About Me: Hi, my name is Autumn! I write for Jschlatt and Rafe Cameron, my content is mostly 18+, but I will provide warnings. Feel free to send me requests or ask me questions, I love talking to everybody! I hope you guys enjoy my writing, though I know it’s definitely not the best on here, but feedback is appreciated, I’m always looking to better my writing.
Ok so for the request of 1k celebration, first of all congrats girl!!!!
Now, I've had this idea for a long time, rafe being his frat self with the boys, bragging about having the pants in the relationship and reader making him eat her out in front of them
꒰ঌ ໒꒱ Forcing Pathetic!Frat!Rafe to eat you out in front of his friends
a/n: Tyy !! And this ask was so hot omll(first time writing for frat!Rafe to), had my pussay dripping while writing 😮💨 Sub!Rafe just does sum to me
Rafe had a big ego. He loved to boast to all his friends on how he bagged the hottest girl he ever laid eyes on. Even going as far as to go on and on about the ‘control’ he has over her. That he has the pants in the relationship.
At first, it never bothered you. You’d just smile and laugh at his nonsense— and perhaps that got him ahead of himself. His occasional boasting becoming more and more frequent and obnoxious. And you couldn’t have that, so you had to put your boy back in his place.
꒰ঌ ໒꒱
“Awh fuck… Yeah that’s good.” You moaned, manicured hands having a firm grip in Rafe’s hair and tugging him further into your pretty pussy. His groans adding to your pleasure as he ate you out like you were his last meal. Arms holding your thighs close to him.
“Shit man…” You heard one of his buddies say as they sat back on the couch. Their eyes watching intently as Rafe listened to your every word. “He’s listening to her like a dog..” They chuckled out to one of their friends next to them. The arousal evident on both of them.
“Yeah.. fucking whipped.” The other chuckled, more awkward than the other as they watched with pure amusement.
You could feel the vibration of Rafes grunts of embarrassment as he listened to his friend’s. Abruptly pulling away from you to speak while adjusting his legs to hide how hard he was, no doubt wanting to shoot a smart rebuttal to the two.
But you weren’t having it, tugging his head to the side as you forced him to look back at you. And god if the sight wasn’t divine. His hair messy, unlike its usual niceness. Eye’s wide shot with arousal and a light flush decorating his face due to a mix of horniness and embarrassment. Your slick decorated his chin and shone nicely in the light and on his face.
Your voice was firm as you spoke and eyes raked over his features. “Fucking continue. Don’t even think about moving away until i say so.” You spat out before pushing him back in between your legs. A pathetic whine leaving his lips but his body listening to you anyways. His body shifting and arms moving to pull you closer to him again.
You smirked, giggle escaping your lips as you watched him. His friends laughter also ranging through the room. “Good boy..” You purred before a delicious flick of his tongue against your clit and vibrations from his moan pulled a moan of your own from your throat.
I always see rafe spitting in readers mouth but what about reader spitting in rafes mouth????
content WARNING: rafe cameron × blackcat!reader, mentions of deep throat, cumplay, spitting, finger sucking. +18 MDNI.
Rafe was slumped against the headboard, chest heaving, his jeans shoved down to his knees, his muscular frame glistening with sweat. She was on her knees between his legs. Her lips were swollen, smeared with spit and precum from deep throating him, her throat raw from taking him so deep she’d gagged, tears streaking her heavy black eyeliner.
She’d worked him hard, sucking him off with relentless focus, her tongue swirling around his tip, then swallowing him down until her nose brushed his pelvis, her nails digging into his thighs. He’d cursed, fists clenched in her hair, hips bucking as he fucked her mouth, but she’d set the pace, humming around him just to make him lose it. When he came, it was with a guttural groan, spilling hot and thick down her throat, his whole body shuddering. She didn’t pull back, swallowed every drop, slow, her eyes locked on his, daring him to look away.
Now, she crawled up his body, her fishnet stockings torn, her leather skirt hiked up to her hips. Rafe’s head lolled back, still catching his breath, his lips parted, pupils blown from the coke they’d snorted off the dresser minutes ago. She smirked, predatory, and straddled his lap, her fingers slick with spit as she grabbed his jaw, forcing his mouth open. “Open wide, Cameron,” she rasped, voice hoarse but dripping with command. Before he could snap back, she shoved two fingers past his lips, deep, pressing down on his tongue. He gagged, eyes flashing with a mix of fury and haze, but he didn’t bite, his tongue flicked against her fingers, instinctive, and she laughed.
“Fuckin’ taste it,” she said, sliding her fingers in and out, slow, teasing, feeling the heat of his mouth, the way his breath hitched. His cum was still on her tongue, mixed with her spit, and she leaned in close, her lips hovering over his. Rafe’s hands gripped her hips, hard enough to bruise, but he was too strung out to fight her control. She tilted her head, letting a thick string of saliva, laced with his cum, drip from her mouth into his. It hit his tongue, warm and filthy, and his eyes widened, a choked sound catching in his throat.
“Swallow it, you little bitch,” she purred, her fingers still in his mouth, smearing the mess across his lips. He did, reflexively, his throat bobbing, and she felt the rush of it, the power of making him take it, of watching him break under her. She pulled her fingers out, wiping them on his cheek, and leaned back, her smirk widening as she saw the flush creeping up his neck, the way his jaw clenched like he hated himself for letting her do it. “Good boy,” she said, voice mocking but soft, patting his cheek hard enough to sting. “Knew you could take it.”
the build up towards smut — specifically referring towards foreplay & teasing, is so much better than actual smut. it's so delicious omg.. the tension is so unmatched.
A/N: Title based off of What You Need by The Weeknd, this is my first time writing Rafe and is just practice basically, I kind of rushed the last part because it was late and I needed to go to bed lol, also my requests are open so feel free to send me some :)
Warnings: S4 Sub!Rafe, Sexual Content, Handjob, Biting, Scratching, Overstimulation.
Rafe didn't mean to hurt Sofia, he never wanted it to be like this. She just wasn't enough for him, and it hurt for him to even admit that to himself.
It didn't matter how many times he had tried to stay with her, to tell her what he wanted, to be vulnerable with her, he just couldn't.
Sofia wasn't her.
He had to end things, he couldn't keep doing this to her. He couldn't keep fucking her and pretending like she was someone else, he couldn't keep telling her to do these things that would remind him of her.
