Rafe Oneshot - Tumblr Posts

"Good Girls Are Bad Girls" - Fratboy!Rafe Cameron x Reader

a/n: thank you to @aemondsbabe for helping me with my questions on sorority and frat culture LMFAO 🩷

Summary: When Rafe meets one of Tri Delta's new sisters, he knows he's found the one.

Word Count: 5,000

Rating: 18+, MDNI

TW: afab reader, she/her pronouns, profanity, innuendo, slight age gap (18 and 22), rafe creeping, corruption kink, innocence kink, some stalking, semi public fingering, oral f receiving, spit kink, degradation, praise kink, overstim, loss of virginity, p in v sex, unprotected sex, size kink, tummy bulge, creampie, pussy slapping, honestly i might've forgotten something this was a lot, mentions of alcohol consumption/frat culture

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Outer Banks characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷

You want to curse your past self for forgetting to set an alarm this morning. You’re the type to sit at the back of the lecture hall, where no one pays attention to you. You like taking your notes, doing your work, and leaving without a fuss. That’s how you’ve managed to get through your first semester of college so far. But today? Today, everything’s changed.

Your usual seat - and in fact all the seats in the back row - are taken, leaving only one up front. You can feel your heartbeat pounding in your chest as you make your way down the stairs, taking the only empty seat that’s left. Luckily, you don’t have to climb over any of your classmates to get to it. That would’ve been even more humiliating. Instead, you just sit down, pull your notebook out of your backpack, and set up your things for the lecture.

For every action, there’s an equal and opposite reaction. So, while you might have been cursing yourself for this little mishap, someone else was counting their lucky stars that you couldn’t take your usual seat at the back of the room. That someone else being none other than Rafe Cameron. The president of the Beta Theta Pi fraternity. Unofficial king of the campus.

Rafe can hardly believe his luck when he glances back at the sound of the door opening and sees you. You look so skittish, almost like a spooked fawn, as you make your way toward the empty seat beside him. Rafe leans over to ask Topper if he knows who you are. Topper’s gaze falls on you and he gives you an appreciative once-over before informing Rafe that he does not in fact know you. Rafe can’t stop staring at you, his gaze hooded as he watches you ready yourself for class, angling his body toward you. 

He scoots in close, murmuring, “New transfer?”

You shake your head, your voice soft and sweet as you reply, “Oh, um, no. I’m a freshman actually. I just usually sit in the back.”

“Oh,” he chuckles, leaning in even closer, his arm resting on the back of your chair, thigh pressed against yours, “You’re fresh meat then.”

“I, um, I guess,” you reply, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you continue focusing on your notes, organizing them for class and avoiding eye contact with the boy beside you.

If Rafe notices this, he doesn’t care, instead whispering against your ear, “My name’s Rafe. And you are…?”

You tell him your name, barely audible, barely above a whisper, not wanting to draw unnecessary attention to yourself. Rafe notices. He’s noticed every little thing about you in the short time you’ve been seated beside him. You don’t seem particularly comfortable around him. And a sick, twisted little part of him like that.

“What’s your major?”

“Dance,” you reply quietly, sliding down in your seat slightly in an effort to create some distance between the two of you.

“Oh, so you’re a dancer,” Rafe repeats, his voice laden with suggestive undertones as his eyes travel the expanse of your body. Though the professor enters the room and you do your best to ignore Rafe, he has no intention of paying attention to class. Only to you. His breath tickles your neck as he whispers, “What type of dance do you do?”

“Ballet,” you tell him, doing your best not to shiver at the way he’s pressed himself up against you.

“Ballet, huh? You know, you don’t look like a ballerina.”

Now he has your attention. He has you exactly where he wants you. Rafe inhales the scent of your body wash - vanilla and sugar, he thinks - as you look at him, brow furrowed in confusion.

“I don’t?”

“Your body,” he pauses, gaze lingering on your cleavage for a moment too long as he admires you, “It’s too… Soft.”

You look so adorably confused as you tilt your head and repeat, “Soft?”

“Mhm,” Rafe’s lips brush against the shell of your ear as he whispers, “Most ballerinas I’ve seen don’t have the softness you do. The curves.”

