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inthelibraryrecs · 22 days ago

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I hadn't read a mattheo fic in a while and this was so so good

blanket monster

synopsis. with your radiator broken, you either freeze to death or borrow a blanket from your roommate mattheo. what happens when a badly planned thievery causes you to be trapped with him under his blanket? beneath the covers, there are no rules: just heat, hunger, and a monster with your name on his tongue.

pairing. roommate! mattheo riddle x reader

content/mdni. fem!reader, roommate!au, cocky!mattheo, pervert!mattheo, sleepy!mattheo, tit play, dry/wet-humping, clit stimulation, thigh-fucking, neck kissing, a lot of tension, teasing, praise, begging, dirty talk, name-calling (good girl, baby), messy, unprotected p in v (although matty preaches safe sèx), a lot of restraint, quite soft ngl, a ton of plot

word count. 3.8k

a/n. i am still not fully back, but i managed to write this! y’all already know i have strangely specific plots. hope you enjoy it tho! feedback and reblogs are extremely appreciated

after a weak push, the door creaked open with a high-pitched hum, slowly revealing mattheo’s room. surprisingly, it was drowned in silence — his pc was shut down, his phone locked and tucked away in his nightstand, only visible thanks to the shimmering white of the charger.

his window was closed, but his curtains were wide open, allowing the beautiful shine of the moon to spill into the chamber and gloss all over its constituents.

including mattheo’s sleeping form.

he was submerged under a fluffy blanket, sprawled across the bed on his side. only his curly tuff of hair was visible, the rest of his body completely covered by the thick covers.

“mattheo.”

you whisper-yelled his name as you inched closer and closer to him, trespassing into his room without his permission yet again.

in your defense, you first gave him a warning of your arrival on his phone, but he seems to have disregarded any sort of message from you to sleep.

“mattheo.”

you tried again, this time with a sharper tone, a bit annoyed that he was not stirring awake from your first call.

he was as unwavering as a log, maintaining his initial position under the covers. his breath was stilled and controlled, only small snores leaving his probably parted lips here and there.

mattheo could have been robbed in his sleep and he would have had no idea.

“matty, c’mon.”

you were bolder now, bending at your waist above the bed and urging him to wake up in a louder voice.

the new, proximal position allowed you to see his face clearly — peaceful, no crease or wrinkle on his sleeping expression. his lips were indeed open, but thankfully no drool slipped away between them. his beautiful chocolate eyes were covered by heavy lids and sealed away by his thick lashes. his curls were partly sticking to his forehead, skin heated from the warmth of his slumber, partly spread all across his pillow in a confusing mess.

“this fool is sweating while i am freezing to death.”

that's why you came to his room — you needed to borrow another blanket as yours did little to nothing to help with the low temperature in your room. your radiator broke during the day and, despite mattheo’s generous offer to sleep in his room, you stood your ground and decided to face the cold on your own.

big mistake.

not even your thickest pajamas and a mountain of blankets did the trick.

“mattyyyyy.”

elongating the vowel at the end of his nickname, you called out to him one last time. you even put on your sweetest voice, somehow sure this time you will succeed in waking him up. and to make odds be in your favour, you even scrunched up the long sleeves of your blouse and poke at his cheek with your bare finger.

once.

…

twice.

…

thrice.

…

“ugh.”

you puffed, annoyed beyond compare when mattheo did not budge. there was no point in pestering him further; you’d only get angrier at his lack of reaction.

promptly straightening your back, you turned around and took a step away from his bed.

maybe you should search for a blanket on your own.

it’s not like the room was in complete darkness, the moon shining brighter than ever through the window. plus, the only logical place for mattheo to store a spare blanket was his wardrobe.

it would be easy to find.

but you completely underestimated mattheo and his dirty pig attics.

his wardrobe was a total mess. his clothes were barely folded, thrown into any drawer — multiple drawers, even. and when you tried to pull something that looked like a blanket, all soft and fluffy, the entire mountain of clothes twitched.

“hell nah.”

you immediately abandoned the so-called blanket, shoving the material back in and rapidly closing the door. challenging the monstruous wardrobe was a bad move on your part; if that thing collapsed on you, you’d have been buried in mattheo’s mess until the end of time.

should i just take the blanket he has on him now?

a devious thought crossed your mind as you were staring at the mirror-like surface of the wardrobe, shamelessly eyeing the blanket covering mattheo.

a devious thought that sounded like a splendid idea.

it wasn’t like mattheo would wake up because of it. he would most likely sleep soundly until morning, and only then he would realize someone robbed him of his precious covers. moreover, that fucker is a walking radiator himself, generating heat and burning like a fire. you’d be more appreciative of his blanket than him.

so, after making up your mind, you drew closer to his bed again. your legs inched quicker and quicker with feather-like steps, and thanks to your long pants, catching underneath your feet, any sort of floor creaking was prevented.

all that commotion with the wardrobe did nothing to mattheo — he was still fast asleep, in the same position in which you’ve found him at the beginning of your intrusion. almost drowning in the covers, it was fortunate that the blanket seems to not be trapped under him.

assessing the position of the blanket and the strange entanglement of limbs that could be lying underneath, you decided that pulling from the very middle of the material would be the best choice. dipping your body downwards, you carefully grasp the edge of the blanket, securing a good chunk of it between your grabby fingers.

and you pulled it towards you. slow. calculated.

a cheeky smiled spread on your face when the blanket slowly began to budge from its place, gliding across mattheo without perturbing his deep slumber. you could already feel the way this very blanket will solve all your issues and give you the best sleep known to man.

you barely managed to peel the blanket halfway when movement halted abruptly. you tugged and tugged at the material, some sharper tugs, some gentle tugs, but nothing happened.

“it’s stuck?”

you whisper-yelled at the sudden realization, terribly infuriated by this stupid impediment. did the blanket catch onto one of mattheo’s pillows? or was it perhaps his leg or arm?

leaning over the bed to scout the area with your eyes, you momentarily lessen your grip on the covers. mattheo was surely too far gone into dreamland to notice your looming figure, so you could survey the area in peace and decide your next move.

yet, with your guard lowered down, a new, foreign arm joined in.

sneaking fastly around your torso and dragging you into the bed, underneath the blanket.

“fuck!” a mere curse word managed to escape from your lips before the strong pull stole your breath away. “you awake?” a half-muttered rhetorical question left your mouth immediately after, your entire body twitching and turning in mattheo’s lazy grasp, trying to escape and assess the new situation.

“shhh, too loud.”

a deep, rumbling voice broke your exasperated protests, snapping you out of your frenzy and bringing your entire attention back to the person next to you. and the proximity between you two.

he was awake. and really close.

“settle down.”

mattheo’s voice was heavy with sleep, his words half-murmured against your forehead. you could feel the warm breath fanning across your face, and if you tried hard enough you could feel his lips themselves brushing over your skin.

“no, let me–”

your little complaints began again, this time fueled by the dangerously short distance between your two bodies. to make matters worse, you were facing each other; mattheo’s face was resting a bit higher than yours, yet still too close to your liking.

you were burning with embarrassment, struggling to free yourself, while he was still as serene as ever.

“–go.”

despite his gentle expression and his half-lidded eyes, true signs of drowsiness, mattheo sharply disobeyed your commands and tightened his grasp around your waist, pulling you even closer.

“ah, wait.”

you had no time to react, your nose bumping into his hard chest in mere seconds. his warm body instantly ignited your cold one, and you subconsciously buried your face deeper, nuzzling against his skin.

skin?

skin.

bare, hot, unmistakable skin.

you abruptly stopped, face slowly backing away from his body to confirm that he was indeed shirtless — to confirm that your poor tired mind was not playing tricks on you.

“matty?”

you whispered his name, testing whether he has already succumbed to the heaviness of sleep. if he did, there was no point in confronting him. you’d just sneak away and back into your roo–

“hm?”

but he was still awake. his hum of approval was low, barely above a whisper, but thanks to your closeness, you felt the vibrations of his vocal cords shoot through his chest.

“you’re shirtless.”

you hoped a reminder of his bare torso would make him back off, instill some distance between you two. heck, maybe even make him let you go. but mattheo only smirked at your statement, a slight peek of his marble teeth shining together with the moonlight.

contrary to your expectations, mattheo dipped his head downwards, traversing from your forehead lower and lower and lower. his lips made a short stop right above your mouth, and that’s when panic surged inside you.

what is he thinking?

your arms, which were peacefully resting alongside your body, sprung upwards and landed right onto his chest. palms flat against his hot skin, you pushed mattheo with all your might, trying to regain some distance.

but he wouldn’t move.

“mattheo, what–”

he continued his journey, trailing lower, totally ignoring your baffled state. leaving your lips empty, he settled down right against your ear. and, with a low whisper, he corrected your previous sentence.

“i’m naked.”

oh.

your hands completely stilled on his chest. no. your entire body froze up, too stunned by the revelation. only your eyes widened in shock, eyebrows jumping upwards and curving into two crescent moons.

“no. nonononono. no.”

whether he was joking or not, you did not want to stay further and find out. mattheo was your roommate, for fuck’s sake, and even the fact that you were in bed with him was bad. but if he was indeed naked??

you had to get away fast.

pushing at his chest and twisting around, you managed to turn your back to mattheo and even sneak one of your legs outside the blanket.

mattheo might be strong, but he was still sleepy — if you act fast enough, you’d surely escape from his arm.

your plan was good, and with the way your second leg was flying away from the clutches of the blanket, you were sure it will succeed.

sadly, you did not take into consideration mattheo’s second arm.

his other arm dropped across your middle, gliding across your sides like a snake and securely gripping at your body. and slowly, any sort of progress you made dissipated, your body now dragged back in its initial place.

“why run, baby?”

he chuckled against your cheek, low and wrecked with sleep, sending a pulse of heat straight to your core.

“you wanted warmth, no?” his voice was full of arrogance, and you could feel the way his lips curled against your skin in a devious grin.

with both of his arms nicely wrapped around you, mattheo pulled you into him fully. your clothed back hit his chest, all warm and fuzzy, while your lower body made contact with his solid crotch.

something sheltered itself between your asscheeks, and by its twitchiness, it was definitely not his leg.

“i will make you warm all over.”

it was a mistake to tiptoe into his room. it was a mistake to steal his blanket.

it was a mistake to underestimate a sleeping mattheo.

now you were at his mercy.

“ah, matty…”

being engulfed by his warm body did make your hotter. suddenly, your long-sleeved pajamas were too much; the material was itchy and suffocating, making you pant and whine for your clothes to be discarded.

nonetheless, the raising in temperature was not solely due to the covers and mattheo’s body heat — it was also due to your own lustful desire stirring your insides, making you boil with need.

“yeah, baby?”

mattheo knew. he could feel your body quivering against him, he could feel your ass involuntarily pushing against his cock. he could feel the way your hands clutch at his, desperately guiding them underneath the hem of your blouse.

fuck, his sweet roommate needed him.

his hands slid upwards underneath your blouse, warm calloused palms gliding across your tummy all the way to your bare chest. his fingers touched around attentively, waiting for a positive cue from you.

and when a small needy whimper left your lips, he fully cupped your tits in his hands.

“shit, so soft.”

he groaned against your neck, voice all gravel yet honeyed, half-sweet, half-sinful. his lips peppered open-mouthed kisses across your skin, wetting every exposed patch in his wake. his digits, skillful and eager, pinched and pulled at your nipples, teasing them into stiff peaks.

your cute moans of pleasure only stirred him on, and with each and every squeeze of your tits came a snappy thrust of his shaft into your meaty ass.

“you getting warmer, baby?”

each word was punctuated by a short nibble of your skin, his teeth grazing at your neck, hard enough to pleasure, yet not enough to hurt.

he didn’t need an actual response, really; he could feel your body heat — now matching his own temperature — and he could also feel arousal bubbling inside you.