Rafe was a lot of things, but he wasn't a cheater.
So he broke up with her, the same night he knew he couldn't stop himself from driving to another woman's house. She cried, he apologized, she left, and so did he.
The roads were slick, rain pouring down heavy onto the black asphalt as he drove onto the cut. He was nervous, hoping—praying, that she would let him in, take him in.
He hesitated in front of her door, the rain soaking through his hoodie and onto his skin, goosebumps forming from the cold wetness.
It took him three minutes and a lot of nail biting to knock on her door, but when he finally did, his whole body screamed at him to turn around and leave.
He waited, his heart beating out of his chest when he heard the unmistakable sounds of her floorboards creaking, and when the door cracked open, he couldn't even look her in the eyes.
"Rafe? What are you doing here?"
Her voice was soft, familiar, and he immediately regretted coming here in the first place.
"I broke up with Sofia."
His voice was shaky, he sounded more hurt than he wanted too, like it was a big deal to him even though all he cared about was if she was going to let him through the door or not.
She was silent, and he was five seconds away from turning around and never speaking to her again when she finally decided to speak.
"Come in."
The door opened wider, and he let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding. He walked inside, looking around like he had never been here before, but everything was exactly the same as it was months ago.
The door clicked behind him, and he finally, finally turned around. She was looking at him in a way she never had before, pity, guilt, regret maybe? He didn't really know, but he did know he wanted her to stop.
"Are you okay?"
She asked gently, taking a step towards him, and he shakily inhaled, his body shivering at the smell of her perfume, the same one he was so familiar with so many months ago. It all felt so new and nostalgic at the same time.
"I broke up with her because of you."
He mumbled coldly, gazing straight into her confused eyes, his expression never changing. Her eyebrows furrowed, her head tilted in that way it always did when she was confused or thinking a little too hard.
"Me? I didn't— what are you talking about?"
Her voice was less soft now, tone higher pitched. He took a slow step closing to her, his gaze leaving her eyes to glance down at her lips.
"I need you."
He knew he sounded pathetic, his voice was shaky, the words were borderline whined, but he didn't care, because it was her.
She quickly frowned, making him wince. The look she was giving him made him want to bury himself in a hole and never be seen again.
"Rafe, you told me that this was over, that you needed to move on."
She said accusingly, her hand gesturing between them. He closed his eyes, dragging his hand down his face in a frustrated manner.
"I know what I said, but I.."
He let out a heavy sigh, running his hair through his grown out buzzcut.
"I can't stop thinking about you, I—I didn't think it would be this hard to go without you."
He mumbled, his face softening. She closed her eyes, tilting her head down to stare at the floor while she crossed her arms over her chest. She looked upset, and he felt his heart ache at the fact that he did this to her.
"So you think it's okay to show up to my house at- at ten a 'clock to tell me this? After you haven't texted me or called me for months—"
He took another step forward, attempting to put his hand on her face, but she backed up, and his hand fell back to his side.
"I'm sorry baby-"
He whispered, but she cut him off with a scoff, shaking her head in a way that made his cower.
"Don't call me that."
Her tone was dark, her voice so quiet he could barely make out the words, and he wanted nothing more than to apologize, but he knew she would just shut him down again.
"What do you want me to say?"
He whispered, moving his hand up to his face, biting at his nails as he gazed at the ground, tapping his feet against the stained hard-wood floors.
She let out a sigh, stepping towards him. Her hand raised, grabbing his wrist, pulling his hand away from his mouth, stopping him from biting his barely there nail.
"I hate when you do that."
She whispered quietly, and his lips twitched into a smile when he realized her hand held the grip on his wrist, not letting go just yet. She leaned in closer, their faces inches apart.
He leaned in, closing the gap, humming into the press of their lips. It had been so long since they had kissed, that he had almost forgot how perfectly her lips had fit alongside his.
She moved her hand up from his wrist, resting against his bicep, the other one coming up behind his neck, keeping him pressed against her. He hesitantly reached an arm around her, grasping her waist like he would wither away if he let go.
She broke the kiss first, looking up at him with a pointed expression, making him loosen his grip.
"I swear, you put a curse on me or something."
She mumbles, making a smile break out on Rafe's lips. He truthfully was just happy that she had even kissed him back, and even allowed him to touch her, hold her like he had been craving for weeks.
She leaned in again, placing a softer, shorter kiss on his lips, breaking apart within seconds.
"You still remember where my bedroom is?"
She whispered, moving her lips down his jaw, kissing down to his neck. He swallowed, struggling to respond at the feeling he had missed for so long. He barely got out a nod, holding in the noise his lungs were begging to let out as she softly bit down.
She pulled off, admiring the teeth indentions with a smile. She glanced back up at him, he was already looking down at her with a soft smile, looking like he was lost in his world.
"Well then, what are you waiting for?"
She mumbled, wrapping her arms around his neck. He finally took the hint, reaching down to grab her ass, pulling her up so he could hold her.
The whole way to her room he kissed at her neck, biting softly and mumbling incoherent words. He cracked the door open, walking over to the bed where he had gently sat her down, looking at her with a look that made her heart flutter.
She wasn't going to let the tables turn like this though.
"Lay down."
She growled, watching Rafe's expression change in an instant. He obliged, although hesitantly, his head resting on the pillows, his back flat against the mattress, his hands resting over his stomach.
She crawled over him, her hands finding their way under his hoodie, feeling him tense under her touch before finally relaxing. He watched her hands move under his hoodie, his back arching an inch off the bed when she would touch particularly sensitive spots.
"Can't believe you ignored me for months, then showed back up like nothing happened."
She whispered, her nails dragging down his chest. He choked back a whimper, his abs twitching under the touch as he looked back up at her. He felt like he was being tortured.
"I'm sorry..."
He whined when her nails dug in hard. His cock twitched in his pants, which didn't go unnoticed- by either of them.
She let up a little, pulling his hoodie up but not all the way off. He reached down to grab her waist, just wanting to touch her, but she grabbed his wrists before he made it that far.
"Don't touch me."
She groaned out, a little meaner than she meant for it to be, but he didn't seem to mind, quite the opposite actually. His hips raised off the bed, grinding against nothing at her words.
"God, you are desperate.."