A wounded expression flashes across your face, “Are you making fun of me?”

He shakes his head, chuckling slightly, “No, sweetheart. I’m just saying I think your body is more suited for… Other things.”

Rafe decides to let you be for the rest of class, watching as your fingers dance across the page, holding your fuzzy pink pen. He watches as you tap it to your lips every so often when deep in thought, his breath growing more and more shallow with each passing moment. His thoughts are consumed entirely by you. Your delicate hands, those round tits, those doe eyes. He has to have you. It’s not a want at this point. It’s a need.

When class finally comes to an end, you seem eager to get away from him, shoving your things in your bag. He eyes your thighs, or what’s visible of them under the hem of the little plaid skirt you’re wearing, those knee socks squeezing your soft flesh. Rafe licks his lips, watching the way your pert little ass sways in the skirt, following after you as you leave the classroom. Before you can make it too far, he grabs you by the arm gently, a grin on his face.

“Where’re you going so fast?”

You startle at the sound of his voice, like a deer in headlights, “Oh, um, just to my next lecture.”

“You’re so quiet,” he teases, watching you fiddle with the straps of your backpack, twisting from side to side nervously, “The quiet ones are always secretly the craziest. Anyway, I’ll walk you.”

“Y-you don’t have to-”

“Oh, I insist,” Rafe falls into step beside you, getting a nice little glance down your v-neck sweater from his vantage point, the subtle bounce of your breasts making his cock go rock-hard in his jeans, “So, you must be pretty flexible, huh?”

“Oh, um, I guess so. For ballet, you kind of have to be.”

You’re so damn shy. He loves it. So fucking innocent. All he can think about is how he’s going to make you his, corrupt you entirely. Taint that sweet naivete of yours beyond all repair. It’s going to be so fucking delicious that it has his mouth watering at the thought alone.

“You’re in Beta, right?”

He’s surprised that you’ve managed to eke out a question, but grins and nods, giving you a little wink, “I am. I’m the president, as a matter of fact. How’d you know?”

“You know a few of my sisters,” you explain, “I’m in Tri Delta.”

Rafe’s brows nearly fly into his hairline at the revelation. A Tri Delta girl? How come he’s only just now meeting you? He thought he’d managed to fuck his way through that entire house, and yet here you are, looking up at him with those sweet innocent eyes, shying away the moment he so much as smiles at you.

“How come I’ve never seen you before today?”

“I don’t usually go to parties,” you explain, “I help set up and then hang out in my room.”

“That’s adorable,” Rafe coos almost mockingly, “A pretty little wallflower, huh? I bet you’re such a good girl. Straight A student, gets to class on time.”

“I,” you falter slightly, making his grin widen, “I do okay…”

You hug your textbook to your chest, the sight of which just confirms his suspicions as you shift your weight from foot to foot, “I bet you’re such a good girl too,” he murmurs, “Have you ever done anything naughty, Princess? I bet you haven’t.”

“Not really,” you admit, pausing in front of the lecture hall, “This is me. Thank you for walking me. It was nice meeting you.”

“You trying to get away from me?” Rafe teases, his blue eyes boring into you.

“No, I just have class…”

Rafe chuckles, nodding, “Yeah, I’m just kidding. See ya around, Princess.”

He watches you, the graceful sway of your hips, those legs, that ass of yours. He’s fucking hooked. He needs to know more about you.

Rafe needs to know everything about you.

He learns that you’re a legacy, your mom having been a Tri Delta sister. You come from old money, your family living back in California. You seem to have come out to the east coast to break away from the sheltered life you’ve led. Attended an all girls school - no wonder you’re so jumpy around him. It’s so fucking cute. Your mother is a doctor, he learns, and your father is a hotelier, owning one of the most famous, luxurious hotel chains in the world. You’re a Kook if he’s ever seen one. A perfect match for him.

