
Rafe passed you a cup of sprite, which you downed immediately.
“What’d I say?”
“Fuck off,” you smiled.
“You wanna try again?” He grinned, taking another shot for himself as he pressed one into your hands. “Prove you don’t need the chaser.”
“Bet.”
You both downed another shot, your face blushed as you smiled at him
“See? I’m a pro.”.
“You’re a seasoned alcoholic, baby,” he laughed, sitting down on the couch, his legs spread like he owned the whole fucking place. He basically did, to you.
“C’mon,” he tapped his thigh.
You smiled, sitting yourself across his lap, your mini-dress riding up to the edge of your ass. The liquid courage and the two shots began to make themselves known, your muscles loosening up and the warmth spreading through your body as you wrapped your arms around his neck.
“Missed you,” he mumbled in your ear as he played with the hem of your teasing dress. “Haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since the last time.”
“Oh yeah?” It was like music to your ears. “Why’d you ghost me then?”
“What, when?”
“Doesn’t matter,” you murmured. You didn’t wanna seem desperate.
“You look like a fucking snack, y/n.”
“I know. You don’t look too bad yourself,” you grinned. Understatement of the fucking year. You had to give yourself some credit, you were doing a good job at keeping the extent of your desire shoved down. At least you thought you were.
He pulled the cap off his head, messily placing it on yours. His greasy ass bangs somehow fell perfectly into place.
“Hey, I got my hair done for tonight,” you chided, slipping the cap back off.
“Oh, baby, your hair’s gonna be wrecked by the end of the night anyway,” he laughed.
“Oh really? What makes you so sure?” You had to play hard to get with a guy like him.
“You.” He grinned. “You can drop the act, y/n.”
“What act?” You furrowed your brows.
“The act where you pretend you’re not dying to fuck,” he murmured into your ear.
“Has anyone ever told you you’re cocky as fuck?”
“Tell me I’m wrong then. I’ll back off.” he raised his hands in the air with a smirk. “Cause uh, I seem to remember just a couple weeks ago, y’know, you were in my bedroom. Tiny excuses of lingerie. Begging me for more.”
“Harder, Rafe, please,” he mocked, faux-moaning in your ear.
Your cheeks burned with shame, alcohol, and lust.
You pushed him back against the sofa.
“You’re such an asshole.”
“You fucking love it,” he murmured, his eyes darting from your smokey eyes to your glossed lips. You could barely see the blue of his eyes anymore. Your heart did a series of somersaults, the tequila working its magic as you let your eyes drop down to his lips.
His hand slid up your neck and it felt like it belonged there. He pulled you in, pressing his lips into yours and intoxicating you more than any drink could. It was hot, messy, wet, desperate. You were pulled briefly out of it for a second as one of his frat brothers slapped him on the back as he passed being the couch.
“Cameron, you the man,” he laughed before passing by.
Rafe just laughed back, cocky and unbreakable.
He smoothed your hair back. “I got a room upstairs for us. It’s locked, no one else is gonna be in there,” he smirked.
“You kept a room for whatever girl you’d see first?” you teased, still trying the nonchalant act.
He shrugged leaning back, his hand coming around his mouth as if wiping some invisible stain. “Nah, was waiting for you.”
You blinked, not expecting that. Rafe Cameron didn’t just want girls, he wanted you, it seemed.
“You were waiting for me?” you asked a little quieter.
“I said it once, you don’t need me to say it again,” he rolled his eyes but he was smiling.
You couldn’t help the happiness that was so visible on your face. “But i want you to say it again.”
“Fucks sake,” he mumbled. “I, Rafe Cameron, saved a room upstairs, not just for any girl, no, but for Y/N. So that I could fuck her brains out.” He enunciated every word, teasing her.
“The end ruined it,” you smiled shaking your head.
“But that’s what we’re gonna do, am i wrong?” he smirked.
You evaded an answer, because you both knew it was an instant no.
“You turned it gross when it was going so cute,” you giggled a little, already feeling more bubbly now that the drinks had time to settle.
“Oh, baby, I can fuck cute too if that’s what you want,” he laughed. “But i know you don’t like it like that,” he murmured in your ear.