She smiled, letting go of his wrists to return to his chest, this time accompanying her nails with her teeth, biting down right on the muscles above his ribs, his most sensitive spot.
He hisses at the pain, throwing his head back against the pillows and squeezing the sheets. She was torturing him, and it felt too good.
She continued to bit at his chest, relishing in the small choked noise he made, especially when she would scratch and bite at the same time. It didn't take too long for him to resort to begging, his cock leaking through his boxers and sweatpants.
"Please— please baby.."
He sighed out, his voice breathy and whiny. She looked up at him, admiring the way his face was flushed red, his eyes squinted and his mouth parted open, panting out shaky breaths.
"What do you want?"
She asks, her voice nonchalant like she hadn't just been attacking his chest for the last ten minutes. His eyes rolled back as her hands soothed over the irritated lines on his chest.
"'Wanna fuck you,"
He whispered, his voice shaking as her hands let up, leaving him all together. She snorted out a laugh at that, watching him furrow his eyebrows in confusion.
"Fuck me? No, you have to earn that, you should know better."
She giggled, watching him whine at her words. She dragged her hand down his chest, all the way down before settling onto the bulge in his sweats, teasingly running her fingers over the outline.
He breathed out a heavy sigh at the feeling, his gaze never leaving her face, silently begging her. His hips raised off of the bed, desperately trying to get more friction, making her take her hands off of him immediately.
"Be still.."
She grumbled, using one hand to press his hips down, and the other to pull his sweats and boxers down. He whimpered quietly and shifted around, trying to control himself and listen to her.
He felt pathetic, vulnerable, something he could never be around Sofia, and it was intoxicating, he felt drunk on pleasure and she hadn't even touched him yet.
She leaned down, spitting into her hand and finally placed it on his throbbing cock, forcing him to release a low groan. Her strokes were short and teasing, barely giving him any pleasure at all, just enough to keep him wanting more.
"Please—Mmph.."
He moaned out, his chest heaving at the feeling. She took pity on him a little, speeding up her strokes a little, watching his breaths speed up with her hand.
She dipped forward again, speeding up her strokes as she bit at his waistline, smiling as he flinched, hissing at the feeling. His legs started to shake, his whimpers turning into breathy moans, his hands gripping the sheets so hard his fingers lost their color.
"Please, please, please don't— don't stop.."
He begged, fighting the urge to grab her hair, anything to prevent her from letting up. She took pity on him though, stopping was just a distant thought in her brain.
At one particular bite on his v-line, he bucked his hips up, despite her best attempts to hold him down. He choked out a moan, come sputtering onto his navel, almost landing on her face as she dug my teeth into his skin.
She slowed her strokes, letting him ride out the high, but soon enough it was still too much. His body started to flinch away from her, desperately trying to avoid the stimulation, but she didn't let up, holding him in place.
"Wai— too.. too much-"
He choked up, unable to stop his hands from shakily grabbing her arm, weakly pulling her hand off of him, his chest heaving all at the same. She giggled at his frantic state, but complied with his desperate grasp, letting off of his spent cock.
His head flopped back onto the pillows, relief and exhaustion flooding his veins.
"Good?"
She asked softly, pulling his boxers and sweats back up, smiling at the small hiss he let out at the feeling. He nodded timidly as she laid down onto his chest, her hand raising to run through his hair.
"Been thinkin' about you for months.. 'm better than good.."
He mumbled, a smile twitching on his lips. She sat up for a second, pressing their lips together, before laying back down on his chest again, listening to his breathing calm down.
"Pull some shit like that again and I'm not answering the door next time."
hot take but i HATE when the reader turned 18 literally 3 days ago and the guy is 30 talking about how “ive wanted you for so long” ESPECIALLY if it’s their best friends dad like baby that man needs to be on a list..
+18 -> smut | after throwing you under the bus with his coach, rafe has to make it right, and you're not going to make it easy.
*spoilers* c/w: mean rafe, sub!rafe, possessiveness, dom!reader, dark!reader, swearing, name-calling, pet names, gaslighting (by the reader), walking into his room uninvited, begging, degradation, teasing, rubbing him over his jeans at the library, cum tasting, slapping, unsolicited nudes, rafe is down bad *cross-posted on my nhl account
I knew I was screwed the second I walked into Coach’s office. The way he was sitting—arms crossed, jaw tight—that look usually came before a sharp whistle and a no-pucks practice. But today wasn’t about my performance on the ice. No, this was about the damn accounting test I’d bombed. Again.
And sitting beside me, looking as composed as ever, was her. Your Name. My tutor. My painfully bright, always-on-time, way-too-fuckin’-hot-for-her-own-good tutor.
She was brilliant. And yeah, okay—maybe I had a massive, inconvenient, completely unrequited crush on her. But I was also failing, and now we were both in deep shit.
“Rafe.” Coach’s voice was low and controlled, making the hair on the back of my neck stand up. “This is your third failed test. And it’s not just embarrassing for you—it’s embarrassing for this program.”
“I know, Coach—”
“Then why the hell am I sittin’ here havin’ this conversation? You have a tutor. A good one. One who’s never had a student fail like this. So what’s the problem?”
I glanced at Your Name—her posture stiff, hands folded neatly in her lap. She looked ready to fight, but she wouldn’t. She never lost her cool.
Coach sighed, turning to her. “I don’t get it, Your Name. You’ve got a perfect track record with these boys. My players always pass. But now, suddenly, Rafe’s grades are tanking. What changed?”
She cleared her throat, sitting straighter. “Nothing, sir. I’ve been doing my job. I promise—”
“Then why isn’t it working?”
There was a beat of silence. She shot me a side-eye. I knew she wanted me to take the hit.
“Maybe she’s just not into it anymore,” I said with a shrug. “Could be personal. Or maybe she’s not working as hard as she used to.” The second the words left my mouth, I knew I’d fucked up. I felt the heat of her glare without even looking.
Coach exhaled sharply. “Well, Cameron, if she’s not into this, maybe we should find you a new tutor.”
My stomach dropped. I shifted in my seat, suddenly uncomfortable—but I kept my face neutral. I didn’t want a new tutor. Not because I actually cared about passing accounting but because I liked sitting next to her during those torturous sessions. I liked the way she barely tolerated my jokes. I liked being around her. I wasn’t about to admit any of that, though.