“y–yes.”

your answer was weak, drowned in breathy whines, too overwhelmed by mattheo and his restless attacks. his palms continued their ministration on your boobs, fondling them to his very whim, while his cock drilled faster and faster against your pajama pants, getting them all sticky and wet with precum.

the back of your pants were not the only ones drenched. your panties were long ruined, arousal pooling into them wave after wave from the moment mattheo pulled you underneath the covers.

at the beginning, you tried to resist temptation, but right now you were fully succumbing to lust, clenching your thighs together and pushing back into your roommate.

“m–more.”

you needed more. you needed to feel his hands touch all over your body, to ignite every inch of your skin.

to make you burn raw with desire.

your plea, oh so tiny and broken, made mattheo’s hips jut upwards into your ass faster. a plethora of curses escaped his wet lips as he slowly but surely realized how you had him wrapped around your finger.

your wandering hands reached his own underneath your shirt and, with delicate moves, you now guided them downwards to the hem of your pants.

and, to seal the deal and make mattheo complete putty, you threw the prettiest blown-out eyes at him, silently asking for him to go further.

“f–fuck, baby, i can’t resist you.” his voice cracked against your skin, as even saying the words cost him restraint.

his fingers fumbled at your waist, clumsily pushing the waistband of your pajamas down to your knees. when the pads of his digits encountered your panties, they were immediately hooked and dragged lower too, joining your pants.

“oh, baby, oh, baby, oh, babyyy.”

he started chanting the pet name like a mantra the moment his eyes got a hold of your glistering pussy, all warm and sticky, and so so inviting. and he gladly took the invitation, glossing his fingers between your folds and gathering your arousal, only to stick up his hand and admire the web-like formation of precum.

“so fucking wet, d–damn.”

he breathed it like a prayer, forehead dropping against your shoulder for a moment, so aroused by the reactions of your body. but he had no time to soak into the feeling as he felt your plush, naked ass press against his own bare cock, so impatient and needy.

“mattyyy.”

your mind was foggy, clouded with the thought of immediate release. your hips shifting back into mattheo so deliciously was a clear bodily reaction, and he could see that as well.

as much as he wanted to thrust right into your sloppy hole and fuck you senseless, he couldn’t.

“c–can’t, baby. i don’t have a condom.”

it was difficult to hold back, it really was. to have his gorgeous roommate in his arms, half-naked and begging for dick — that was his ultimate fantasy. yet here he was, cock heavy and throbbing against your ass, refusing to fuck you without a condom.

“but matty–”

“safe sex is ah–… important, baby.”

fuck safe sex, you wanted to scream at him, the achiness between your legs growing stronger and stronger. but mattheo took you by surprise once again, repositioning his wandering hand back on your cunt and slowly circling his digits over your pulsing clit.

“but i will take care of you.”

the sensation was so powerful that your head was thrown back against his chest, a sharp moan elicited from your previously pouting lips. no longer pursed in dissatisfaction, your mouth hanged open, overflowing with whines and moans.

“it feels good, baby, hm?”

“yes, yes, yes, ahhh…”

your voice was high and ruined, hips rutting mindlessly against mattheo’s hand as he played with your swollen bud. his pace was sloppy and wavering, his concentration deterring because of his own needs. his cock, leaking with precum, was still chasing relief between your asscheeks.

but he too wanted more.

“got you all messy and wet…” he mumbled, ragged breath fanning on your skin. “yet i can’t even fuck you properly.”

the arm around your torso tightened, dragging you closer to his crotch. his ministration on your clit got rougher, now matching the desperate ruttings of his own hips.

he wanted so bad to move your leg to the side and just plunge in. he wanted so bad to twist you around and have you spread open across his bed, legs dangling off his shoulders as he restlessly pounds into you.

his cock continued to bully the fat of your behind, leaving a sticky shimmery trail all over it, as he keeps imagining the many ways he could have you if only he had a condom on him.

if only there was an alternative to–

there was.

“baby, let me fuck your pretty thighs.”

he rasped quickly, short of breath, proud of his genius idea. his fidgety hand immediately jumped on your thigh, fingers digging into the plush fat and making it jiggle slightly.

“they’re warm and soft… i will rub your clit, make you cum together with me.”

his other hand resumed its movement on your cunt, poking and prodding at your clit in an attempt to convince you to accept his offer.

“o–okay.”

you hiccupped, voce hazy and dripping with need. you slightly parted your thighs, inviting mattheo to insert his cock. and he wasted no time, thanking you for your cooperation and sliding between your thighs swiftly.

and when you closed them around his cock, squishing it nicely, he though his body ascended to heaven.

“my gooood girl.”

mattheo groaned low at the friction your soft skin provided, hugging his shaft tight and warm. then he moaned louder, his cock grazing past your drenched folds and your quivering hole. he almost gave up and changed the angle, pushing into your cunt, but he stilled himself and completed his thrust, his tip peeking out, red and dripping, on the other side.

“you’re amazing, fuck.”

and with that, mattheo started a stable rhythm of his hips, pulling and pushing against your thighs and using them like a cunt. he also kept his promise, rubbing your pretty little clit and giving you that well-deserved pleasure.

“mattyyy.”

his urgent and sharp thrust affected you as well. you were sobbing now, teetering on the edge, your whole body trembling from the pressure on your clit and the constant bullying of mattheo’s cock against your folds.

“i know, baby, me too.”

he only cooed at you, speeding up his thrusts between your thighs, fingers rubbing with more vigour against your clit.

but it wasn’t sufficient.

you needed more.

you needed him inside.

“matty– inside–… i need you inside.” you babbled between sobs, twisting your neck to gaze at him and enchant him a second time that night.

“r–raw, please, raw.”

his entire body shuddered at your plea, arms stiffening tightly against you. he resisted you the first time, but now? with his own release so close?

fuck.

he cursed viciously under his breath, his self-control on the verge of snapping completely.

“y–you sure? i w–won’t be able to stop.”

if you agree, he will conform. and he hoped you–

“please, matty. i need you.”

with a feral growl, mattheo shifted, guiding the fat head of his cock to your soaking entrance. and he pushed in without a second thought, the tip stretching you out deliciously, warmly welcomed by your hungry cunt.

both of you moaned — loud, primal, shameless.

he bottomed out in one long, shaking thrust, his hips drawn to yours like a magnet. your gummy walls latched onto him like a vice, sucking his cock and hardly letting it go.

“so fucking good, baby. fuckfuckfuckk.”

he pulled out only halfway before slamming back in, setting a brutal pace that had your thighs shaking. your hands were clawing at the sheets, hanging onto them for dear life.

you were close.

you were both so close.

he only had a few more thrusts in him — he could feel it building up in his gut, tightening unbearably.

“gonna fill you up, baby.”

mattheo groaned into your shoulder, hips jerking faster, harder. his fingers were also frantic against your clit, wishing to push you off the edge at the same time.

“please, want you in me.” you whimpered, arching into him, voice broken yet sweet.

his body trembled — a half-muttered call of your name managed to get out before his sturdy hands grabbed your hips, digging his fingers hard into your skin to keep you still.

you gasped together as he buried himself deep, cock splitting you open one last time before spurts of cum spilled inside you. your pussy fluttered around him like it wanted to seal in every last drop, joining his orgasm.

for a few moments, the world was just panting, sweaty skin, tangled limbs, and the slow, sticky drip of him leaking out of you.

mattheo didn’t pull out. he couldn’t.

he just wrapped himself around you tighter, peppering you with lazy kisses.

"warm enough now, baby?" he murmured against your skin, cocky even in his exhaustion.

you could only giggle weakly, shortly glancing at the blanket that started all this, half-hanging off the bed, forgotten.

"yeah, matty," you whispered, settling back into his embrace. "more than enough."

©dearmisshoney 2025. do not copy, translate, or claim any of my writings or works as your own.

tags: @downbad4reid, @cafechichay, @lov3notts

#mattheo riddle one shot #smut

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inthelibraryrecs · 1 month ago

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when you drop dinner off at the hospital... ᭝ ᨳଓ ՟

warnings — age gap, sneaking around, semi-public sex, oral (f. receiving), praising

꒰ — dbf!doctor!rafe x sugar!reader m.list ꒱

“hey sweetie, what are you doing here?” your dad greeted when he noticed you. “figured i’d bring you some dinner since you’re working the overnight shift tonight,” you gestured to the tupperware in your hands. “you didn’t have to do that,” he chuckled, “i know, but i wanted to, besides, i know how crazy the hospital gets during this time of the year,” you shrugged.

“yeah, the holidays tend to do that or make people do crazy things,” he snorted, carefully taking the tupperware and tucking it under his arm. your ears perked at a familiar voice, and your eyes landed upon rafe, your dad's best friend, who was already looking in your direction while talking to one of the nurses. rafe had that same signature smirk on his face, shooting you a playful wink, and chuckling to himself when you quickly averted your attention back to your father calling you, "honey?"

"sorry dad, what were you saying?" you mumbled, hearing him sigh at the sound of his pager going off, “it's okay, honey. i was just saying that i have to go, but thank you for bringing dinner.” you smiled softly, nodding as he planted a kiss on your forehead, “i’ll see you at home, alright?”

after he rounded the corner, you looked back to find that rafe was nowhere to be seen before you started heading down the hallway to get to the elevator. just as you were about to pass one of the supply closets, a hand reached out, encircling your wrist and yanking you into the small, confined room.

"what the hell—" you spun around, crashing right into rafe's broad chest. "rafe? why did you drag me in here?" you questioned. the older man shrugged, smirking down at you as he cupped your face in his large hands, "thought you'd be happy to see me, sugar."

"i am, but what if someone saw you dragging me in here?," you argued. "you worry too much, you know that?" rafe chuckled, earning a playful smack to the chest, "yeah, for good reasons."

“you need to stop worrying so much, it’s not good for your pretty little head,” his thumbs caressed your cheeks. he gently pulled your face closer as he dipped his head down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. you melted like putty in his hands, your hands grabbed at his scrub top, balling it into your fists to pull him closer.

“see? isn’t that better?” rafe hummed, kissing along your jaw to your neck. “a little, still doesn’t explain why you dragged me in here,” you pointed out, moaning softly when he nipped at your flesh. "maybe i'm just hungry too," he muttered against your skin. "what—" you watched as he lowered himself to his knees, his hands pushing your skirt, causing it to hike around your waist.

“fuck, haven’t even touched you and you’re already soaking through this little thing,” he groaned, his fingers hooking into your panties, tugging it down till it pooled around your ankles. he helped you step out of them before pocketing them into his scrub pants, “gonna need something to help me get through the rest of this shift.”

you lean your back against the shelves in the closet as he nudged your thighs further apart. “fuckin’ missed this sweet little pussy,” rafe groaned, his tongue running through your slick folds to your puffy clit.

"oh—" you hiccuped, his tongue circling your clit, sucking the sensitive bud into his mouth, making you sink your teeth into your bottom lip to muffle your moans. you looked down at him with heavy-lidded eyes, and saw he was already looking up at you. his nails dug into the skin of your hips, pulling you closer as the tip of his tongue flicked at your clit, moving to prod at your entrance.

you forgot how good he was at this, but he's never failed to make you cum from his tongue alone. small, desperate pants slipped from your lips as he ate you out like you were his last meal. "missed tasting you on my tongue, sugar. taste as sweet as you look," rafe moaned against your cunt, his tongue delved into your cunt. "fuck, rafe," you whined, his nose grinding against your poor clit as you rut your hips, grinding against his mouth desperately.

your legs started to tremble as you felt the familiar knot forming in your stomach. "oh fuck...'m gonna cum," you whimpered pathetically, your hand clutching the back of his head. "yeah? you''re gonna cum all over my tongue? c'mon, princess, just let go," he groaned, sucking your sensitive bud back into his mouth harshly,

you quickly clamped your hand over your mouth as a cry erupted from your throat, pure bliss washing over you. rafe watched in awe, taking in your pleasure-ridden face, his tongue lapping at your release before pulling away to kiss along your inner thighs. he slowly stood up, helping you fix your skirt, "did so good, baby," he peppered your face with kisses.