You swallowed, feeling the curling heat rise up in your stomach from his words, as a montage of shots replayed in your mind. Bathroom sink. Bent over. Hair pulled. Red handprints.
You snapped out of it, eyes focusing back on his face in front of yours as he gazed into your eyes. “Let’s go,” you mumbled.
“That’s my girl,” he smirked, helping you down as you slid off his lap, lightly slapping your ass as you turned around with a faux-chiding smile.
He took your hand leading you through the crowd of wasted people dancing, you didn’t know if it was just the alcohol but it looked like people were moving out of the way as soon as his presence was near, like he was fucking Moses parting the Red Sea.
He led you upstairs. He was an upperclassman so he had his own room in the house. Pulling the keys from his pocket he quickly unlocked the door, pushing you up against it as it shut, locking itself. The force made a couple small things fall off the shelf close by.
“Oops,” you giggled, all rosy-cheeked. “Hey, what is that?”
You leaned down to see whatever it was that fell, it looked like a figurine of some kind.
“Baby, I just got you up here and you want a fucking room tour? We dont have time for that, sweetheart,” he mumbled, already pressing sloppy kisses on your neck.
Your eyes darted around the room, unable to focus on multiple things at once, his kisses and your environment. You noticed the posters on the walls in the dark lighting. A Fight Club poster, some Kanye West album (you would have to nag him about that later), a poster of Halle Berry as a Bond girl, like it was fucking 2002. You wanted to ask him all about them, you loved being in his space. You wanted him to talk about everything in his room, explain each and every little detail while you soaked it up.
“What the fuck are you looking at?” he mumbled against your neck, before pulling back to search your glassy eyes. “Are you not into this?”
“What?” Your eyes immediately focused back on his dark blue ones, boring down at you like he was concerned about the answer. “No, I’m into it,” you nodded matter of factly with your huge pupils. “A lot.”
“Is this your room? I like it,” you smiled.
“Thanks,” he muttered. “Now shut the fuck up and focus on me, not the room, you weirdo,” he grinned, pulling you in with both hands on your cheeks, kissing your lips.
“You’re so fucking hot,” he breathed against your neck as he pushed you back on the bed. You bounced slightly, giggling as you sat back on your elbows with a smug little smile, looking like a total princess. He stood at the foot of the bed, shaking his head with a smile. “You fuck me up, you know that?”
He crawled on top of you, his body caging you in completely.
“Have you been working out more?” You blinked, the question innocently slipping from your lips. You couldn’t help it, not when his biceps were right in front of you like that. You traced one of the veins popping out with your index finger. You weren’t totally out of it, but enough so to have lowered your inhibitions a shame. Though his body probably would had the same effect on you even without the alcoholic push.
He laughed with a downright evil smirk. “You said that last time,”
“Oh… maybe you just get bigger every time. One day you wont even be able to fit in the bed anymore,” you giggled, making yourself laugh with your imagination.
“I need some fucking duct tape for your mouth,” he murmured despite his laugh. “Turn over.”
You pouted. “I like seeing your face though,”
He rolled his eyes. “I meant turn over so I can unzip your dress, dummy. I wouldn’t start from behind. I’m not an asshole.”
“Oh,” you smiled, rolling onto your stomach for him, cheek smushed adorably onto his pillow. He’d never admit it, but his heart skipped a beat at the sight. You were so goddamn cute. “But you have started from behind before.” Your brows wrinkled with confusion.
He was too busy pressing kisses to your shoulder blades as he unzipped. He pulled the sparkly dress down throwing it behind him as he took a second to admire your body. He laughed, “Oh, this is slutty as fuck.”
He smirked pulling off your lace panties, though they were more like a string.
“Jesus Christ, they’re already wet too. ’N I didn’t even do anything,” he murmured, holding them up as if to examine them, before tucking them into his back pocket.
He undid the clasp of your matching bra, not before playfully slapping your ass. You couldn’t help how a slight whimper escaped your lips, your ass moving up into his touch.
“Oh you like that, yeah? Knew you do,” he smirked, turning you back over to face him as you shrugged your bra off.