So I just said, “I’m sure she’ll do better.”
The air in the room thickened. I didn’t dare look at her, but I could feel her anger radiating off her—controlled, contained, ready to boil over.
Coach sighed, rubbing his temple. “Fine. The accounting professor is letting you redo the test. Your Name, this is your last chance to prove yourself. If he fails again, you’re done.”
She nodded, lips pressed into a tight line. “Understood, sir.”
Coach dismissed us, and the second we stepped into the hallway and the door clicked shut behind us, she turned on me.
Whack.
My head snapped to the side as the sting seared across my cheek. I blinked, stunned.
She slapped me.
She smacked the hell out of me in the middle of the athletic department hallway… And God help me, I had never been more turned on in my life.
I stared at her—chest rising, cheek burning in the best way. She was fuming, her eyes ablaze, breath short and tight.
“Are you kidding me, Rafe?” she hissed. “You’re failing because of you. Because you don’t fucking care. And you sat there and threw me under the bus? In front of Coach? You’re a fuckin’ pussy.”
I licked my lips, heart hammering. “Yeah,” I murmured. “That was pretty messed up.”
Her eyes narrowed, clearly unamused. “Messed up? Rafe, I need this job. And if you fail that test again, I’m screwed.”
“Guess you’ll just have to make sure I pass, then.”
She let out a frustrated noise, fists clenched, and I couldn’t stop the smirk that tugged at my lips. God, she was hot when she was mad.
“Fuck you,” she snapped. I lowered my bag, trying to hide the hard-on, tenting my sweats. “Library. One PM.”
I rolled my eyes and sucked my teeth before turning my attention back to her. “Yes, ma’am.”
ᝰ.ᐟજ⁀➴⋆. Later that day…
Reader’s POV 𖤐ᝰ.ᐟ𖦹₊⊹
Fuck…
I’d never hit anyone before. But the moment he threw me under the bus in Coach’s office—like I hadn’t been bending over backward trying to drag his sorry-ass GPA above a D—something in me snapped.
And now I was doing something just as impulsive: marching up to the damn hockey house at 1:30 because he stood me up.
After all that… Rafe Cameron dared to try me.
I climbed the stairs, the heavy scent of Dior Sauvage and sweaty hockey equipment already leaking from under the door. The second I knocked, JJ answered.
He leaned into the doorframe with a lazy, cocky grin, hair still damp from a shower, towel slung over his shoulders, wearing nothing but sweats and slides.
“Well, shit,” he drawled. “How are you, tutor girl?”
“Good,” I smiled, stepping inside, feeling his eyes rake over me.
“Rafe’s upstairs, sunshine. You better not slap him again,” he laughed, half-teasing, half-genuinely impressed. “You’re never gonna get rid of him.”
“—Hey, Your Name,” Kelce met me at the steps, before I could even process the embarrassment of Rafe telling JJ.
I sighed and smiled, stepping past him on my way up. “Rafe missed our session. Again.”
“Figures,” he said through a yawn. “Are we surprised?”
I rolled my eyes, chuckling tiredly. “Nothing surprises me with him.”
“You coming to our game tomorrow?”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” I said with a soft smile.
“Good,” he called after me. “We play better when you’re watchin’.” He flirted and winked, and I shook my head, trying to hide the dizzy grin tugging at my lips. But it was useless as Pope passed by and agreed with the captain.
I walked to the end of the hallway, my footsteps soft against the worn hardwood, my heart pounding harder with each step. I stopped before Rafe’s door—faint music leaked from the other side. I knocked twice. No answer. That anger from earlier started to swell again.
Creak.
The old floorboards shifted. He was definitely in there.
“Rafe,” I snapped. “I know you’re in there. You missed your session, and this is important. I’m coming in.”
I gave him one final second, then twisted the handle and opened the door. Nothing. Then I heard it. Soft and breathless. My name? Not just whispered—but whined.
The room was dim, the curtains mostly drawn. I stepped forward, slow, trying to process what I’d just heard. My name again. Quieter this time, but unmistakable. And just as unmistakable—his deep, fucked-out moans.
I froze, fingers grazing the edge of the half-open door. His voice was hoarse and low, spilling from his lips like he was talking to me. “Fuck, Your Name, always lookin’ at me like that… You don’t know what you’re doing to me…”
My lips parted as I listened to the sloppy, rhythmic sounds, making it painfully clear what he was doing. His voice was thick with need and desperation. “Gonna bend you over, pretty—this perfect fuckin’ ass. This fuckin’ pussy… All for me? Mmphh… I know it is. Atta baby…”
Knock.
I smacked the door, sharp and hard. The air in the room shifted. Rafe sucked in a breath so fast it sounded like it hurt, no doubt scrambling for clothes.
“What the hell, Your Name?” His voice was weak—defensive in a way I’d never heard before. And I couldn’t help it—I smiled. Because Rafe Cameron—cocky, insufferable, wildly infuriating Rafe Cameron—was just jerking off to me. Confirmed. No more guessing. No more wondering. And maybe, just maybe… I loved it.
Rafe’s POV 𖤐ᝰ.ᐟ𖦹₊⊹
“Fuck…” I rolled out my neck and took a deep breath. She was so angry. So righteous. So fuckin’ sexy. And I was losing my mind over it.
Leaning forward, I pressed my forehead to the door that separated us. “Your Name…” I mumbled. “I deserved it, alright,” I muttered under my breath. “Is that what you wanted to hear? Is that why you’re barging into my room? That fuckin’ slap—I needed it, okay.”
“What were you doing?” Her voice was soft and innocent—almost sweet. A voice I’d rarely heard her use. But it hit like a gut punch. Because laced in that tonel was her way of saying: I heard everything. Blood drained from my face so fast I felt dizzy. There was no coming back from this. “May I?”
I didn’t even think—just mumbled, “Yeah,” under my breath. Weak and defensive. Like a guy who’d just been caught doin’ precisely what I was doin’.
The handle twisted. The door creaked open. Then—she stepped inside. She smiled at me like this wasn’t the most humiliating moment of my entire fuckin’ life.