"c'mon, let's get out of here before we actually do get caught," he whispered, carefully opening the door and peeking his head out to ensure no one was looking. you carefully stepped out behind him, "thanks for dinner, sweetness.”

taglist: @anacamofficial @kild4re @dollyfiles @rafeysvenicebitch @browniepop62 @rafesbabygirlx @chrissturnslovergirlx @heartsforvin @ilovefiction4lmen @littlelamy @nemesyaaa @rafeysangelbaby @rafesangelita @rowdydevs @rafesthroatbaby

#rafe cameron smut

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inthelibraryrecs · 1 month ago

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the quietest place

plot: when a fire tears through your apartment in the middle of the night, you’re forced to trust the firefighter who carries you and your daughter to safety. with nowhere else to go, you accept his offer of shelter—and slowly, in the stillness of his home, you begin to breathe again

CONTENT: house fire, smoke inhalation, trauma responses, implied homelessness, emotional distress, fluff at the end

@darlingshecried <3 have fun!

you don’t remember the smell of smoke at first. just the sharp scent of burnt plastic and something sour in the air, thick enough to make your nose wrinkle as you stirred awake. your baby was still asleep beside you, her tiny fists curled near her face, her lips parted with each soft breath. it was the sudden flicker of orange light bleeding under the bedroom door that made your chest seize.

at first, you thought it was just a weird dream. then came the alarms—shrill, high-pitched, piercing through your skull like a knife. you sat up fast, lungs catching on panic. your daughter stirred, confused, whining softly as the noise startled her.

“it’s okay, baby,” you whispered, already scooping her into your arms. “we’re okay, i got you, i got you…”

but the second you opened the bedroom door, heat hit you like a wall.

your breath caught. the hallway was thick with smoke, dark and rising fast, and you could see the flames at the end of it—red and violent, eating through the cheap wallpaper like it was nothing.

your instincts kicked in. stay low. cover her face. move fast.

you dropped to your knees, clutching her to your chest, the baby blanket wrapped around her little head as she started crying, her voice high and terrified.

“help!” you shouted, throat burning. “somebody help us!”

you tried the front door. wouldn’t budge. heat warped the frame. your hands shook as you fumbled with the lock, but it wouldn’t give. tears blurred your vision as the smoke thickened, your lungs screaming for air, your baby’s cries getting smaller and smaller.

and then—you heard it.

heavy footsteps. muffled shouting. the sound of a door being bashed open, wood splintering under pressure.

and then him.

he stepped into the room like something out of a movie—helmeted, suited in thick black gear, face covered except for his eyes. calm, blue, and alert.

“two in here!” he shouted over his shoulder, then looked at you. crouched low, one gloved hand outstretched. “ma’am, i need you to come with me. now.”

you couldn’t speak. couldn’t breathe. just nodded, clutching your daughter tighter as he reached for you both.

“i’ve got you,” he said, voice steady through the mask. “i promise. you’re okay.”

he picked you up like you weighed nothing. one arm under your legs, the other cradling your daughter’s back as he moved fast through the smoke, barking out directions to the other firefighters as he carried you outside, into air that felt cold and sharp against your skin.

you coughed hard, lungs scraping against your ribs. someone handed you water. someone else draped a blanket around your shoulders. your daughter was still crying, but she was breathing, reaching up to touch your face with soot-covered fingers.

“you’re okay,” you whispered again, voice shaking. “we’re okay, we’re okay…”

he crouched next to you a few minutes later, helmet off now, revealing damp blond hair and soot-streaked skin. his eyes were softer up close. tired but kind.

“i’m rafe,” he said gently. “i was the one who carried you out.”

you looked at him, not sure what to say. everything felt far away, like your brain was still stuck inside the fire.

“thank you,” you managed to whisper.

he nodded once. “you did good. keeping low, covering her face. you probably saved her life.”

your breath caught. you didn’t feel like a hero. you felt like a wreck.

he glanced over his shoulder as someone called his name, then looked back at you. “you got anyone nearby? family? friends?”

you shook your head. “just me and her.”

his jaw tightened slightly. he stood up, ran a hand through his hair, then crouched back down.

“listen,” he said after a pause. “i live ten minutes from here. i’ve got a spare room. clean bed. if you need a place for the night, it’s yours.”

you stared at him. “you don’t even know me.”

“i didn’t know you,” he corrected, “but i carried you both outta a burning building, so i figure we’ve already skipped a few steps.”

you almost laughed, but your throat still burned too much. you looked down at your daughter, who was finally starting to calm, then back at him.

“you don’t have to,” he added quickly. “i get it if you’re not comfortable. there’s a motel near the station—we could call ahead, see if they’ve got a room.”

you hesitated. every nerve in your body screamed not to trust a stranger, not with your daughter, not after everything you’d survived.

but you had nowhere else to go.

and he’d already saved your life once.

“…okay,” you whispered. “just for tonight.”

his truck was quiet. warm. you sat in the passenger seat, wrapped in the blanket, your daughter asleep against your chest, still sniffling softly every few minutes.

he didn’t talk much on the drive. just asked if you were warm enough, if your seatbelt was okay, if she needed anything. you shook your head each time, throat still too raw to speak.

his apartment was on the second floor of a building that looked newer than yours had been. it smelled like clean laundry and faint cologne. he held the door open for you, flicked on a soft light, and nodded toward the hallway.

“guest room’s down there. bathroom too. towels are clean. water heater’s strong.”

you blinked. “you sure about this?”

he shrugged, pulling off his boots. “wasn’t gonna leave you two on the curb.”

you carried your daughter to the guest room and laid her down gently on the bed. she curled onto her side instantly, thumb in her mouth, lashes still damp from crying.

you watched her for a moment, chest aching. she’d been so scared. you both had.

you didn’t realize rafe was standing in the doorway until you turned.

“you want something to wear?” he asked. “your clothes are… yeah.”

you looked down. soot and ash, fabric torn and damp with sweat. you nodded.

he returned a minute later with a faded t-shirt and a pair of flannel pants that looked soft and worn. you thanked him and shut the door.

the hot water stung at first. your skin was raw in places, smoke still clinging to your hair, your eyes. you scrubbed until you were pink, until your fingers ached, until you felt almost human again.

you didn’t cry. not in the shower. not yet.

he was in the kitchen when you came out. the shirt hung to your thighs. your daughter’s blanket was freshly washed, draped over the back of the couch.

“tea?” he asked, holding up a mug.

you nodded and sat across from him at the small kitchen table. the tea was hot and strong, and it burned your throat going down. it was the best thing you’d tasted in days.

“i don’t usually trust people,” you said quietly after a while.

rafe didn’t look surprised. just sipped his tea.

“especially not men,” you added. “especially not strangers.”

“understandable.”

“but i didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

he looked at you then. really looked at you. not in a weird way. just… like he got it. like he’d seen too many people crawl out of flames with nowhere to land after.

“you can stay here as long as you need,” he said. “i mean it.”

your fingers tightened around the mug. “i can’t pay you.”

“wasn’t asking you to.”

you didn’t know what to say to that. so you just nodded.

you didn’t sleep much that night. kept getting up to check on her, to make sure she was still breathing, still there. rafe had left a baby monitor on the nightstand—said it was from his niece. hadn’t used it in a while, but it still worked.

you listened to the sound of her soft breathing through it. in. out. safe.

your eyes didn’t close until nearly dawn.

he was already gone when you woke up. a note on the counter said he had a shift but would be back around six. there was cereal in the pantry, cartoons on the tv, and extra diapers under the sink—he’d picked some up before leaving, just in case.

you sat on the couch with your daughter in your lap, heart aching at how easily she smiled at the animated characters on screen. like nothing had happened. like she hadn’t been in your arms, screaming for her life twelve hours ago.

you buried your face in her hair and let yourself cry, finally.

not loud. not messy. just silent tears that soaked into her curls while she giggled at the screen.

he came home tired, smelling faintly of smoke and soap. his eyes scanned the room until they found you.

“everything okay?”

you nodded. “thank you for the diapers.”

he smiled. “no problem. she likes elmo, huh?”

“she’s obsessed.”

he nodded like he’d take note of that. maybe he did.

three days turned into a week.

he never pried. never asked questions you weren’t ready to answer. he just let you be. gave you space. cooked sometimes. let you use the laundry. let your daughter nap on his chest after she got comfortable enough to reach for him.

“you’re good with her,” you said one evening, watching them on the couch.

rafe shrugged. “my sister’s got twins. i babysit sometimes.”

you nodded. watched as your daughter tugged gently on his nose and made him laugh.

you hadn’t heard her laugh like that since before the fire.

you found a temporary shelter that would take you in after two weeks. filled out forms. stood in long lines. tried to ignore how heavy your feet felt as you packed the baby’s things into the bag rafe lent you.

he didn’t say much when you told him. just helped you load the car.

when you turned to say goodbye, he just looked at you with that same quiet steadiness.

“you ever need anything,” he said, “you know where i’m at.”

you nodded. “thank you, rafe. for everything.”

he looked at your daughter. gave her a little wave.

“stay safe, sweetheart.”

she smiled at him. reached for him one last time.

you let her.

you didn’t know if you’d see him again.

but a week later, when the shelter lost power in a storm, you didn’t even hesitate before calling.

he picked up on the second ring.

“you two need a place to stay?” he asked.

you swallowed. “if it’s still okay.”

“always.”

and just like before—he opened his door.

no questions asked.

just steady arms and warm light.

and a place to land.

author’s note

i really enjoyed writing this! hope uguys enjoyed <3

#rafe cameron one shot

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inthelibraryrecs · 2 months ago

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I’D RATHER HAVE YOU

✧ 𝙳𝙸𝙻𝙵!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚕𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚎𝚛!𝙽𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚢!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 ✧

✧ 𝙼𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃 | 𝚃𝙰𝙶𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃

✧ Warnings- suggestive behavior, name calling (rafe about wife)

✧ Some inspiration from @moondustbaby headcanons! Thank you 🩵 it really helped with the motivation here!

You were young and beautiful and driving yourself crazy with college classes. Being nanny was the only thing that kept you afloat in your tiny apartment and worked around your class time.

The rich families on the island would pay any amount of money to not have to worry about their kids. That’s how you ended up working for Rafe Cameron. Richest man on the island. You made $55 an hour taking care of his 3 kids.

When you interviewed, Rafe seemed nothing short of uninterested. He sat there silent staring into the glass of whiskey he was swirling in his hand. You couldn’t stop your eyes from constantly flickering over to him. All while his wife read off a list of questions that sounded like she entered - “questions to ask someone who may watch my kids” - into an ai system.

If it weren’t for their 3 kids running in and crashing the interview, you didn’t think you’d even get the job. Their youngest, Ella. She warmed up to you instantly, getting you hired on the spot.

You worked for the Cameron’s for about a month when you noticed Rafe working from home more as the time went on. You worried about your hours being cut, but I never happened. Ella was constantly stuck to your side. You watched as Rafe’s eyes always lingered to you, but you thought the stares were directed at Ella.

When the older kids were at school and Ella was down for her nap, you took the time to do your assignments at the kitchen island. Rafe would wander into the kitchen, stand a little too close and ask you what you were working on. You’d try to ignore the way you can hear him smell the scent of your shampoo or the way he leave the kitchen clearly adjusting the crotch of his pants.

When the kids would be outside playing you’d sit in the grass with a book, occasionally keeping an eye on them. Rafe would come out and sit next to you with that same glass of whiskey. His hand would slowly inch towards yours and he’d softly brush his thumb across your knuckles. You felt a flutter in your stomach and tried to play it off as best as you could.

Then came the night when everything changed. His hair was ruffled and tie was loose from a stressful day at work. His wife was god knows where with god knows who. You were at the sink cleaning up the dishes from dinner when he came and stood behind you, placing his arms on either side of you, locking you in place between him and the counter.

Your breath hitched when he leaned in and his lips grazed your neck.

“You’d be a great step mom. The kids already love you.”

“Mr. Ca-” before you could finish he cut you off again.