Topper finds out that you practice from six to eight in the dance studio on campus every day, information he relays to Rafe without delay. And so tonight? Rafe watches as you enter the studio, removing your jacket and warm up pants, revealing the pale pink leotard and tights you have on underneath. The way the fabric clings to you - to every curve, every soft bit of flesh - it’s almost impossible for him to stand there and do nothing. You don’t notice him at first, continuing in your stretching at the barre. The way you move is so effortlessly graceful and so sensuous at the same time. Watching you twist your body into all these positions, the sight of your leotard squeezing and digging in all the right places. God, he doesn’t think he’s ever been this hard in his life.

Rafe’s throat goes dry as he watches you, the song you’re dancing to being vaguely familiar to him. He thinks it might be from the Nutcracker. All he can think of as you dance around the room, your hair tumbling free from the bun you’d tied it in, is that you’re perfect. Everything he’s ever wanted. His first impression was right. You’re so soft, so pliant. He eyes each of your supple curves with ravenous desire, barely resisting the urge to barge into the studio and fuck you up against the wall.

He stays there, silently watching you practice, sweat dripping down your face as you work yourself to the point of exhaustion. You’re stumbling now, making a few mistakes, but all that does is endear you to him even more. The little pout on your face as you keep trying to get your fouette perfect. It’s so goddamn enticing.

Rafe claps when you’re finished, startling you slightly. You give him a shy wave as you undo your pointe shoes and pull on your warm ups over your clothes, feeling a bit self conscious around him. He notices your sudden shyness and takes advantage of it, walking inside and leaning on the barre beside you.

“Was just passing through the building and saw you,” he lies, “I could watch you dance all night long. How long you been doing it for?”

“Since I was a kid,” your voice is so meek and timid, it has him wanting to see what other little noises he can pull from those soft lips.

“Any chance I can see you perform?”

“If you want,” you pause, “I’m in the Nutcracker. As one of the snow fairies. Freshmen usually don’t get lead roles, just ensemble, but I’m in it a bit.”

“I’m sold,” Rafe grins, a hand resting on your lower back as the two of you leave the studio, “When is it?”

“The Friday before winter break.”

Two weeks from now. Rafe grins, excitement in his voice, something that has you biting back a smile. He can see how happy you are that someone wants to come specifically for you. And so, he gives your waist a little squeeze, making you gasp softly.

“I’ll be there. But the real question is,” he stops in his tracks, leading you to stop as well, “Can I see you before then? Or are you gonna make me wait two weeks?”

“I… But you’re a senior,” your voice is so uncertain it nearly tugs at his heartstrings, “And I’m just a freshman…”

Rafe smirks at you, “And that matters why? All I need to know is if I can see you before you perform, cuz,” he runs his thumb softly along your jawline, enjoying the way you fluster at his touch, “I can’t wait that long.”

You blink owlishly, surprised at this, but not at all unhappy, “You can… If you want.”

“I’m gonna hold you to that.” The two of you arrive at the Tri Delta house, and Rafe leans in close. You gaze up at him with those innocent eyes of yours, his heart nearly melting at the adorable sight, “Tomorrow night. Six PM. I’ll pick you up from here. How’s that sound, princess?” When you nod in agreement, Rafe all but purrs, “Good girl.”

He sees the way your breath catches in your throat. You like to be praised. You want to be his good girl. Rafe’s going to remember that.You shift your weight from foot to foot, thanking him for walking you. Rafe decides to get a little bolder and leans in.

“How about a kiss as a thank you?”

Rafe wants you flustered. He wants that look on your face you have right now, lips parted as you try to figure out whether or not he’s serious. He just stands there, waiting expectantly, and you realize he most certainly was. You’ve never done anything like this before, so you hesitate for a long moment before leaning forward and brushing your lips against his cheek before dashing off into the safety of the house, away from him, blurting out a quick “goodnight” as you go.

He stands there, pressing his hand to his cheek.

You little fucking tease.

He’s going to get so much more than a kiss on the cheek from you tomorrow. He’s going to have his lips on yours. And then? On so many other places.

Rafe decides to sit with you in the back row today. You’re surprised to see a backpack resting on your usual chair, Rafe in the one beside it. He gives you a lazy smile, one that has your stomach filling with butterflies, and moves his backpack, patting the seat beside him. You make your way on shaky legs, setting your things down and preparing for class. He looks good. You can’t deny it, even with that ridiculous snapback, sitting backwards on his head. Somehow, he makes it look attractive.