But my eyes couldn’t help it. They dropped instantly—to her glossy lips, then lower, catching the way her shirt clung to her tits. The way her jeans sat just right on her hips. She was glowing, so soft and sexy. I licked my lips before I could stop myself, the fire under my skin reigniting like she’d flipped a damn switch. “What the hell are you doing here?” I snapped, voice sharper than I meant. “What—making house calls now? Gonna start poppin’ in every time one of your screw-up athletes misses a session?”
She didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink. She just smiled again and stepped closer, and the second she did, so did I, drawn to her like a goddamn magnet. My breath caught. She stayed quiet, and I couldn’t take the silence—the waiting. I felt like I was crawling out of my skin.
“Say somethin’,” I huffed, voice low and desperate. “Please.”
She tilted her head—all fake innocence and lethal calm. “So…” she said, eyes flicking up to meet mine. “Do you wanna tell me what you were doin’ in here—” She took another step closer, eyes glinting. “Or do you want me to guess?”
My whole body was locked up. Cheeks burning. Skin on fire. Shame and heat colliding. I’d never blushed harder in my life. “Tell me,” I whispered. And I hated how needy it sounded. I didn’t even know what I was asking for. Maybe I did. I just wanted to hear her say it. I wanted the words from her mouth.
She looked up at me, that same maddening smile tugging at her lips—like she knew exactly what I needed. And she was going to make me suffer for it. “You want me to say it? Okay—” She leaned in slightly, chin tilted, voice just this side of mocking. “You were in here,” she said slowly, voice dripping with condescension, “moaning my name with your hand wrapped around your cock, thinking about how I slapped you. How I put you in your place.”
Every word hit like a blow: hot, sharp, and precise. I couldn’t even look at her. She tilted her head, eyes sweeping over me with slow, deliberate amusement. Then her lips curled, and she delivered another strike.
“You really couldn’t help yourself, huh?” she murmured. “All that discipline on the ice and none of it where it counts. You’re just a pathetic, horny mess in the bathroom over a girl who slapped the shit out of you.”
I moved before I could think. Surged forward. But she stepped back with a laugh—light, sharp—dodging me easily before she walked deeper into my room.
“What was that?” she asked, looking over her shoulder, brow arched in disgust—like the idea of me touching her was laughable. “Seriously, Rafe? After today? After that?”
It was cruel. It was perfect. She was baiting me—dangling herself just out of reach, pretending I was the one crossing a line when she was the one playing the game like a fuckin’ pro. It made me want her more. My voice cracked as I followed her. Heat crawling up my neck. “You want me to beg?” I asked, my voice stuttering in my throat.
She turned slowly, smiling like she’d already won. “Yeah,” she said sweetly. “I think that’s a good start.”
“Please…”
She laughed. Her arms folded as she looked me up and down as if I were a toy she was still deciding whether or not to play with. “Unless there’s a puck and a stick, you really don’t give a fuck, do you?” Her smile darkened. “I heard you in the bathroom, Rafe. I heard how desperate you can be.” She stepped closer, her voice turning to a blade. “Fucking beg.”
And as soon as those beautiful, brutal words left her lips—I sank. I dropped to my knees on the cold hardwood, my chest rising and falling rapidly. She looked down at me with a glint in her eyes—and I couldn’t tell if she wanted to ruin me or kiss me. I wanted both.
“Please, Your Name,” I whispered. The words barely hold together. “I’m sorry—about everything. I didn’t mean to be an asshole earlier, I just—God, I don’t even know. I can’t think straight around you. You’re so smart and pretty, and I’m such a fuckin’ mess, and I know I don’t deserve it, but I want you.” My hands rested on her thighs, my eyes locked on hers, desperate and pleading.
She was starting to melt—I saw it. In the flicker of her lips. In the shift of her stance. The way her breathing changed. I leaned in, crawling a little closer.
“Tell me what to do,” I begged again, softer now, hoarse. “Make me earn it. I’ll do a good job for you, I swear. I’ll tell Coach what’s goin’ on… I’ll take the hit I should’ve taken from the start. You can trust me. I just want to make you feel good. I want to apologize—”
“Meet me at the library at seven,” she cut me off, cool and final, brushing my hands off her thighs with a touch that shattered something inside me. “Don’t be late.”
“Your Name, wait—” I scrambled up, voice cracking, stumbling slightly as I reached out, catching her wrist before she could leave. “You’re—Shit. Uh… You’re leaving? Why? Don’t go. Please. Just—Just stay. You wanna stay, don’t you? C’mon…”
“Calm down, Rafe…” she purred. “If you’re that desperate, you can finish what you were doin’ in the bathroom… Like a good boy.”
Oh, shit.
And just like that, she walked out—leaving me hard, flushed, and aching.
ᝰ.ᐟજ⁀➴⋆. Later that day…
I showed up at 6:30, Thirty minutes early—with flowers in hand. Not just any flowers, either. Romantic shit. Her favorite color in a desperate attempt to score a few points. The kind that said ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘I want you’ all at once. Or at least that’s what JJ said. I don’t fuckin’ know. I was panicking.
I’d actually put on an outfit: a button-up that wasn’t wrinkled or my gameday attire. No sweats, no hoodie. She’d once complimented my clothes—some random day when I had a meeting and wore something halfway decent. But it had stuck with me for weeks.
Now I sat at the table pretending to read, eyes locked on the entrance like a hawk, anticipation crawling up my spine. And then she walked in. Her little skirt swayed with each step, catching the breeze from the ancient AC unit. Her hair shifted over her shoulders, phone in hand, thumb gliding across the screen, lip tucked between her teeth as she read something. My jaw clenched as jealousy surged out of nowhere. Who the hell was she texting? Fuck, I was in trouble.
She took the seat across from me without even glancing up. Set her water bottle down, popped the lid, and took a sip from the straw. And suddenly, all I could think about was her mouth. Her lips, soft and perfect, wrapping around that straw—and what it would feel like on me.
“So,” she said casually, sliding a notebook out of her bag, “after that meeting in Coach’s office, we’ve got work to do.”
Not a flicker of acknowledgment. Nothing about the slap. Nothing about the bathroom. Nothing about the begging or about her telling me to finish in the sink like a ‘good boy’. Nothing. I blinked at her, caught completely off guard. “Wait—seriously?”
She glanced at me, confused. “What?” she asked, brows raised, perfectly innocent.