“My wife is a big whore. She doesn’t think I know what she does. I know. I know everything. Working on leaving her, by the way.”

You’re at a loss for words. You’re frozen in place.

“You’re a smart girl. Working hard to get places. She’s no good. Worth nothing. My kids need someone like you to look up to. I need someone like you. You feel what you do to me?”

And you do. You feel exactly what you do to him. It’s poking you in the lower back, letting you know it’s there. “I do, I feel you, Rafe.”

“God the way you say my name. Your beautiful. I promise I’ll make you mine once everything’s settled. You’ll fit right in here. I won’t make you work baby. You just study hard… and make me hard. That sound good?”

You couldn’t deny it. He was a beautiful man. You wanted him just as much as he wanted you. You were ok with waiting and that’s exactly what you were going to have to do. Just as you went to turn around the front door open and shut making you jump.

“We’ll have a moment again soon.” Rafe stood up straight and walked over to the fridge grabbing a beer walking out of the kitchen as his wife walked in not acknowledging her presence, leaving you, standing there alone with her.

Tags + some moots @rafestoothbrush @weluvwbb @itsforeverandalwayz @butterfly-ibuki @megiiite @siredbtches @bigenergy777 @aupernatural-teenwolflover @rafegf-real @skywalker0809 @snowtargaryen @kieeslove @leather-n-velvet @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @diasnohibng @slurpdew @alphabetically-deranged @whydoesthemirrorhateme @currentresidentinhell @slut-4-rafey @akobx @rafesheaven @laniirackssss @jjmaybankmylovee @slut4you @larema121 @nemesyaaa @cherrywriterrr @inthelibrarybtw @littlelamy

#blurb #rafe cameron

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inthelibraryrecs · 2 months ago

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ꨄ︎ AFTER CARE ꨄ︎

𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜

a/n: by seasons + some aus. Also my first time doing headcanons don’t judge me.

ꨄ︎ S1 Rafe - Rafe was a playboy. A fuck ‘em and leave ‘em type of guy. There’s no cuddling, no remembering of any girls names. He’s probably too high to even realize that a girl might want that. If he hooks up with a girl at a party, he’s tossing them a box of tissues from bathroom and heading straight back to the party. If they’re at his house, he’s tossing them a dirty towel from his gym bag, telling them to get dressed and leading them to the door, shutting it before they even have the chance to turn around.

ꨄ︎ S2 Rafe - Rafe would invite them over as a distraction from everything. His dead dad, the pogues, that damn cross. They’ve hooked up before but it was nothing like this time. He was rough and disassociated. When he was done he’d lay with them for a moment before taking off to the bathroom where’d they hear a sniffing sound followed by a slight sob. Then he’d walk them out with a hand on their lower back and tell them he’d call, but he’d probably just call someone else.

ꨄ︎ S3 Rafe - Rafe would be on a new high from cashing in the cross. His mindset was clearer and his brain wasn’t foggy. He’d meet her at the party he threw at Tannyhill. After he’d hold her in his arm and let her spend the night. The next morning they’d wake up and it wouldn’t feel like a burden that needed getting rid of. They would exchange number and they would leave at their own pace.

ꨄ︎ S4 Rafe - Rafe was all in. He adored his girl. He was the boss at work and in bed but the after care was all about her. He’s make sure she was cleaned up and giving a pair of his sweats and a shirt to make sure she was comfortable. They’d lay in bed together and he’d rub circles on her back as she’d get settled in her stomach. They’d stare into each other eyes until one of them drifted off into sleep first.

ꨄ︎ Dilf!Rafe - Rafe worships every part of his wife’s body. The body he fell in love with and birthed their beautiful children. After fucking her hard in every which way, per her request just like they used to before the kids, he’d fly out of bed still naked to set up a warm bath. Heading back to the bed he’d lift her into his arms so she didn’t have to walk on unsteady legs and he’d set her in the tub and slide in behind her.

ꨄ︎ Stepbro!Rafe - Rafe got her to cave again. He loved it, she secretly loved it, but she was terrified of anyone finding out and he loved to mess with her about it. He’d her in, her head on his chest, while he brushed his hands through her hair. “Y’know I love what’s going on between us so much, I could run downstairs and tell our parents right now, because I’m so proud.” He’d smile when he’d feel her breathing speed up at the thought. “Don’t worry Angel, I won’t…yet.”

ꨄ︎ Rafe with Pogue!Reader - In the heat of the moment caused by drunken flirtations all night Rafe and Pogue!Reader ended up sleeping together. They stared at the ceiling breathless, slightly laughing at what just happened. It was incredible but they’d never admit it. His hand would meet her wrist rubbing soft circles into it. Rushing out once reality set in because it was a mistake and his reputation could be on the line of that ever got out. “Keep your god damn mouth shut about this.”

ꨄ︎ Rafe with Pogue!Reader - OR he actually likes her. He found comfort in her. Aftercare with her was completely different to anything he’s ever done before. They’d take turns soothing each other. Creating a calm moment in a storm that would brew up from their secret affair. “I wish things could be different.”

ꨄ︎ Boynextdoor!Rafe - Rafe had watched her for the longest time. To finally be invited over and have all of her was a dream come true. He got his chance and he didn’t want it to end. He’d help her up and over to her bathroom, and offer to order food while she’d shower. He’d remake her bed and fluff up pillows setting up their food and putting a movie on. Comforting her for the rest of the night.

an: I love how you can see the progression Rafe goes through in the season. It’s slowly them and him not caring to her being his whole world. I need.

Tags - @rafestoothbrush @weluvwbb @itsforeverandalwayz @butterfly-ibuki @megiiite @siredbtches @bigenergy777 @aupernatural-teenwolflover @rafegf-real @skywalker0809 @snowtargaryen @kieeslove @leather-n-velvet @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @diasnohibng @slurpdew @alphabetically-deranged @whydoesthemirrorhateme @currentresidentinhell - @slut-4-rafey @akobx @rafesheaven @laniirackssss @jjmaybankmylovee @slut4you @littlelamy @nemesyaaa @inthelibrarybtw @writingroom21 @maybankslover @rafeysvenicebitch

#headcanon #rafe cameron

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inthelibraryrecs · 2 months ago

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Deep Tissue, Deep Desire

𝙲𝙴𝙾!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚞𝚜𝚎!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

Summary- Rafe has been feeling the weight of Cameron Development on his shoulders. His assistant had booked him a massage assuming that it would be good for him. Much to his dismay, it turned out to be the greatest appointment he had ever had.

Warnings- MDNI, smut (rub and tug, hand job, doggy style)

“The massage is booked tonight at 7, boss. I think it’ll be good for you. Y’know loosen up the muscles, relieve a bit of tension. No offense, but you been a bit of an ass lately.” Damian, Kelce’s younger brother, now Rafe’s assistant said to him.

Rafe threw him a stern look. “I remember what time the damn appointment is. I’ll be there.” Damian nodded and began to walk out of Rafe’s office. “Oh and Damian? Don’t think that just because you’re Kelce’s brother you can talk to me like that. I’ll have you by your neck next time.” ∘

Rafe entered the salon, checking in and grabbing the towels and robe provided to him. He was directed to the locker room and instructed to undress completely leaving him in only the towel wrapped tightly around his waist.

He made his way over to the room. Once he entered he removed his robe and got on the table faced down. He waited for about 10 min before hearing the door open and close again. He naturally moved to get up to greet you but you spoke before her could.

"Hi Mr. Cameron, I'll be taking care of you today. Don't worry about getting up, I'm used to being greeted by the backs of peoples heads."

Rafe slowly moved back to his original position. His brows furrowing at the sound of your voice. It was sweet and soft. Young, nothing like what he pictured would step into the room.

"Full body right?" you asked just to confirm.

"Uh, yeah if that's what my assistant booked." he answered trying to seem nonchalant.

"You're just gonna feel some warmth on your back from the oil, then I'll get started."

You dripped the oil along Rafe's back. The suddenness of it made him twitch, but when he felt your hands on him he melted into the feeling. God, were you skilled. You massaged every part of him, kneading out all the knots he probably had for years. He was lost in the feeling. There was no sound but the generic spa music playing in the background.

After a while, your voice broke that silence. "I'm gonna lift the towel to keep you covered and I want you to roll over onto your back."

Rafe did as he said, rolling over then leaning on his elbows to steady himself. When he looked over and locked eyes on you, his eyes widened slightly and a soft "oh" slipped from his lips. You were stunning. The person that had be practically feeling him up was stunning and now he was shy all the sudden.

You looked back at him smitten. He was a gorgeous man, chiseled jaw, abs carved by the Gods themselves, bright blue eyes. You were taken back by his beauty. There was an understanding in the stare you held on one another but neither of you said anything.

Rafe laid back down as you moved to the foot of the bed. You lifted up his towel slightly as you applied more oil to him and began working on his lower legs slowly moving your way up.

You began to knead the flesh of his thigh. Running your hands up with pressure as your knuckles graze the length of his cock. He lifted his at you and a smirked flashed across his face. After meeting his eyes, you look back down pretending to focus on your work, hiding the flush of red that grew on your cheeks.

“That ok, Mr. Cameron?” You ask teasingly.

“More than ok, sweetheart.”

With his confirmation, you continue to softly touch him. Your fingers on him in a way he couldn’t see coming. He was in big trouble once your hands went to each of his thighs and worked from the bottom up to his pelvic bone. He fought it. He really tried. Tried so hard until he couldn’t control it anymore.

In between his legs, right in your face, his cock got hard underneath the towel. You didn’t mind it, especially with how far it lifted the towel from his body.

“Enjoying yourself?”

Rafe was at a loss for words. He didn’t know what he felt. Ashamed? Embarrassed? What he did know what that you made him so fucking horny. “Abso-fuckin-lutely.”

That made you smile. Your hands slipped back under the towel. This time grabbing the shaft with 2 hands and slowly stroking him. Rafe’s jaw dropped open a moan escaping his throat. He rips the towel off himself, propping up on both elbows so that he can watch you work him.

You continue to touch him and when you start to feel him twitch against the palm of your hands, he grips your wrist forcing you to stop. “I need you.” Rafe mutter’s breathlessly.

He hops off the table and stalks over to you completely bare. You can’t keep your eyes off of him. All of him. When he reaches you on the other side of the table he grabs your waist and flips you around. You instinctively bend over it as he rubs a hand over your ass.

“This ok?”

You nod desperately. Desperate to feel him you can’t wait any longer. You reach back pulling your scrub pants down. “Eager, are we?” He chuckles behind you.

You feel the tip of his head rub against your folds before he swirls it around your clit. Your heads drops to the table as you bite your lips stifling a moan from escaping. Rafe slams his entire length into you not giving you anytime to react before he pulls out and slams into you again.

Rafe pushed up your shirt and took your bottle of oil and dripped it onto your lower back, watching the way it fell between the crack of your ass and how he pushed it into your soaked hole.

He was relentless in his thrusts and you’re pretty sure you drew blood from how hard you were biting down on your lip. You felt yourself tighten in the lower part of your stomach. Tightening around the length of his cock, before relief washes over you and your legs shook hard as you came. Rafe followed right after you.

He collapsed onto your back before regaining his composure and putting his robe back on as you pulled up your pants. “You take standing appointments?”

You smiled up at him. “Every Thursday 7:00 reserved for you, Mr. Cameron.”