Your cheeks blushed pink. “Stop teasing, rafe.”
“What, no foreplay?” he grinned.
“I don’t mean that, I just mean- you’re just sitting there like- just- looking like that and you’re not doing anything,” you huffed, your lips in a slight pout from the frustration, and the wet, hot ache between your legs.
“Looking like what?”
“Rafe!” You couldn’t take it anymore, he was so smug.
He crawled back over you, pulling his shirt off with a smirk. “Alright, alright. Don’t worry, baby, I’ll give you what you want now. Fuckin’ impatient.”
He pressed his lips onto yours with a burning, searing need, groaning against your mouth as he pulled off, scattering kisses down your jaw and your neck. You squirmed beneath his body with quick little breaths and whimpers, slightly twitching whenever his tongue ran over a sensitive spot, brows pulled up in simultaneous pleasure and frustration. you couldn’t help but let your hands roam all over his body, palms flat against his hard toned torso as if searching for something desperately. He sucked on the thin skin of your neck, licking over it before pulling back with a sparkle in his eye.
“You’re not gonna cover that shit up with makeup, yeah?”
You shook your head as you looked up at him “I won’t.”
“Good girl,” he smirked.
You hated how it made the blood rush down your body when he called you that. He kissed down the valley of your breasts. “Perfect fuckin’ tits,” he mumbled against your skin, kneading them in his big hands, thumbs brushing over your nipples, pebbling them. You looked down and fuck, the sight alone made your pussy twitch.
“Yeah?” you breathed out. You didn’t care about anything now, nothing but his hands on your skin, the pulsing need between your legs, and the desire for his pretty words in your ears.
“Yeah, fuckin’ art,” he mumbled grinning up at you. “Best rack I ever saw.”
You rolled your eyes despite the smile. He always ruined his praise, but it still made your cheeks hot.
He pressed hot, wet kisses down your stomach, leaving a burning trail all the way down to your entrance. He looked up at you with his dark gaze as he slowly inserted a finger in. “That good?”
You gasped softly, back slightly arching off the bed at his touch. “Uh huh,” you whimpered, nodding. He pushed in and out slowly, feeling your wetness coat his finger before adding another one, the sound becoming obscene.
“Oh, fuck,” you moaned with furrowed brows as he used his thumb to stroke your puffy clit.
“You’re so fucking wet,” he mumbled, eyes locked down on your pussy as his fingers quickened in pace. Your mouth fell open, chest rising up and down, “Oh god,” you whimpered, already feeling so close. To your further frustration, he pulled his fingers out of you with his award-winning smirk.
“Wh-“
“Look at this shit. Nasty fuckin’ girl. You get this wet for everyone?” He held his fingers up, grinning as strings of your lust stretched between them.
You were both mortified and so sinfully turned on right now, you could barely form words. You shook your head, catching your breath.
He held your face, the same wet fingers pressing into your cheeks, making you squeal. “Say it. Use your words, baby.”
“No, only you,” you whispered.
“That’s fuckin’ right,” he smirked.
He sat up on his knees, undoing his belt. Your hand slid down to between your legs, circling your clit softly as you watched him.
He pushed down his pants and boxers in one. You had to bite your lip so not as to moan at the sight of him, long, thick, and hard. He gave his dick a few pumps, using the precum at the tip to stroke himself.
“You want me to use the belt on you?” He raised his brows.
You squeaked slightly in protest, shaking your head. “No.”
“Then take your hand off.”
You slid your hand back on the bed as he pulled you closer by your ankles. He settled between your legs, rubbing the head between your folds teasingly before gently slapping it onto your clit with a smirk, watching you twitch helplessly.
“Rafe, c’mon,” you whined.
“What was that?”
“Rafe, please.”
“Please what, baby? I cant help you out if I don’t know what the issue is,” he said mockingly.
“Rafe!”
“What’d I say before, sweetheart? Use your?”
“Words,” you breathed out.
“So what is it you want me to do?”
He kept rubbing his dick just at your entrance, never fully pushing in.
“Please just fuck me, Ray,” you begged.
“That’s more like it,” he smirked.