My heart stuttered. Was she gaslighting me? Fuck, she was. I adjusted my jeans slightly, feeling myself already starting to stiffen. “I, uh—I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”
“Pretty flowers,” she murmured. “Thank you… It’s water under the bridge.”
And I couldn’t help it—my voice dropped, quiet like I wasn’t even sure what happened anymore. “When you stopped by my place earlier—”
“Stopped by?” Her head tilted. That same slow, devastating smile spread across her lips. “Wow,” she said lightly, feigning surprise. “That doesn’t really sound like somethin’ I’d do.”
I just stared at her speechless. Too far gone to pull myself out. I laughed, breathlessly, trying to play it cool even as my pulse pounded. “Yeah, you did,” I said, watching her closely. “You stopped by and asked why I didn’t show up for our session.”
Her expression shifted. That teasing sparkle flashed behind her eyes. But her voice dropped—sharp and precise. “Well,” she said instantly, “I don’t make house calls, Rafe.”
My eyes widened. She threw my own words back at me, twisting the knife. God, she was good. I leaned forward slightly, heat pooling in my cheeks. “You told me to meet you here at seven. How would I know if you didn't tell me?”
She shrugged, twirling her pen between her fingers. “That is a mystery,” she said, sweet and curious all at once, “but good on you, Rafe. You showed up like a…” She paused and waited for me to finish her sentence. My heart slammed in my chest, sweat beading on my neck. I knew what she wanted me to say. She knew I knew. It tumbled out before I could stop it.
“…A good boy.”
Her head snapped toward me with a look of mock disgust, lips twitching like she was trying not to laugh. “Well, I was gonna say good student,” she drawled. “Jesus Christ, Rafe. Calm down.” And I swore my brain short-circuited trying to survive her. “So,” she said with a bright, innocent smile, “accounting?”
She reached into her backpack like nothing had happened—like I hadn’t begged her on my knees like she hadn’t ruined my ability to think about anything but her.
She slid one of the books across the table to me and clicked her pen a few times. The sound echoed, sharp in the quiet library.
Then she crossed her legs, skirt riding up just enough to kill my last two functioning brain cells. She leaned forward slightly to turn on the little table lamp, and the way her tits shifted under her shirt made me throw my empty head back, staring at the ceiling like it could save me. I shut my eyes. Drew a deep, jagged breath.
“Page 99,” she said casually, tapping the book in front of me. I looked down at the textbook—the weathered cover. The word Accounting staring back at me like a dare. I grabbed the lid, fumbling with the book. I tried to breathe like a normal fuckin’ human—and flipped it open. Then I stopped.
Dead.
My heart slammed against my ribs because a Polaroid sat between the pages. Her. In my hockey jersey. Nothing on underneath. Sprawled across, what I could only dream was her bed—her hair was perfection, lips parted, one hand curled in the hem of the jersey like she was seconds away from showing me more.
I forgot how to blink. I forgot how to breathe. “Wait—”
“Well,” she cut off my panic with faux curiosity, reaching over and calmly plucking the photo from the pages before slipping it back into her bag like it was just another sticky note. “How did that get in there?”
I didn’t say a word. I couldn’t. Because all I could think about was how I’d do absolutely anything to see that picture again. So I did the only thing I could do. I sat there like a good student. I didn’t say a word. I barely breathed—I just followed her lead, turned the pages when she told me to and scribbled down notes willingly for the first time in three and a half years here, feeding off her praise like it was air. I couldn’t get enough.
I watched her closely, soaking in every detail. How her eyes lit up when she explained something. How her lips moved when she mouthed equations under her breath. How her ankle swung where her legs were crossed, skirt barely covering her thighs.
And it wasn’t just about how hot she was or how she looked in that picture that was now burned into my brain—it was everything. I could see her being mine. I could picture her in the stands, wearing my name, making her proud every fucking night. I could imagine her in my room. In my life. My everything. What the fuck is happening to me?
I was mid-sentence—trying to explain something I barely understood—when my voice caught. I stumbled over the words, and it wasn’t because the concept was hard. It was because her fingers had just brushed my thigh.
She walked them slowly over the denim of my jeans, right to the inside of my leg, making my heart race and my head spin. I tried to pretend I was okay. That I wasn’t seconds away from falling apart. I adjusted in my chair, but it was useless. Her hand moved higher.
My jaw tightened as she traced the seam of my jeans—light and teasing. I swallowed hard. My heart was pounding so loud I was sure she could hear it. I looked at her, but she wasn’t even looking at me. She was pretending to read one of my notes like she wasn’t currently turning me into a fucking mess.
Then she went further. Her hand landed on my thigh—a soft squeeze. “Good job,” she said warmly. A deep, involuntary groan left my throat. Her palm flattened over my crotch, slow and firm, cupping me through my jeans. My lips parted. Breath caught.
I flexed my thighs, trying to ground myself—trying not to jerk forward into her hand like I wanted to. She stroked me through the denim—soft, steady pressure—and I was already half-gone.
My blood was rushing low, fast. My cock pressed against the zipper so hard it ached.
I blinked down at the textbook and tried to read the words—any of them—but they were all fuzzy. I clenched my jaw to keep from moaning. I tipped my head back, eyes shut, fighting the urge to press my mouth to her skin or bury myself in her neck.
She smirked, wicked, and kept her hand moving. Slow. Unrelenting. I shifted in my seat, fingers curling against the underside of the table. My thighs trembled. My stomach tightened. Every nerve in my body was focused on her touch, the rhythm of it, and how goddamn close I was to losing it.
She leaned in, flipped a page in my notes like nothing was happening, and said— “So… what’s your final answer for number six?”
I could barely remember my own name. “A—A hundred and fuck,” I stammered, my tone nothing short of pathetic. “A hundred and five.”
She grinned, eyes flicking to my face. “Good choice… Good fucking boy.” I ran a hand through my hair, my forehead damp, and I couldn’t take it anymore. My orgasm hit me so hard I saw white.
I reached down and grabbed her wrist tight under the table as I came in my jeans—hot and heavy—every pulse dragging a deep, broken breath from my lungs. My head bowed. My mouth stayed open, panting, still locked in her grasp.
She didn’t move. Let me ride it out. Then, like it was nothing, she brushed her fingers over the wet patch on my thigh—spreading it slightly. I shuddered, completely overstimulated.