Tags- @rafestoothbrush @weluvwbb @itsforeverandalwayz @butterfly-ibuki @megiiite @siredbtches @bigenergy777 @aupernatural-teenwolflover @rafegf-real @skywalker0809 @snowtargaryen @kieeslove @leather-n-velvet @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @diasnohibng @slurpdew @alphabetically-deranged @whydoesthemirrorhateme @currentresidentinhell @slut-4-rafey @akobx @rafesheaven @laniirackssss @jjmaybankmylovee @slut4you @nemesyaaa @inthelibrarybtw @littlelamy

#one shot #rafe cameron smut

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inthelibraryrecs · 2 months ago

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ONLINE LOVE

𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎𝚡𝙷𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝙰𝚄 𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

♥ ONLINE LOVE | 𝙸𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚍𝚞𝚌𝚎𝚍

𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎…

@rafestoothbrush @weluvwbb @itsforeverandalwayz @butterfly-ibuki @megiiite @siredbtches @bigenergy777 @aupernatural-teenwolflover @rafegf-real @skywalker0809 @snowtargaryen @kieeslove @leather-n-velvet @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @rafesgreasycurtainbangs @diasnohibng @slurpdew @alphabetically-deranged @whydoesthemirrorhateme @currentresidentinhell @slut-4-rafey @akobx @rafesheaven @laniirackssss @jjmaybankmylovee @slut4you @nemesyaaa

#rafe cameron

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inthelibraryrecs · 2 months ago

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Rafe loves to taste you

𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

Any day, any time Rafe’s mouth is on you. He loves breathing in you in. Kissing you, licking you, biting you. You’re pretty sure your scent is half perfume, half his saliva.

It doesn’t matter if you’re sitting in his truck, in the middle of a party, or curled up in his bed while the rest of the house sleeps. Even out to eat, at some point he ends up on your side of the table face deep in the crook of your neck. He does it like he needs it to live. Like the second his lips aren’t on you, something inside him starts to unravel.

Tonight, it’s late. The island’s quiet, lit up by streetlights and the distant sound of waves. You’re both half-drunk on shitty beer and each other, sitting on the hood of his car in that field that faces the ocean he always drives to when he wants to escape. You’re mid-sentence, something dumb about one of your friends, you’re not even sure anymore, because he suddenly pulls you into his lap and begins nibbling on your earlobe. Swirling his tongue in every crevice of your ear.

You lose your train of thought at the feeling. It’s invigorating. It’s made you stop wearing earrings daily just at the hope he’ll do it. And he always does. His tongue trails down your neck leaving love bites on the back of your shoulder before moving back up where he reaches your mouth.

His hand slips around the back of your neck, thumb brushing against your jaw as he deepens it like he’s got a point to prove. You swear, with Rafe, there’s no such thing as a casual kiss. It’s always a hungry, possessive thing. Like he’s trying to brand the lines of his lips onto yours.

When he pulls back, just barely, his breath fans across your cheek and he whispers, “I love kissin’ you, you know that?”

You laugh, because yeah, you do know. He kisses you like it’s the one thing in his life that makes sense.

✧༺♥༻✧

His mouth moves rough and slow, then fast, then slow again, like he’s trying to mess with your head. His tongue licks into your mouth, deliberate and teasing, like he wants to taste every sound you’re trying to hold back. And then he bites your bottom lip, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make you gasp against him. That cocky little smirk spreads across his face before he drags his mouth down your neck again.

“You drive me insane,” he mutters between kisses, tongue tracing the spot he just bit, teeth grazing your skin like he’s deciding whether to mark you for real. “You know that, right?”

You arch against him as his hands slide under your shirt, palms hot, fingertips rough from weight lifting and fights and whatever else he gets into when you’re not around. But here? Like this? He’s focused on one thing only.

“I could kiss you all night,” he says, lips brushing your collarbone, voice low and raspy. “Lick you till you forget your name. Leave you covered in me.”

And the way he says it, like it’s a promise, not a threat, you know he means every word.

✧༺♥༻✧

His mouth drops to the tops of your breasts. He sucks on them roughly leaving a few bruises behind. You let out a moan, alerting him.

“You like when I do that?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper as he moves back in. His breath is warm, and when his tongue flicks over your skin there, you shiver, you can’t help it.

You nod, and that’s all the answer he needs. His laugh is low, cocky, but not mean. He’s proud of himself, proud of how easily he can unravel you.

“I could stay here forever,” he murmurs, tugging your shirt down a little more. “Just kissin’ and bitin’ and makin’ you squirm.”

His fingers press into your hips to keep you still, like he’s the one losing control, and you’re the only thing grounding him.

Then he pulls back, eyes locked on yours, lips shiny and swollen from everything he's just done to you.

“You drive me fucking crazy,” he says again, almost like a confession. Then, softer, “But I’m not done with you yet.”

And you believe him because with Rafe, the heat never really dies down. It just simmers until the next spark.

tags <3

#rafe cameron one shot

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inthelibraryrecs · 2 months ago

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ok but first or second year resident flirting with jack’s wife knowingly or unknowingly that she’s jack’s wife and jack is losing it over the whole thing and keeps giving the newbie death stares from across the room whenever the newbie is near is wife and dana sees this all go down from the nurses station and just prepares for jack to go ape if the newbie crosses a line

rookie mistake | dr. jack abbot

pairing: jack abbot x f!attending!wife!reader

warnings: language, age gap (unspecified, but reader is late 20s/early 30s and jack is mid/late 40s), jack defends you because you are his lovely wife <3

word count: 1.8k

notes: if you are under 18 do not interact with my work or this fic. ANON THANK YOUUUU FOR THIS REQUEST <3 i adored this one <3 this is a continuation of ring of fire set in the future, but it's not necessary to read to understand this fic. if you would like to, though, you can find that here <3 not proofread so apologies for any errors!

on monday, you resign yourself to cut the newbie some slack. i mean, alex doesn't know, and if he did, you're almost certain that he would knock that shit off immediately. but... there's a small part of you that finds it a little bit amusing. and maybe you should be good and hold your hand up and say the words that would make any wise man run far, far away: "sorry, kid. you know your attending? yeah, that's my husband."

but that would just be too easy.

tuesday, you're ultimately surprised by the gumption that he has to continue to flirt with you. he says your name like he's purring it, and you can't help but scrunch your nose up slightly, looking up at the board to see where your skills are most needed. the amusement has mostly dissipated, being followed by a certain brand of annoyance that only a twenty five year old boy can draw out of you.

you roll your head to look at your forty nine year old man, coming out of the trauma that had come in thirty minutes ago, only to find that his gaze is already on you. his cheeks are slightly red, hands on his hips, eyebrows screwed up in that way that indicate to you that he's weighing his options about what the best course of action is, here. you wave at him with your fingers, and the new resident, alex, follows your gaze. he gives a big toothy grin to your attending and it takes everything within you to keep your face as neutral as possible. "man, abbot's a cool fuckin' dude," he says under his breath with a truly earnest reverence, and it almost makes you feel bad. almost.

"he's the best of us," you say, and it's entirely truthful. you can tell that jack is still cued in on your conversation. you slide your glance back over to him and wink before you look back to alex.

"yeah." he doesn't take a beat to look back at you with that unbridled hunger that he had been throwing your way through both of the shifts you'd worked together. "so. what're you doing after all of this?"

with raised eyebrows, you shrug your shoulders. "i have an idea or two." he looks just a hair too excited, and your face drops. "not like that. you know, if you want to be a doctor, you do need to actually have an attention for detail." you raise your left hand, revealing the gold band that you wear when you're working. “less flirting. more charting. go.”

when you look over at abbot with a slight exasperation, he just raises one eyebrow at you, and offers a tentative thumbs up– almost a question.

you give him a thumbs up back.

–

the next day, alex was going around to every person that you both worked with, attempting to get intel on you, and your love life.

dana scoffs when she hears the words come out of his mouth. “i mean, he can’t be all that. there’s no way he’s better than me. i was a diver at duke! i had a full ride!” the words are said with such true arrogance that even dana has to laugh.

“oh, kid, if only you knew.” she claps him on the shoulder and points her finger at him. “i’m only gonna tell you this once, alright– after that, you’re on your own. and don’t say i didn’t warn you.” she looks at him down the bridge of his nose– a remarkable feat, considering alex is nearing 6’1. “you don’t want to try your luck. you feel me?”

“but–”

“ah– what did i just say? you don’t want to try your luck. believe me.” she claps that same shoulder again. “and if you do, i knew nothing, and had nothing to do with it.”

you lean against the counter, very obviously eavesdropping, not like you really care– when abbot slides up beside you. he looks over his shoulder at alex, who is, of course, already looking at you. when he meets abbot’s gaze, his eyes go wide and he turns right around, going back to north-11 to finish up with the norovirus patient that jack had put him on. following jack’s line of sight, you can’t help but smirk as you watch alex take in a big gulp of air, slap a mask on, and step into what you’re sure is a hell made entirely of shit and vomit.

“you know,” you say lowly, your elbow brushing jack’s. “that is just mean.”

“all interns get a noro case when they come in,” he says seamlessly, looking between the board and the patient notes that he’s trying to wrap up. “it’s textbook.”

“his first day was three days ago. you usually give it at least a couple of weeks before you start sticking them on noro or food poisoning.”

“not all interns flirt with my wife, relentlessly, in front of me.” jack puts his undivided attention on you.

“oh my god.” you’re smirking. you’re smirking, wide, at your computer. when you look over at jack, you say, “you’re not seriously jealous of the kid?”

“it’s about respect.”

“i don’t think he’s even picked up on us yet. which is hilarious, in and of itself.” you finish up with your chart and put a hand on your hip. “no one’s telling him.”

“he keeps this shit up, he’ll be hearing it from me.”

you hum and pat your hand on his chest. he catches it, his thumb rubbing at the ring you wear. “you’re sexy when you’re jealous,” you say under your breath, close enough to him that you can get away with a little workplace flirting.

“i’m not jealous.”

–

he is jealous.

he’s jealous when he watches this kid– yeah, you may only be five years older than him, but he doesn’t linger on that fact too long– blatantly flirt with you. he gets jealous when alex leans in slightly towards you during shift, just a little too close than is friendly while you review patient notes and ongoing care. but then, he watches you do your little semi-awkward shuffle to the left, and he can’t even help his smirk. and then you look over your shoulder, make this face that says, can you believe this guy? and suddenly, it’s not that he’s jealous. it’s just that he loves you.

but then, on that thursday, alex touches you.

at first, you don’t even notice what he’s done. a little piece of hair has fallen into your eyes out of the tortoiseshell clip that you love so much– the one that jack picked up for you at a cvs because he knows how much you love tortoiseshell. and it’s so faint that you barely even register it. but it doesn’t matter. because you may not have realize, but jack certainly has.

alex’s hand hasn’t even dropped from where he’s tucking that loose piece of hair behind your ear when jack surges up, dana hot on his heels. “woah, woah, woah, let’s all cool it–” dana starts, but it’s no use.

jack puts a firm hand on alex’s shoulder, squeezing tighter than necessary. certainly firm enough to drive home his point. “hey, buddy,” jack says lowly, just enough so that alex can hear him loud and clear, without causing a scene that draws the attention of the entire emergency department. he has that sort of simmering intensity that always makes something swirl in your belly. “look, i’ve tried to be cool, man. i really have. but i’m only going to tell you this one time before i pull in a favor with gloria so that you complete your residency somewhere else. keep those grubby fucking hands off of my wife.”

mortification is an understatement for what you assume alex must be feeling. his face is beet red, eyes darting between you and abbot so fast you’d want to get him in for a head CT if he kept it up any longer. “i– holy shit– i did not know.”

“i know you didn’t,” jack says with a resolute nod. “but now you do. so keep your hands to yourself and we won’t have a problem.” he pats alex’s back once, and you cover your mouth with one hand and peer over at dana with wide eyes. she, can only shrug, roll her eyes, put her readers back on, and turn back to the charge desk. “go get a sandwich from the bin and take ten minutes. go.”

alex looks at you and you feel bad, almost. you smile at him and say, “next time, if a woman says she’s not interested… take it at face value, before jack abbot has to get involved.”

“yes, ma’am. it will not happen again.” alex gives one last nod to jack, like a nervous teenage boy, before he’s off running towards the staff lounge with his tail between his legs.

jack rubs a hand over his face. you bite down on your lip, look at him, and you start to chuckle. soon, jack’s laugh begins to mix with yours, coalescing until you’re leaning against the charge desk with tears clouding your vision, his dimples fully out and on display.