He likes what he sees as he takes in your outfit as well. That plaid skirt that sits snug around your hips, hitting your mid-thigh, the innocence of your lacy socks paired with Mary Jane shoes, and the sweater you’ve matched it all with. The perfect innocent school girl, ripe for the taking. It’s like every sordid little fantasy he had as a teenager has come true, and you’re at the center of all of them.

“What’s up cutie?” Rafe asks, his thigh pressed up against yours, “You sleep good?”

“Mhm,” you say quietly, giving him a small smile.

“That skirt looks really good on you.”

His gaze is hungry as he takes in the exposed flesh of your thighs, biting back a laugh as you stutter out, “Thank you. Y-you look nice too.”

“Aw, thanks, Princess. Are you excited for our date?” He continues talking, “I’m taking you to this great steak place. You’re gonna love it.”

“Sounds good.”

You try to pay attention to the lecture. You really do. You’ve always been a straight A student and intend on remaining one, especially with finals only two weeks away. But when Rafe rests his hand on your thigh, just where your skirt ends and squeezes your soft flesh, his large, calloused palm caressing your skin? You don’t really care about whatever the professor is rattling on about. This is far more interesting.

Rafe loves how soft you are to the touch, your smooth, warm skin. His cock strains against his pants as he moves his hand higher and higher, reveling in the breathy gasp you let out when his fingers skim over the fabric of your underwear. 

You cover your mouth, teeth sinking into your lower lip, “R-Rafe, we’re in class…”

It’s such an adorable fucking reaction. Watching Little Miss Innocent lose her composure, the way you seem to be against this and yet, you make no move to get away. He caresses your mound over the fabric of your panties, leaning in and whispering in your ear.

“We’re in the back row, baby. Just relax. Daddy’s got you.”

You cover your mouth as he presses his fingers against you, a grin spreading across his face at the fact that he’s already got you dripping for him. He moves your panties aside, pushing two fingers inside your wet cunt. You’ve never really felt the urge to touch yourself before, but now, with him fucking you with his fingers? You wonder if you’re ever going to be able to last a day without doing so. He pumps his fingers faster and faster, burying them knuckle deep inside you, turning your face so that you keep those big doe eyes on him. He watches the way your lashes flutter, your breath quickens, knowing you’re almost there. Virgins like you get wet so fucking easily, but there’s something even more enticing about you than any before.

“Good girl,” he whispers, “You’re being such a good girl for me.”

Your eyes close, white hot pleasure ripping through your body, and you disguise the moan you let out as a cough, something that has Rafe snickering to himself. He brings his fingers to his lips, licking them clean. And you just watch, lips parted, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. After the class empties out, he brings his fingers to your lips next, pushing them inside your mouth. Realizing what he wants, you close your lips around them, suckling slightly.

“That’s it, baby. hope you’re ready for tonight. Because this is just the beginning of what I have in store for you.”

Rafe waits for you outside Tri Delta at six, drumming his fingers against his steering wheel. He gets out and begins to walk to the door, ready to knock and deal with whichever sorority sister answers, but before his knuckles can wrap on the wood, the door opens to reveal you. Standing there with your hair down, wearing a little pink dress and white kitten heels, a white purse in your hands that looks too tiny to carry anything. Your lips are coated in a pretty pink lip gloss that he can’t wait to taste.

“Hi,” you say, smiling up at him in that adorably shy way you do, “I hope you weren’t waiting too long.”

“No, baby,” he chuckles, moving to rest a hand on your hip, squeezing, “You’re right on time. And looking fucking incredible.”

He takes your hand, so soft and small and warm in his, leading you to his car. He can tell you’re a Kook from the way you don’t balk at the fact he’s driving a Porsche. You just let him open the door and help you in, thanking him. Rafe’s hand rests on your thigh once again as the two of you drive to the restaurant, the sight of which reminds you of what happened earlier in class. You press your thighs together, the low vibration of the car driving along the road making your stomach turn in a way that isn’t entirely unpleasant as you squirm in your seat.