She pulled her hand back and, eyes still locked on mine, sucked the tip of her middle and pointer fingers clean. My fists clenched, and my jaw locked. My cock still twitched in the mess she’d made.
Then she reached over and closed the book like she hadn’t just ruined me. “Good job tonight,” she said casually, standing, her smile warm. Easy. Like she didn’t just blow my mind in the middle of the fuckin’ library. My breathing was still heavy, my hands still gripping the table.
I looked down at my stained jeans, still trying to catch up and understand what had just happened—when she walked away. I stared after her, paralyzed. The second she disappeared from view, I fumbled for my phone—my heart still hammering—and it buzzed just as I got it out.
Tutor Girl: My place. 10 PM. Don’t be late.
ᝰ.ᐟજ⁀➴⋆. Later that night…
I stepped out of my car, adrenaline coursing through my veins. It was 9:57. I wasn’t about to be late.
I jogged to the door of the college house and knocked once—sharp and quick.
One of her roommates answered, giving me an uncertain smile.
“Hi,” she said hesitantly.
“I, uh… Is Your Name here?”
“Yeah,” she smiled, slightly confused. “She went to bed an hour ago—”
“She’s expecting me,” I cut her off before she could even finish. Your Name was fuckin’ with me. Again. And fuck… she was perfect. “Up the hall, to the left, yeah?” I asked, already stepping inside.
She nodded, and I took the stairs two at a time, my heart pounding harder with every step. Her door was closed. A thin sliver of light crept out from beneath it.
I knocked once. Then, I pressed my ear to the wood.
Silence.
Then I heard it. “Fuck, Rafe…” She whimpered. My cock twitched instantly at the sound. It was soft. Desperate. Like she’d been waiting all day to say it.
“Just like that—” She praised me, her tone so needy that I couldn’t help but push the door open, and then my heart stopped.
There she was, in the center of her bed: skin glowing, dewy, lips parted, eyes shut, that same satisfied little smile tugging at her mouth. She was wearing my jersey and nothing else.
Her fingers were buried deep inside herself. Her head tipped back against the pillow. Chest rising and falling in slow, heavy waves.
Her eyes met mine with a wicked sparkle that told me this was all for me. Unlike me, she wanted to get caught, and she wanted me to finish it.
Her hands are on his shoulders, pushing him gently back onto the couch. His hearts racing, his body so warm he felt like he was being lit on fire.
He'd dreamed about this, for months, for years. Ever since he had laid eyes on her in the college library he wanted her, every part of her. And now here she was, her hands running up his sides in their shared houses living room as her lips press against his sensitive neck.
He gasps as her hand trails down towards his waistline, his hips bucking up into her touch. She leaves his neck to kiss his lips roughly, teeth clashing and tongues sloppily intertwining as Schlatt moaned into the kiss. He couldn't figure out what to focus on, her rough kissing, or her hand that slowly worked on unbuttoning his jeans.
He chose the hand on his pants. She broke the kiss to look down, struggling to unbutton his pants and make out at the same time. Schlatt followed her eyes, watching her roughly yank his pants down as he lifts his hips to help them along.
She pauses suddenly, making him almost whine. "You want this?" She asks him, her hand hovering above where he wants her the most. He nods, biting his lip. "Fuck, yes, always ha-" He says breathlessly, before being cut off by a rough kiss and a hand pulling him out of his boxers.
"Just shut up." She breathes out against his lips, and he doesn't even think twice about it, just nodding and letting out a breathy moan as she finally starts to touch his cock.
She continues to bite at his neck, sucking harshly and leaving deep purple marks on his pale skin. Schlatt can feel her spit running down his neck and turning cold, but he can't find it in himself to be disgusted right now.
She pulls herself off of him, standing up in front of him and taking off her shirt in one motion. Schlatt can feel himself drooling, staring at her tits and imagining them bouncing above him. She just smiles, pulling down her shorts and underwear.
He doesn't even have time to admire her naked body before she's back on top of him, pressing her soaking wet cunt against his dick. "Fuck, you're so we-" She cuts him off again, this time with a hand over his mouth.
He doesn't have time to even complain about it when she lines herself up onto him, sitting down onto his cock. He moans breathily into her hand, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. His brain was depraved of thoughts, maybe it was from the tightness of her pussy squeezing and sucking him in, or maybe it was from the lack of oxygen from her hand covering his mouth.
Either way, it didn't matter to him, especially when she started moving, letting out the prettiest moans, staring down and watching him disappear into her. When her hand finally leaves his mouth, it finds his hair, holding tightly and holding his head back against the couch making him whimper loudly from the pain.
"Y'feel so good.." He whimpers breathily, his chest heaving and his hips bucking up into her. He can barely see her smile, before she moans again, leaning down to press her forehead against his shoulder, still holding his head back by his hair.
Schlatt frowns when he can't see her face anymore, he needs to see her, he has too. "Please.. l'me see y'r face.." He slurs out in between moans. She sits back up, letting go of his hair and opting to grab at his shoulders and chest instead, leaving deep red marks where she scratches him up.
He doesn't mind though, he can't focus on anything except for the feeling of her and the expression on her face, her beautiful face. He watches her mouth open as she gasps, before letting out a moan, and Schlatt feels proud of himself, proud that he can make her feel this good.
"I love you," He blurts out, quietly and breathily, but still loud enough for her to hear, loud enough to make her stop in her tracks and look at him in the eyes, her eyebrows raising and her mouth open in surprise.
"I.. Uh.." She hesitates, unable to think of what to say.
"Just.. Just tell me you love me, just for tonight.. please.." He begs, his hands coming up to hold her waist as he looks at her, his face soft and his eyes wet with happy tears or sad tears, not even he knows.
She starts to rise up on his cock again, and Schlatt thinks she might just up and leave, but she drops back down, looking at him with a soft smile.
"I love you too." She says, a hint of a laugh in her voice, but he doesn't notice. All he can hear is that she loves him too.
"Fuck.. thank you," He says, whimpering before cumming inside of her.
A/N: I have an actual full fic with chapters coming out soon so be excited, also sub!schlatt is on top and I will stand by that for the rest of my life! Also Title is from Wicked Games - The Weeknd.
I wrote this in my notes many months ago so I apologize if it’s really bad, but my biggest hc for Schlatt is a hair pulling kink and i had to make it into a short fic.