“man,” he says, shaking his head. “i feel a little bad.” he says, his laughter still holding him by the sleeve, begging to tug him back under.

“you should be. you’re scary,” you say while his thumb catches one of the stray tears on your cheek.

he snorts. “i’m about as scary as a kitten.”

“i dunno. i think our friend would beg to differ.” you lean into him and squeeze his arm before you force yourself to pull away– you like to exude some semblance of professionalism at work. even if the thing you want to do is drag your husband to the on-call room and ravage him for defending your honor.

“yeah, well. guess i reserve it for special circumstances.” he crosses his broad arms over his chest and looks you, up and down. they land on your face and soften. “i love you, kid.” the way he calls you kid, versus alex, makes your chest squeeze. an old habit from your residency, a reminder of where you were and how far you've come now.

the fondness that you feel for him never gets smaller. the longer you've been with him, from that time where you were his resident, smoking weed on his living room floor and wondering if there was a world where this could all work... the thing that always remained true and steady was how much you liked jack. right down to his bones, you liked him.

how can you capture that all in a sentence?

you don't know. but you settle on, "i love you," emphasis on the most important word there is.

#jack abbot one shot

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inthelibraryrecs · 2 months ago

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every fic, one-shot, thought, anything that involves rafe being down bad for his girl is always my favorite.

like the thought of her not having the ring was enough for him to lose his mind (with reason) and now he will get her another one because he needs to see her with his ring on her finger.

so anyway I was thinking about something about bitchy!Kook!reader (since she's my ultimate favorite)

maybe rafe has gifted her a promise ring at some point in their relationship, and despite all their highs and lows, even in their worst nights, she has NEVER taken it off

and maybe they are in a heated argument and they're mad at each other (but not broken up, just mad) and they are attending a party and he notices that she isn't wearing it, so he loses his absolute shit and drags her somewhere, making a scene and telling her how much he cares about her (in his own way, ofc) and how hurt he is until she simply smirks and tells him that she's taken it off because she's getting it cleaned up

-🦉

warnings: arguing, slight angst, light fluff

a/n: join my private community for girly talks! ♡ you can comment under this post, send me a message, or leave something in my ask box for an invitation!

“can you fix your face? ‘at least try to act like you want to be here with me right now?” rafe whispered in your ear, a slight pinch of irritation lacing his tone. you swallowed thickly, flashing him a glare as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders so he wouldn’t draw any unnecessary attention towards you two. “i told you i wanted to leave a long time ago and instead of wrapping things up, you disappeared for another drink. i’ve been sitting here on this couch with you for over two hours now, listening to your idiot friends talk about their latest escapades. how about you fix your fucking face?”

rafe looked around to make sure no one caught any of the words that just left your mouth, his jaw clenching as he gripped you by the back of your neck. “is that how you’re gonna act right now? that’s what we’re doing?” at this, you trailed a hand down rafe’s stomach, your nails digging into his flesh hard enough to make him hiss and let go of you. “grab me like that again and i’ll leave your ass in front of everybody.” rafe knew that wasn’t an empty threat, considering you’ve already done it before and topper still hasn’t let him live the embarrassment down.

rafe gave you a curt nod, his eyes raking down your form before they rested on your bare fingers. “what the fuck?” he spoke out loud, the group conversation coming to a halt. without another word, rafe got up, dragging you along with him as he guided you two outside to his truck. “oh, now you wanna go home?” you scoffed, managing to pull away from him before he hoisted you into the passenger’s seat, his body wedged between the door as he took ahold of your hands. “i know we’ve been fighting a lot recently, and i’m sure we get on each other’s nerves all the time, but taking off your ring? are you fucking serious?”

your eyebrows knitted in confusion, your mouth barely opening before rafe started going on a rampage. “i bought you that ring to uphold a promise to you, y/n, and i’ve kept it. through all of our bullshit, through all of our problems, through damn near everything; you’ve never taken that ring off. even when we were close to leaving each other once and for all, you were still wearing it. that ring saved us, and now? you’re just giving up like that?” rafe sounded pained, his voice dropping slightly as his chest rose and fell in uneven breaths. “rafe—” you tried to interject again, but still he continued.

“i love you, and i know i fucking suck at showing it, but you know i do. you’re the only person who puts up with my shit and still loves me as i am. you work with me even though i make it really hard, and you don’t throw my mistakes in my face every chance you get. you’re patient with me when i least deserve it.. i could go on and on about everything you do for me.. please just put your ring back on.” you weren’t expecting rafe to pour his heart out to you, your anger from earlier dissipating into nothing as your gaze softened. “i can’t—” rafe groaned, kneeling down onto the step bar of the truck as he held your hands to his chest.

“why?!” you couldn’t help but laugh, your resolve crumbling as rafe looked up at you desperately. “what’s so funny? i’m literally about to have a panic attack right now.” you laughed harder, shaking your head. “rafe, i’m getting my ring cleaned! i’ve been trying to tell you since you dragged me out here but you kept interrupting me.” your boyfriend let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, his shoulders falling in relief. “when did you take it?” you helped him off his knees, rolling your eyes as he pulled you into his embrace. “remember, i told you i was going to the mall with chanel? i dropped it off there and i’m supposed to go back for it tomorrow..”

rafe nodded, his hands running up and down your back. “well, we better get you another ring for when you’re getting the other one cleaned. i can’t have you giving me heart attacks like that.”

#rafe cameron one shot #rafesangelita

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inthelibraryrecs · 2 months ago

Text

I have read a couple of this and I'm so excited to read all of them. I have a lot of pairs I love but I'm a sucker for anything related best friends or childhood friends.

I will be reading this to decompress on my very stressful week

unspoken claim (masterlist!)

rafe cameron x childhood friend! reader

| summary | you and rafe have been friends since your diaper days, but unbeknownst to you, it’s an unspoken truth to everyone on the island that you’re his

"well when you say it like that, it does sound crazy"

"that's just the way i talk, actually."

⋆｡𖦹 °.🐚⋆❀˖°

requests are always open!

❤︎ fluff | ♦︎ angst | �� smut

one shots!!!

the boneyard

no need to knock ❤︎

routine ❤︎

not funny

rafe tries to cook ❤︎

helping out ★ part 2 part 3

needy

bruised and bloody ♦︎

their first time ★

rafe's addiction ♦︎

beach day ★

the photobook ❤︎

no shame ★

birthday special ❤︎

not a date ♦︎

headcannons!!!

rafe's love language

rafe loves to spoil reader

a glimpse into their past

little acts of service

just for them

other!!!

why rafe calls reader kid

#rafe cameron #masterlist

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inthelibraryrecs · 2 months ago

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love me a possessive man, I need to finish Bar Down because this two are one of my favorites for sureeee

can we see hockey rafe get jealous when pop star reader has to do a intimate music video with another male costar?!

Hi bb!!!! Ahhh of course 🤭🩷💕

+18 -> smut | rafe is a hockey player for the LA King’s and his gf (reader) is a popstar 💕🤭

𝓱𝓸𝓬𝓴𝓮𝔂!𝓻𝓪𝓯𝓮 𝓬𝓪𝓶𝓮𝓻𝓸𝓷 𝔁 𝓯𝓮𝓶𝓪𝓵𝓮 𝓹𝓸𝓹𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓻!𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻

c/w: ownership, pet names, swearing, heavy praise, possessive rafe, unprotected p in v, multiple orgasms, rafe talks you through it, overstim., pov shift for the smut, + female oral receiving

*world’s okayest goalie = kelce*

𝓻𝓪𝓯𝓮’𝓼 𝓹𝓸𝓿 𖤐ᝰ.ᐟ𖦹₊⊹

I’ve made a mistake. I should’ve stayed outside. Let someone else deliver this. I never should’ve walked in because—there she is.

My girl. The love of my life. My everything. Looking like that… Fuck me.

She looks like an angel and sin all twisted together, just dancing, loose and casual, like she has no idea she’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my whole fucking life. She hasn’t seen me yet. Which, in the large scheme of things, is probably a good thing because now I’m watchin’ her like I might rip someone’s head off. Especially his.

He’s sittin’ across the set in a chair like he owns it, legs spread and elbows on his knees, pretending to scroll on his phone, but I can see right through it. He’s not texting. He’s watching her, eyes tracking her like he’s trying not to stare but doing a terrible fucking job of it. He bites his cheek and glances around like he’s trying to play it cool.

He’s got that look… the kind reserved for me. For my face. For my eyes when I look at my girl.

I know what she does to people. She walks into a room, and everything shifts. She’s cute, sexy, and sweet, all wrapped in one. I swear she has no idea what she does when she smiles at someone. When she tips her head, her eyes all twinkly. God forbid she laughs… It’ll be game over.

She still hasn’t noticed me, but he has—and he’s not lookin’ away. His smirk? Fuckin’ smug. I could strangle him.

��Cause that’s not fucking insane. What the fuck am I saying?

I take a deep breath, looking up at the ceiling, the sweat of my palms marrying with the condensation on her drink. I clench my jaw and force myself to breathe.

I’m not insecure. I’m not. I know she loves me, but watching some golden-boy, ex-football-playing Abercrombie reject eye-fuck her on set… Yeah. Yeah, I’m losin’ it. He shifts in his seat, slow and casual, but I swear, if he adjusts his pants one more time while looking at her, I’m—

“Baby!” She bubbles, and before I can even process the whiplash of my dark thoughts and her noticing me, I’ve got an arm around her waist and my mouth on hers. Hard. Not gentle, not slow… just mine.

Her nails scratch into my hair, and her chest presses flush against mine. She melts into it instantly, humming softly into my mouth. She smiles against my lips, making my stomach flutter.

“Hey, baby,” she whispers, breathless and sweet. “I missed you.”

I pull back just enough to look at her, my hands still firm on her waist, and I know I can’t hold her forever, but I’m not letting go ‘til she makes me. “Missed you, too, princess.”

A voice from the front of the set suddenly cuts through the crowd, making that uneasy feeling that was eased by my girl creep back in.

“Alright! Places!”

She rises on her tiptoes, pressing a soft and sweet kiss on my lips, contrasting comedically with the dark feelings churning inside me.

“Is this for me?” She asks, hurried but thankful.

“Hmm? Umm… Yeah, pretty,” I smile as I pass her her drink before pulling her in for one last hug, my eyes locked on his and my lips pressed against her forehead, my hand cupping her ass, squeezing just enough to show him I can.

“Are you going to stay for a while?” She asks, looking up at me hopefully, and although it might very well kill me, I nod.

“Wish me luck?”

“Good luck, baby,” I hum, my eyes on her as she turns. I smack her ass lightly as she bounces off, and she yelps, shooting me a grin over her shoulder like I’m the funniest man alive.

Connor watches the whole thing, rolling his eyes slightly before looking down at his watch, adjusting it, and his sleeves before stepping into the fake elevator.

He stands taller the closer she gets, his broad chest framed perfectly, his dark tie straightened with a flick of his wrist, and he smiles down at her, mumbling something I didn’t catch, which again, is probably for the best.

This is fine.

I’m fine.

Everything’s fine.

They take their places, and the second the track starts to pour through the speakers everything changes. She steps in closer, resting her hand on his chest as she sings along with her track.

I feel it coil in my gut—something cold, sharp, and ugly. The same flash of red that I get during a game that tells me, without hesitation, that if someone gets in my way or takes what’s mine, there’s going to be blood on my hands. But I can’t fucking act on it.

She’s being a professional. I trust her with every single thing I have. But that doesn’t stop me from wanting to break something. And I know he knows that.

He’s pushing it… Testing me. Watching me with the corners of his eyes like he wants to see what happens if he stares a little too long. Touches a little too slow.

He backs her up into the elevator wall in choreographed movement as his arm slides around her waist, retracing my tracks like my hands weren’t just there. His hand presses into her, arching her back slightly as she delivers the next line closer than I ever thought another man would get. Close enough to have me gripping the arms of the chair like a lifeline.