“You look beautiful,” Rafe murmurs, moving his hand to brush the back of it along your cheek, his touch sending a jolt through you, “My good little girl. I almost don’t wanna ruin that pretty dress you’re wearing.”

“Ruin…?”

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, baby.”

Rafe is pleased at how well you fit in at the fancy steakhouse he takes you to. Topper was right. You do come from old money. He watches as you eat, as you talk to him, so very gracefully. Everything you do, every little thing, makes him want you more. He sits with his chin resting on his hand, gazing at you intently as you tell him about your family, your time at your all girls’ school. And for the first time, Rafe realizes that it’s nice to actually talk to the girl he’s into. To connect with her. He doesn’t talk about himself much that night, wanting to make you feel comfortable so that you’ll let him walk you back up to your room after dinner.

Because tonight, he’s going to make you his.

You do indeed let Rafe walk you to your room when he asks. You ignore the jealous looks some of the girls give you and the knowing looks from the others. Rafe knows what they’re thinking. That you’re just another in his long line of conquests. They don’t know that you’re so much more to him than that.

He closes the door behind the two of you when you enter your room, glancing around, smiling to himself at how it’s so very you, from the pink fuzzy blanket to the little unicorn plushie sitting in the center of your bed.

Rafe moves to sit on your bed, pulling you into his lap. You stumble forward, your hands resting against his chest to steady yourself. You look at him, so hesitant, so uncertain, and Rafe knows that you want him to kiss you, but you don’t quite know how to ask. So, he leans in slowly and presses a kiss to your lips, making you gasp, allowing him to explore your mouth with his tongue, letting it move against yours, slow and yet so very heated. He pulls you closer to him by the waist, running a hand up under the back of your dress, moving his hand upward to squeeze the soft flesh of your ass slightly, making you let out a quiet whimper.

“You make such cute little noises. Wanna hear some more. And you taste so sweet,” he mumbles between kisses, “Fuck, baby, you’re adorable.”

Your breath catches in your throat as you look up at him through your eyelashes, “You mean you like me? Like you like me like me?”

“Baby, of course I like you, how could I not?” Rafe coos, peppering kisses along your jaw and down your neck, “Thought I made it obvious. I want you. No one else in the entire fuckin’ world would do, baby. Only you. Want you so fuckin’ bad it hurts.”

You mewl with pleasure as he bites down on the junction between your neck and shoulders, “Oh my God, Rafe, please-“

“Please what?” He smirks, moving his hand to stroke you over your panties, “Huh?”

As Rafe slides his hand under the hem of your dress, caressing you over your panties, you can’t help but whine his name again. The sound is so sweet, so intoxicating, that it has him moaning and pulling you back into another sloppy, wet, heated kiss, his mouth devouring your own. His other hand twists in your hair, making you moan at the slight pain, but also? From how fucking good it feels.

“God, baby, I think I’m just gonna have to keep you forever. You good with that? Huh, baby?”

All you can do is nod dumbly as he continues kissing up the side of your neck, “Something wrong, baby?”

“N-no,” you stutter as he moves to flip you over so you’re beneath him on the bed.

He tugs at your dress, pulling it over your head, his mouth going dry at the sight of your tits straining against your pink lacy bra and panties. He kisses the soft skin above the fabric of your bra, his mouth hot against you, moving down further and further until he reaches the apex between your thighs.

“Rafe? What’re you doing?”

“I just want to make you feel good,” Rafe promises, mouthing at you over your panties, loving the way you shiver at his touch, “Yeah, baby.”

You nod timidly, “O-okay. I trust you, Rafe.”

“Lay back, sweetheart,” he mumbles, stroking you over your panties and pressing down a bit harder against your clit, grinning at the way you moan, “Daddy’s gonna take good care of his baby girl.”

“One of the girls could hear us-“

“So?” he questions, sliding your panties down your legs and stuffing them into his back pocket, “Let them, Let them hear you scream my name while I eat your sweet little pussy for hours.”

“Rafe,” you whimper as he gave a quick lick against your wet cunt, “Oh my God, it feels so weird-“

“Good weird?” he questions, running a finger over you.

“Yes, oh my God, it’s, like, I… Please do something!”