Also apologies for the amount of times I say cock, i despise the word member and i swear i will never use it.
Warning: NSFW!!
“C’mon- Just admit it, you literally *moaned* like a girl last time i did it!”
“That’s because you pulled so hard asshole!! Doesn’t mean I like it!” Schlatt shouts at me.
“Fine, if you wannna act so big and tuff, then let’s make a deal.”
He’s hesitant, his eyes scanning me and waiting for an explanation.
“I ride you, I get to pull your hair as much as I want, and you have to last longer than 5 minutes- and you’re not allowed to ask me to slow down!”
He laughs and rolls his eyes.
“Pftt- 5 minutes? Easy peasy.”
He picks up the remote and turns on the T.V. while I hold my hand out.
“Shake on it.” I say.
He rolls his eyes but eventually shakes my hand.
That night, Schlatt has me pushed against the bed, biting up my neck and slowly undressing me. When I manage to sneak a hand into his hair, he lifts his head to protest- Seems he already forgot about the deal.
“Uh-Uh, we had a deal, remember?”
He rolls his eyes and grabs my entire body, flipping us around so I was on top of him, I give him a sweet smile and he just stares up at me with that agitated look on his face.
I gently take one of my hands out of his hair and run it down his cheek, pressing a soft gentle kiss to the area under his ear.
His breath hitches and his hips shift, I smirk against his neck and bite down, causing him to let out a small groan.
I grind my hips down onto his, dripping onto his cock, he closes his eyes and throws his head back, opening his mouth in a silent moan.
I reach down and grab his cock before slowly sitting myself down onto him, when I look up, all I see is pure adoration in his eyes. It makes me want to go soft and gentle on him today, but I can’t forget that there’s a bigger task at hand, *I have to win this bet*.
I feign innocence, giving him a sweet kiss on the cheek and rubbing my fingers on his scalp. As I add my tongue into the gentle kiss, he moans deep into me, i lift my hips and slowly sit back down on his cock, faking gentleness so he can get relaxed and let his guard down.
When I feel that he’s out of it enough, I slowly lift myself up before slamming my hips down and repeating at a ruthless pace, at the same time pulling his hair so hard that his head falls back and hits the wall.
He lets out the exact same moan he did last time, except for the fact that this time he didn’t stop after the first. He pants and whimpers as I keep the pressure on his hair, he takes one of his hands off of the sheet before roughly grabbing my hip, digging his nails in. Usually I would allow it, the pain adding a little extra pleasure. But today, I was in charge.
I halt to a complete stop and let go of his hair. He lifts his head up and looks at me, his eyes teary and his expression confused.
“Don’t do that, take your hand off and keep both of them on the bed.”
He lifts an eyebrow at me.
“What the fuck- I can’t touch you?”
I smile at his voice, already raspy from using it more than he usually does.
“No, you can’t touch me. I’m in charge.” I say, basically rubbing in it at this point.
He scoffs, “Fuck you, you’re not in charge-“ I grab a fistful of his hair and pull his head sideways as he lets out a strangled moan.
“Yes, I am.” I say sternly. He takes his hand off and sets it on the bed, grabbing the sheets roughly.
Looking up at me with tears threatening to fall out his eyes, he pants and whimpers.
“Nothin to say now huh, Big Guy?” He just closes his eyes in response, admitting defeat to me. I smile and let up on his hair some in appreciation.
When I start to ride him, he starts whimpering again, with little gasps and whines in between them, and I could almost cum just hearing him.
Thinking about how such a tall, gruff, big man could moan and whimper like that. To add more to his pleasure, I lean down and bite his should *hard* before licking over it to soothe the irritated indentions that were already turning purple.
He almost sobs out a moan when I bite, breathe hitching as he starts to struggle more. I could feel he was getting close by the way his body was starting to shake, and the way his whimpers were getting higher pitched by the second.
“Fuck- Please, slow-“
He couldn’t even finish his sentence before letting out a short, hitched gasp and a loud moan as he came inside of me.
what if schlatt and you were both doms and every time you guys had sex it would be a 'fight' for dominance in the beginning and schlatt always won because you couldn't figure out what made him tick until-
You and Schlatt are on your bed, making out feverously as you try to keep him down below you while your straddling his hips and grinding down onto him.
He almost knocks you off balance by trying to push you over and on instinct you grab whatever your holding onto so you don't fall down, which just so happens to be his hair.
He freezes and lets out a quiet moan which immediately stops you in your tracks. After getting over the initial shock of the noise he let out, you smirk as he furrows his eyebrows and his face turns bright red.
"Jayy.." You say in a teasing voice and he groans in embarrassment.
"Don't."
You smile, "So what, you have a pain kink, is that what it is?"
He almost growls and reaches out to grab your wrist, trying to pull your hand out of his hair. Before he can even touch your arm, you tighten your hand in his hair and pull roughly.
He moans more breathily this time, bucking his hips up into you, his hand that was reaching to grab you now holding onto the sheets for dear life.
"Awww baby, you should of told me." You taunt him as he breathes heavily, turning his head to hide his face from you in embarrassment.
Another idea pops into your mind at the sight of his exposed unmarked neck and shoulder. I mean, if he likes hair pulling he'll probably like this too.
You lean down and kiss his neck gently, your hand still in his hair just incase he try's to flip you over again. When you find the spot that makes him shiver, you bite down hard.
He lets out a high pitched moan and squirms under you, bucking his hips up again. You giggle into his neck and kiss the spot that you bit.
You lean back to look at him, twisting your hand in his hair and pulling his head to face you while he whines. When he finally looks you in the eyes you tilt your head.
"You finally gonna' be a good boy for me tonight?" You ask in a taunting voice.
thinking about how schlatt said he cums super quick
imagine you’ve been in a relationship with him for 6 months and you still haven’t had sex because he just keeps cumming in his pants
like you’re both making out on his bed and your grinding against him as like foreplay and out of no where
“Fuck- Fuck baby I’m sorry..”
“Did you cum in your pants again Jay?”
And he would just nod and hide his face in your shoulder because he’s so embarrassed while you kiss his neck and tell him it’s okay.
(he makes up for it by eating you out and creaming his pants some more)
And the first time he actually gets inside of you he just cums immediately before his dick is even all the way in (you end up just riding him while he’s super overstimulated and a whiny mess)