She smiles for the camera—sharp and wicked. Fuck, she’s good at this. Too fuckin’ good. His hands are all over her: down her ribs, across her hip, threatening to go lower. My knuckles go white, and my jaw aches.

She stiffens, just barely. Her smile doesn’t reach quite as far as it would if she was with me.

Ding.

The lift comes to a fake halt, and they break away, their eyes on the lot number above the door. A smug smile pulls on his lips as she reaches up, drawing him out of the elevator by his tie. He licks his lips as he looks down at hers in desperation, getting off on their interaction. She might be acting, but he’s not. And I can’t stop watching… This is her job. Her scene. Her art… It’s killing me.

“What do we think? Another take?” the director calls out.

My eyes lower to my hands, loosening on the chair as my heart and mind race.

I know I’m overreacting. I look up, ready to swallow my pride, and as I do, she grabs my shirt, tugging me to my feet, kissing me hard, warm and full of fire. Nothing sweet about it. She kisses me like she’s trying to take something back. Like she wants to erase every second of someone else’s hands on her.

“No, we’re good,” she smiles.

She turns her attention back to me, her beautiful eyes locked on mine.

“Was it that obvious?” I mumble, just for her.

“Painfully.”

I suck my teeth, holding back my smirk. I can tell she’s not mad; she knows me too well. “I was tryin’ to be cool.”

“Mhmm…” She teases as her thumb brushes across my cheek. “Thank you for playin’ nice.”

“Anything for you, princess.”

“You wanna get out of here? Just for a bit? I’ve got a break. We could get some air or something,” she asks, leaning a little closer, her hot skin warming her perfume, making my brain lag.

“Of course, sweetheart.”

I rest my hand on her back and guide her toward the hallway, my grip saying what I can’t say out loud. And right as I feel the calm settle in again, I see him moving toward us, still trying. I don’t say a word, just look back, glaring at him, letting him know he’s done.

“Rafe…” She whispers and giggles. “Stop, baby.”

“Stop what, princess?” I say, all fake innocence, making her laugh a little more.

“Stop what, princess?” She mimics as she rolls her pretty eyes, doing her best impression of me.

She gasps as I scoop her up, taking her into my arms. She throws hers around my neck, wrapping her legs around my waist, snuggling in.

“You’re lucky I didn’t throw you over my shoulder,” I mutter playfully.

She turns into me, letting her cheek brush against mine, making my heart race.

“I love it when you get like this,” she whispers, her mouth grazing my ear, making chills fall down my spine. “Jealous… Possessive—”

“Possessive,” I echo, cutting her off. “Fuck, baby. You haven’t seen possessive yet.”

She grins—that smile I’d kill for.

“How much time do I get with you?”

“Thirty minutes.”

Shit. She gasps yet again—half startled, half turned on—as I turn fast, pulling her into the first room I can see, pressing her back against the door, thumb grazing her jaw, voice low and lazy, already imagining the words playing on my tongue. “You’ve got thirty minutes. I’ll ruin you in ten… and spend the next twenty showin’ you no one else’ll ever fuck you or love you the way I do.”

𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓼’𝓼 𝓹𝓸𝓿 𖤐ᝰ.ᐟ𖦹₊⊹

Rafe doesn’t waste a second, sliding the lock into place, making your pulse spike. He peels his shirt off his muscular body. “Off, baby,” he mumbles, tugging on your shirt, working it over your head before you can respond, hungry and desperate to use all the time he has, making quick work of your clothes like he has something to prove, lifting you onto the meeting room table before laying you back.

His lips crash into yours–big hands roaming your body–hot, urgent, and possessive. He reaches between the two of you, popping open the buttons of his jeans as his tongue swirls with yours, making your mind hazy already.

He tugs down your shorts and rips off your panties, dropping to his knees, that warmth of his breath hitting your pussy, making you suck in a breath. “Oh my god, Rafe–” Your words turn into a breathy whine as his mouth finds you, making your head fall back.

Rafe groans into your heat, his skilled tongue working slowly, opening you further when he circles two thick fingers around your drooling hole, pushing them inside.

“Fuck,” you cry as he sucks on your clit; fingers curling inside you, finding that spot that makes your toes curl. Your heart races fast, chest rising and falling quickly as your fingers scratch and twist into his hair, pulling him closer, grinding your greedy pussy against his face.

“Sh-Shit–” You stammer as your climax hits you hard and fast, making your muscles tremble, but he doesn’t stop.

“Already, princess?” He taunts, rubbing his thumb along his plump bottom lip, sucking it clean like his favorite dessert. His voice is warm, his smile smug, his beautiful blue eyes looking down at you as he tilts in, hovering over your lips. “Fuck, baby. That was fast, huh?” He asks as he grabs his cock in his fist, running it through your soaked folds, making your muscles jump. Your eyes double as he pushes into you, filling you completely, groaning against your lips at the feeling.

“You know me so well–” You whisper breathlessly as he strokes into you at the perfect pace.

“Love your body, princess. Every inch of you,” he murmurs, brushing your hair from your face as he thrusts a little deeper. “‘Course I know you well. You’re my favorite thing in the whole fuckin’ world. Love taking care of my girl,” he whispers, kissing your forehead, his gentle love above contrasting his punishing thrusts below, your wet, hot heat squelching with each push of his toned hips. “I want these perfect lips sayin’ my name for the rest of my life–”

Rafe wraps his arms around you, lifting you slightly, changing the angle enough to get you good and loud. His thrusts grow rougher, more focused, the tension from before rolling off him as he watches you get closer and closer to cumming again.

He presses his lips against your ear, a particularly rough thrust leaving you throwing your hand over your mouth to hold back your cries of pleasure, making him smirk.

“Gotta be quiet, sweetheart,” he warns, the smugness dripping from every syllable.

“—Feels so good,” you pout as your voice breaks, bottom lip trembling from the pleasure alone.

“Is that right?” Rafe murmurs, dragging his lips along your jaw. “That’s the point, pretty.”

Rafe grinds his hips into you slow and deep, his cock thick and hot as it stretches you wide. “Shit,” he groans, dropping his forehead to yours, hips slapping against the backs of your thighs. The table creaks beneath you, rocking slightly with the force of his big body fucking into yours.

He snakes a hand between you, pressing his fingers against your clit, ghosting little circles, making you suck your lip between your teeth. “C’mon, sweetheart. Give it to me again,” he coaxes, your body quickly giving way. “That’s it. Just like that,” he praises, watching you unravel underneath him. “I wanna hear it, baby. I want everyone outside that door to know exactly who makes you cum like this.”

“You said be quiet,” you laugh airily, barely holding yourself together as his movements get messy.

“Yeah, well…” He grunts, hips jerking harder. “You makin’ those sounds? Sayin’ my name like that? We both know I’m full of shit–” Your back arches off the table, mouth falling open as he slams into you one last time, your walls fluttering around him as you sob out his name, high and broken.

Rafe pulls himself out, flipping you and bending you over, bracing yourself on trembling arms, legs spread, ass tilted just the way he loves. The cool air rushes over your skin for only a second before he’s behind you again, one hand gripping your waist, the other sliding under your thigh, lifting your leg on the table.

He pushes back into you in one hard stroke, both of you gasping in sync—your fingernails scratching into the wood, his breath catching in his throat as your body squeezes him tight.

“Shittt,” he groans, “I’m so deep. You feel how deep I am?” Your head falls between your shoulders–unable to form a coherent thought as he thrusts into you again and again. You nod feebly, crying out when he slaps your ass.

Every muscle in his body goes rigid as he buries himself to the hilt, groaning low and rough as he leans forward, pulling himself into your neck, spilling inside you, filling you up. His breath is hot and fast against your shoulder, cock throbbing inside you as a low chuckle rumbles in his broad chest.

You rest your cheek on the cool wooden tabletop in exhaustion, looking up at Rafe as he pulls back, looking down at you with a smile. “So fucking pretty like this, baby,” he whispers.

Rafe hisses out a breath as he drags his length out nice and slow. He grabs your hips, turning you around to face him. Leaning down, he captures your lips in a soft, passionate kiss.

His fingers curl around your hips, lifting you onto the table, sitting you down as his tongue slides against yours. His big hands roam your body, cupping your breasts, teasing your nipples with the rough pads of his fingers as you whimper into his mouth.

The tip of his fingers traces the indentation left behind from your tight top. He dips his head down, wrapping his lips around your supple skin, sucking enough to leave a mark behind that you’ll cover back up with lace.

“That’s mine,” he murmurs. “Only I get to see that.”

You do your best to catch your breath as he kisses down your trembling body. Tears of pleasure slide down your cheeks as the warmth of his breath hits your cunt. His finger dips through the slick mess of your shared release, swirling lazily as he watches the pretty changes in your face.

“Don’t think I could love you more,” he mutters, kissing your thigh, then again lower. “All mine.” You answer with a whimper, hips twitching as he slips the mess back inside you again.

“Rafe–” You gasp and moan as he works them into you again, tongue flicking teasingly across your pearl.

“You didn’t think I was done, did you? I’ve still got some time–”

#one shot #rafecameron #rowdydevs

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inthelibraryrecs · 2 months ago

Text

YOU STARE AT THE SCREEN, completely focused as the soft candlelight flickers against your face. pride and prejudice is playing, and the scene where mr. darcy finally confesses his love to elizabeth has you nearly holding your breath. you pop an occasional pretzel in your mouth, chewing slowly, absorbed in the moment.

but you feel it. that familiar warmth—eyes on you. a low, constant buzz of energy just to your right, like static. from the corner of your vision, you can see him watching. rafe. stretched out on the other side of the couch, one arm behind his head, chest naked on full display just to be infuriating, eyes not on the movie, but rather on you. intense and unblinking.

you try to ignore it. brush it off like he is not burning a hole into your soul with that stare. you focus harder on the screen, pretending not to notice the way he’s manspreading, looking like a snack ready to be eaten, or his occasional exaggerated sigh he lets out like he is dying of neglect.

the moment the credits roll, he suddenly launches himself at you like a missile. he knocks the pretzel bag out of your hand and pushes you onto your back, groaning dramatically as he buries his face in your chest like a needy, oversized puppy.

“what the hell, rafe?!” you shriek, caught off guard.

“had enough of you not paying attention to me,” he mutters, his voice low and gravelly against your shirt.

you blink, laughing breathlessly as you try to squirm away. “you’re such an idiot—get off me!”

he only groans louder, his arms locking around your sides. “nope. not movin’. missed you too much, and by the way, i’m your idiot.”

“we’ve been on the same couch for two hours!”

“yeah,” he says, rubbing his face deeper into your chest. “and you gave all your love to mr. darcy and none to me.”

before you can complain about his clinginess, he grabs both of your hands and puts them on his bald head.

“rub my head, baby,” he mumbles. “please.”

you snort, teasing. “you want me to rub your bald head?”

he pulls back just enough to frown at you, eyes glinting. “it’s not bald. it’s buzzed. hot. you said so yourself.”

you try to fight your smile but fail. he is right. the buzzcut had been a reckless decision after a night out, but god, he pulled it off. and he knew you liked it. which is exactly why he kept demanding head rubs—because it always flustered you and he loved the feeling of your soft hands on him.

“you’re unbelievable,” you murmur, running your fingers across his scalp anyway. he melts instantly, eyes fluttering shut, muscles going soft against you. he sighs like he has just reached nirvana.

“you love it, baby,” he murmurs, pressing even closer. sometimes it was like he was trying to get inside your skin.

you laugh, letting him rest his head fully against you again, his breath steady, his body warm and heavy. the room falls quiet again, just the hum of the tv in the background and the slow rise and fall of his chest.

then, softly—barely louder than a whisper—he says,

“you know you get this pretty little sparkle in your eyes when you look at something you love?”

you blink, caught off guard. “what?”

he shifts just enough to look up at you, blue eyes serious and open in a way that makes your throat tighten. “i’ve seen it,” he says. “i watch you. when you get that look in your eyes, all soft and gone and glowing. like you forgot everything else around you. i saw it when you watched that movie. and sometimes, if i’m lucky, i catch you looking at me like that.”

you pause, stunned into silence.