He quickly pulled your legs up so that your ankles were on his shoulders, with a hand locked around of of your smooth legs and another on your stomach, he pushed into you,
“Oh, fuck,” you moaned immediately.
“So fuckin’ tight, Jesus,” he said through gritted teeth. He went slowly first, even when you wanted it so badly he knew your body wouldn’t be at the same speed as your mind. He pushed in and out of you at an agonising pace, a damp mousy blond strand falling down across his forehead.
“Fuck, look at that,” he murmured. “Fuckin’ filling you up right now.”
You followed his intense gaze, looking down at your stomach where you could see the faint outline of his cock inside you. He pressed down on the bulge with his hand as he thrusted making you moan out.
“You can go faster, Rafe,” you breathed out.
“Yeah?”
You nodded as he quickened his pace, from soft thrusts to slams, making you cry out. “Fuck, yes,” you moaned, brows pulled together.
Your tits bounced obscenely, his hand going down to gently slap one. He thrust into you harder, leaning in closer to you so that your knees were pressed to your chest as he looked down at you, his cross chain swinging back and forth. “Such a fucking whore for me, huh?”
You nodded, your head in a daze, mouth opening to say something but all that could come out was intelligible babbles.
He laughed at the sight, but he felt a strange feeling of butterflies in his stomach that he pushed down. “So cock-drunk you can’t even talk,”
“Harder, Ray,” you moaned.
“Oh, but you can say that,” he laughed. “Whatever you want, baby girl.” He practically began fucking you into the bed, eyes locked on you.
“Oh my god, fuck,” you cried out, head rolling back as he hit your cervix.
“You close?” he panted.
“Uh huh- fuck, right there, Ray.”
With his hands on either side of your head he fucked into you with a bruising pace. “You gonna come, pretty girl?”
“Mhm,” you whimpered as he thrust into you relentlessly, your wetness and his both creating an obscene ring at the base of his dick.
“Come on my cock, baby, come on,” he brought down one hand to your clit, rubbing circles around it while he fucked you.
You moaned shamelessly loud, anyone walking past the door could hear you even over the music, but you were too drunk on him to give a fuck.
“Rafe, ohmygod fuck- im gonna,” you cut yourself off with a pornstar-level moan, your back arching right off the bed as your eyes rolled back. Your pussy spasmed around him, your relief washing over you with the most intense pleasure. Feeling your walls tighten around his cock, Rafe pushed into you, buried to the hilt as he released, filling you up with his hot, wet cum.
“Jesus- fuck,” he groaned, his own eyes rolling back too as sweat glistened across his forehead. He panted over you, catching his breath before slowly pulling out, his release dripping down your thighs as he let your legs down. He dropped down onto the pillow beside you, both of you catching your breath as you stared at the ceiling.
You turned over first, your neck turning against the pillow to look at him.
“That was…”
“Fuckin’ amazing,” he finished for you, eyes still locked on the ceiling as his chest finally slowed down.
“Yeah,” you smiled.
You turned fully on your side to face him.
“Rafe?” You sat up softly, looking down at him. He looked so cute it was painful, all fucked out, sweat glittering on his skin. You just wanted to lick it right off him- What?
“Yeah?” He mumbled, making you blink back to reality.
You sat for a second before flopping back down on the bed. it was probably the wrong time to tell him how you really felt. “Nothing,” you murmured.
He didn’t say anything back, not curious about your question or lack of it. You kind of hoped he’d press you so you’d have no choice. The music made its way back to your ears, muffled behind the locked door of his room. You didn’t have to tell him how you felt right now, not when things seemed so perfect. Whether it was the alcohol, or the fucking, your eyes gently fell shut, lashes long against the apples of your cheeks. By the time Rafe has turned his head over to look at you, you were out. His brows furrowed, how the fuck did she knock herself out already?
“Y/N?” He said quietly. “…Y/N?”
He realised you wouldn’t be waking up soon unless he shook you awake, which for some reason he couldn’t bring himself to do, not when you were lying there like a little debauched doll.
He didn’t know what to do with you. He never did. He dragged a palm over his face.
“For fuck’s sake.”
