[M4F] Frat guy rails his bratty RA

You should’ve gone home for the summer. Stayed out of the drama, avoided campus entirely, and let someone else play chaperone to a half-empty dorm building. But no. You needed the paycheck.

Campus Life offered triple pay for summer RAs. Fewer residents, fewer rules, more freedom. It sounded perfect. A quiet gig where you could get ahead on fall applications and maybe breathe a little. Plus- maybe it was finally a chance to have some fun after your nonstop late night studying throughout the semester.

Best part- it was quiet.

Until the Kappa Psi boys moved in.

Housing called it a “temporary reassignment.” Apparently their house was being tented or remodeled or something vague that clearly translated to: someone with money made a phone call. And just like that, the quiet dorm building became polluted with frat guys, one assigned to each floor.

At the center of it all- and conveniently assigned to your floor?

Edd. Edward Harrison.

You’ve seen his name on flyers and tagged in Instagram stories that somehow all look like magazine ads. You’d never spoken to him until this summer, but you’d clocked him before. Always laughing with the kind of easy confidence that can’t be taught. He wore linen like it was weather-appropriate and had this way of talking that made you feel like you were the one interrupting him, even when he’d just wandered into your space.

He’s everything you’re not.

You’ve had to earn every inch of ground under your feet. Scholarships. Applications. Work-study. You read the fine print on job contracts, stay up on weekends immersed in your kindle, and triple-check expiration dates on milk. Your whole life has been precision, intention, and making things work before they fall apart.

Edd, on the other hand, seems like he’s never had to try at anything. His life feels designed for him, like someone laid out a series of velvet ropes and all he had to do was walk forward. He says things like “no stress” and “we’ll figure it out” and somehow things do just figure themselves out for him. It’s infuriating.

So when he knocked on your door tonight, flashing that easy smile and leaning in like you were already on the same page, you knew something was up.

“We’re doing this little charity event,” he said, eyes bright like it was actually a good idea. “Supposed to be pretty chill. Few raffle prizes. Some brand sponsor. Music. All above board.”

You raised an eyebrow. “At your house?”

“Of course. We have permission to use it just for tonight.” He looked amused, like he expected the question and still didn’t care. “It’s tradition.”

The flyer said it was a charity fundraiser. A portion of proceeds would go to a local youth program, or maybe an animal shelter, depending on who you asked. But by the time you walk through the frat house’s front door, the only thing charitable happening is someone handing out shots on the stairs.

You’re overdressed. The room is already too loud. There’s a bucket labeled “donations” on the kitchen counter, next to a keg and a tray of mystery jello shots. The DJ equipment alone probably costs more than what they will raise tonight.

And there’s Edd.

He finds you quickly. Of course he does.

“Didn’t think you’d come,” he says, stepping close enough for you to catch that faint, expensive cologne he always seems to wear without trying. “You clean up nice.”

You don’t answer. Not at first. You glance around, trying to assess how far gone the night is already.

He’s still looking at you. Still with that expression like he’s sizing you up but isn’t worried about what you’ll decide.

You hate how effortlessly he does that. How the rules never seem to apply to him. How he says the quiet parts out loud and makes it sound like charm.

“You gonna stay in RA mode all night,” he asks, voice low, “or are you gonna let yourself have fun for once?”

You should leave. You should remind him who’s technically in charge here.

But instead, you follow him to the balcony.

The music is duller out here. The lights from the party flicker through the windows behind you. He leans against the railing like he’s done this a hundred times and you’ve just stepped into the scene late.

He watches you for a second, then smiles. “You always this serious?”

You fold your arms. “You always this careless?”

He shrugs. “Only when I can afford to be.”

That one lands. Quietly.

You should walk away. You should file a report. You should not be thinking about how close your knees are now that you’re sitting next to him on that old patio bench.

But he’s watching you like he’s already dared you to surprise him.

The party’s still going. The playlist’s getting raunchier. Someone inside just broke a lamp.

And you’ve got a choice.

Play it safe. Keep your distance. Keep your job.

Or show him what happens when someone like you decides not to play nice anymore.

Your move.

—— Hey!

I’m Edd 22M and I hope you liked this prompt :) I’m looking for a well literate but equally depraved partner to help me explore this or a similar kind of cliché university RP set up between a typical frat guy and academically oriented F. I can provide a thorough description and am open to visuals with reciprocation but absolutely do not require it if that’s not your thing. I’m pretty big on WMAF and WMIF scenarios and think this set up is perfect for it so if that’s an angle that interests you definitely let me know.

I’m happy to share kinks and limits once we’ve gotten into things a little and would love to hear a bit about your thoughts and ideas for the RP. I’m good with a short term arrangement but looking ideally for a longer more flushed out RP that is more balanced between actual RP and ‘fun’ which I hope isn’t a dealbreaker. Please include a brief description of yourself or character when you reach out and some fun facts or whatever you’re comfortable sharing. I’m looking for a bit of a vanilla approach to this, but of course, one with lots of rough and primal sex. I could be open to a bit more of a corrupt approach if you’re willing to brainstorm it a bit ahead of time!

If this scenario doesn’t exactly embody you that’s perfectly fine and I’m happy to explore ways to modify it (maybe a sexy TA) or accommodate some creative liberties to make it work! No stress on my end for response lengths but I do tend to go with at least a paragraph or two and match my partners complexity as best I can- if I feel like I have to carry the narrative I will lose interest unfortunately. If you made it this far please include the word ‘Yellow’ in your opening message so I know you got here. (If I don’t immediately respond just give me a little bit since I’m currently traveling :) )

Looking forward to hearing from you!