“Use your words, baby girl,” he teases, lining his face up with your core, “Say ‘please eat my wet little virgin pussy, Daddy’.” You let out a cry as he nips at your thigh, “Sometime today, baby.”

“Please eat my wet little virgin pussy, Daddy,” you all but scream, “Please, please, please!”

Rafe looks up at you with a grin to rival the devil himself, “Since you asked so nicely.”

He spits on you, the cool feeling of his saliva hitting your core making you shiver, before diving in wholeheartedly with his tongue. He laps at your slick folds eagerly, like he’s a starving man and you’re a drop of water in the desert. You thrash against the bed, mumbling incoherently. The only words he can make out are “good”, “Rafe”, and “Daddy”. He grazes his teeth against your swollen pearl, making your entire body seize as you cry out.

“Oh my God, Rafe, yes! Oh God, you feel so good, oh my God!”

Rafe continues lapping at you, his tongue moving at a relentless pace, making you squeal as he nuzzles his nose against your clit.

He pulls back for a moment, “You’re so cute like this. So small and helpless. You’re gonna be a perfect little slut just for me, aren’t you, princess?” Rafe slaps your pussy when you don’t respond, making you jolt with surprise at how fucking good it feels, his palm hitting your clit, “Come on, my pretty little slut, answer when your daddy asks a question.”

“Yes, Daddy, I’m your slut,” you whine, arching your back, “Oh my God, faster please!”

“Anything for my baby girl.”

He rubs you faster and faster while lapping at your pussy, leaving a sloppy open-mouthed kiss against it, the slurping noises he makes, the moans he lets out sounding so obscene. But you just lay there, staring at him, eyes locked on his as you come with a scream of his name. But he’s not even close to done. He continues mouthing at your folds sloppily, greedily, tongue fucking you like his life depends on it. Your entire body quivers at the feeling, twitching as you grasp at the sheets, desperate for purchase as he rips another climax from your body, then a third.

Your arousal glistens against Rafe’s chin and he moves up your body to kiss you, making you taste yourself on his tongue.

“You taste so fuckin’ good, baby,” he murmurs, biting your lower lip, “Gonna have you for dessert everyday. You liked that, didn’t you? Me treating you like my own personal whore?”

You whimper as he squeezes your ass with one hand, moving the other up to your mouth to force it open, “Rafe?”

“Keep that mouth open, baby,” he mumbles, spitting onto your tongue, “Swallow that for me.” You quickly follow his instructions, earning a pleased smile from him. “Show me your tongue. Wanna see that you swallowed,” he orders, to which you oblige without hesitation, showing him your tongue, “Fuck, baby, you’re such a good girl.”

Rafe unbuttons the dress shirt he wore to dinner, revealing his toned chest, his abs, tossing it aside, moving to his pants next, making quick work of them and his boxers, his cock rock hard, swaying slightly, pre cum dripping from the tip. He gives himself a few quick tugs before slapping the head of his cock against your clit, loving the way your entire body twitches. He pushes inside you, just the tip at first, slowly, inch by inch, until he bottoms out inside of you.

You always thought your first time would hurt, but with how wet Rafe made you after eating you out for so long, it’s just a slight sting and then, it’s gone, giving way to the strangest, most pleasurable sensation you’ve ever known. He fills you up with every thrust of his hips, lifting your legs to hike them around his waist, allowing him to fuck you harder, deeper. You can feel every bit of him as he ruts into you, slow at first, but then faster and faster. Rafe is mesmerized by the sight of your face, your tits bouncing as he moves to take one of your nipples into his mouth. He grabs your hips, pounding into you over and over and over again, hitting that rough patch deep inside you, loving the mewl of his name you let out as you soak his cock.

But he’s not done with you. He continues fucking you, even as your pussy grips him so hard that he can hardly move, even as you squirm against him, your overstimulated body barely able to handle what he’s giving you.

When he finally spills himself deep inside of your pussy, he collapses beside you, pulling you into his arms, his lips pressing against your neck. You cuddle up against him, falling asleep almost immediately.

And it’s while you’re snoring softly that he remembers something Topper said a few weeks back.

Something that he now knows to be very true.

“Good girls are bad girls who haven’t been caught.”