“that’s how i know,” he adds, thumb brushing gently over your hip. “that this is real.”

you stare at him for a long, quiet moment, your heart doing things you cannot explain. he always manages to say the one thing that splits you right open—gentle and real and vulnerable.

you still cannot believe that the rafe cameron, who used to snort coke for a living and violence on people as a hobby, is now talking about the sparkle in your eyes.

“rafe…”

“hmm?” he whispers.

“i love you,” you breathe, so soft it trembles.

and he smiles, that rare, quiet smile that tugs at your ribs and anchors your whole heart. he leans in, kisses you slow and steady, like he has all the time in the world.

when he pulls back, he is still holding you like you are something fragile and precious. “now,” he murmurs, brushing his nose against yours, “can we watch something that doesn’t make me feel like i’m losing you to some british guy in a waistcoat?”

you laugh, breathless, eyes shining. “only if i can keep rubbing your bald head.”

he bites into your shoulder, showing he’s annoyed again. “again, it’s not bald. it’s buzzed. and you love it.”

he pulls you fully into his arms, on top of him, as you grab the remote next to you and decide on another movie. he presses your face into the crook of his neck and you let yourself fall. because rafe might be dramatic, needy, a little ridiculous—but he is yours.

angel (💭): soft!bf!rafe has my heart <3

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron fluff #one shot

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inthelibraryrecs · 2 months ago

Note

Dr. Abbot / The Pitt

Resident!reader has a crush on Dr. Abbot, but never acts on it because they work so well together and he's never given her any firm indication that he likes more than as his favourite resident. But every so often the praise he'll give is just on the edge of being unprofessional without crossing that line...so she decides to go for it and he rejects her. Before they can speak again she's in a car accident and is brought into the pitt and he goes *feral*. Bonus points if he breaks down and admits his feelings when he thinks she can't hear him because she's so out of it, but she remembers everything. Extra bonus points if he thinks she's going to die at any point. ALL the bonus points if there's a spicy ending....or spicy anything.

Say It First: Dr. Jack Abbot x Reader

Synopsis: Jack has grown used to the emptiness in his heart, a quiet companion that has kept him safe for too long. But when you finally speak your truth, he realizes the hardest battles aren’t fought on the field or in the chaos of the ER, but in the silence between two hearts longing for each other.

Warnings: Canon-typical depictions of trauma, angst, hurt/comfort, rejection, mentions of drunk driving, death, car accidents, reader is injured

Word count: 3.6k

A/n: Thanks for sending this in!! I got so many requests and I’ll try to work through them, but a) this was the first and b) this may or may not be inspired by real events (minus the accident) lmfaooo yikes good times…. Also, no spicy ending, because of, well, where I've ended it, but a bit of flavor sprinkled in... this is soo long / slow burn sorry, pls lmk what you think <3

Thirty-six years old. A mother of two. Only trying to get home. Gone. In the blink of an eye. All because one man chose to get behind the wheel after a night out.

You spent the last hour coding the woman, the air thick and heavy with grief. After taking a minute to honor her life, your feet carry you instinctively towards the roof.

The first rays of the morning sun gently kiss your face and the weight on your chest begins to lift, if only slightly. Your shoulders drop slowly with each cleansing breath, as you release the night’s tragedy into the vastness of the world below.

Your eyes meet a familiar silhouette standing behind the railing. As always, a little too close to the edge.

"What are you doing here?" Jack turns around, his features softening at the sight of you.

"Can a girl not enjoy a beautiful sunrise in peace?" you counter playfully.

That's a lie. You were looking for him. You always find him here.

"Heard you had a rough one", his tone full of sympathy, or just understanding.

A flicker of pain flashes across your face and without missing a beat, Jack steps back, moving to stand beside you, just behind the railing. His hand rests on your shoulder, warm and reassuring, the lightest of squeezes grounding you.

Your jaw tightens. "She had groceries and toys in the back of her car." With a deep sigh, "Her kids... are still waiting for her to come home."

He lets your words hang there, giving you time to process the loss. "You want me to talk to them with you?"

You wonder when Jack started being so soft with you. You think back to your early days in residency. Your first impression of him was that of a broken, stone-cold man. A soldier, hardened by years of seeing too much, too many lives lost. He used to move through the halls like a ghost, never letting anyone get too close.

But somehow, at some point, he let you in. At least you think so.

You shake your head, desperate to change the subject. "What are you doing up here?

A hint of a smile creeps in. It's faint, but it's there. "Just thinking..."

"...About?"

"Nosy as ever..." Jack's smile grows a little. "Life. Death. Everything in between..."

You press on, "Well, if you're ready to rejoin the living, a few of us are heading to the new pub down the road. The owner was a patient of mine. So, free drinks for me and my friends!"

"I don't have friends here."

You roll your eyes. Hard.

"What am I then?"

"One of my best residents?"

You lean in, whispering, “I'm your favorite though, right?”

Jack huffs a quiet laugh, a small shake of his head. He’s aware of the irony, of course.

He hasn't really been playing favorites, not consciously anyway. But lately, you've been getting extra attention from Dr. Abbot. More lessons. More opportunities. More praise.

But between the nepo babies and the kid geniuses in this hospital, you figure you deserve a little favoritism.

And you are grateful. Jack is a great teacher. He knows when to step back and he takes the time to teach when you're out of your depth. Believes in you, even when you don't.

The bar is buzzing with noise. You stand there, waiting for the free drinks, watching the crowd. Jack is sat on a stool in the corner, like he's part of the furniture, his eyes scanning the exits. Always on guard, even here.

Most of the team is clustered together, laughter and chatter in the air like a cocktail of relief and friendship. Glasses clink with a sound of shared thanks.

Robby and Heather slip to the other side of the room, their conversation low and intense, the tension between them palpable.

You wonder if people notice a similar air between you and Jack. Your shifts have somehow magically aligned lately.

Princess and Perlah, no doubt, have been talking. The boys, likely betting on who’s going to admit it first.

Dana steps closer, voice barely above a whisper, "Can't believe you've managed to get our sad boy to come."

Your eyes widen, but she doesn't let you object "He never does. Believe me, we've all tried. Nothing. Not even for Robby. And they're... friends."

You can’t help but laugh, "He doesn't have friends."

Dana shoots you a look. "So I've heard."

The bartender hands you two beers, a welcome interruption. You flash Dana a warm smile, before slipping away towards your table, feeling the weight of her gaze still on you.

You hand Jack one of the bottles, without looking, it's almost automatic. Natural. If people saw you on the street, they'd probably assume you were more than just colleagues.

You slide onto your stool, leaning in closer to Jack. "Dana's a little hurt that you've never gone out with them before. Not even for Robby!" You laugh, taking a big gulp of your beer.

Jack smirks, "I told you, I don't do favorites." He's satisfied by the loud laugh he gets from you.

The hours pass by, the noise of the bar blending into the background as you and Jack stay in your own quiet bubble.

Your stools have shifted closer, your knees just barely brushing. You glance down, surprised to find Jack’s hand resting on your thigh, his thumb rubbing slow, deliberate circles over the fabric of your jeans. It’s almost too gentle, too careful, like he’s testing a line neither of you wants to cross but can’t help but feel drawn to.

Your cheeks are flushed, your eyes glazed, laughter still filling the air. You don’t know if it’s the alcohol or the way Jack’s presence calms you, but it’s been a long time since you’ve felt this alive.

Have the rest of the team even noticed? Are they still here?

You’ve had a bit to drink, maybe more than a bit and as you push yourself up from the stool to head towards the restroom, a dizzy spell hits you.

For a split second, you’re sure you’re about to face-plant into the cold wall next to you, but then Jack’s there. His hand steadies you, pulling you against him with a surprising gentleness.

You remain in his grip, your body melting at the contact. His breath is uneven, but it’s probably from the shock of almost seeing you fall. Unless...?

You look up into his eyes and for a fleeting second, there’s something there.

A spark.

Something electric that makes your heart skip. And before you can stop yourself, you want to close the distance between you, feel his lips against yours.

But Jack pulls away, his movements soft and almost apologetic as he helps you stand with a shy smile.

You return the smile, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes as you step away, heading towards the restroom.

Once you're out of sight, he turns to see Dana glancing at him across the room. Before he can protest, you’re back, gathering both your jackets, moving with the same confidence you always have. "Wanna walk me home?"

Jack's eyes widen at the bluntness. He freezes for just a moment, hesitation flickering in his eyes before he nods.

"Yeah. I’ll walk you home."

You both head for the door, only to find that the team are, in fact, all still there. And now they're staring.

Watching you leave with Dr. Jack Abbot.

The ER buzzes with its usual chaos, patients rolling in, monitors beeping and the staff moving in sync. But today, there's something else in the air that you can't quite put your finger on.

You’ve just finished treating a patient, now sitting at a computer at the nurses' station, neatly typing up your notes.

You feel everyone's eyes on you.

Today, they are definitely talking.

You glance up and spot Jack across the room. He’s looking at you already, his expression unreadable. Something about his gaze feels different. A little too focused. A little too intense.

He walks over, reaching across you to grab a chart. His hand briefly brushes against yours as he leans in slightly, too close for a colleague, but not quite crossing the line.

You blink, trying to focus on the patient notes in front of you, but the words suddenly feel distant.

It’s impossible not to notice the way the team is starting to gather in their little huddles, whispering, eyes darting in your direction.

He stands close enough now that you feel his warmth. The line between professional and personal blurs and for a brief, dangerous moment, you’re not sure where the boundaries lie.

"You’re a natural," he says, his eyes meet yours and the intensity is enough to make your heart stutter. "Well done."

Jack continues, his voice lower now, just loud enough for you to hear, but not to be overheard by anyone else "You should be proud."

Before you can reply, a sudden voice cuts through the moment. It’s Robby, walking past with a glance over his shoulder, a knowing look in his eyes. “Hey, Jack,” he calls out casually. “Save some of the praise for the rest of us, yeah?”

Jack’s gaze flicks toward Robby, "You know, I don’t do favorites."

But something has changed and it’s too late to pretend otherwise.

You suddenly stand, confidently grabbing Jack's arm and pulling him to one side. He is surprised, a flicker of curiosity in his eyes, but he follows you without a word.

You look up at him, “Listen, I know we’re not exactly friends.” You pause, your eyes meeting his, willing him to understand what you’re trying to say. “But you’ve been working a hell of a lot of shifts lately. And… I thought maybe we could grab dinner sometime?”

You watch Jack's lips twitch ever so slightly, but he composes himself quickly.

He doesn't say anything for a long beat.

Did you cross a line?

“I mean”, you add, “You know, to talk about cases or whatever. You don’t always have to eat in the break room. And I’m sure you’re tired of hospital food.” You give him a smile, warm and genuine.

For a second, you think he might decline. You feel your pulse race just a little faster.

But then he returns your smile, "Sure. Dinner sounds good."

You sit across from Jack in a dimly lit restaurant, the glow of the candlelight casting soft shadows on his face. The flicker of the flame reflects warmth onto his dimples.

It feels intimate, like you’re seeing a side of him that’s been hidden for too long, even from himself.

"Fuck me", you mutter, sinking into your chair, hiding from someone across the room.

"Excuse me?" Jack's voice is surprised, with a hint of something else.

If you weren't so uncomfortable, the shocked look on Jack's face would have made you laugh.

“Don’t look,” you whisper, the words slipping out before you can stop them. “But the guy over there… he broke my heart in med school.”

Jack’s gaze flicks to the man in question, but it's so obvious that it makes you flush.

He turns back to you, leaning in, "Want me to rough him up? Just a bit?"

You giggle, "Please don't, we weren't that serious anyway. But he did cheat on me. And at the time, it hurt."

Something dark flickers in his eyes.

"He's a prick", he spews, voice low and sharp.

"Why do I always get the assholes? I think I'll just give up", you laugh.

He hesitates for a moment, but the words leave his lips before he can stop himself.

"Why are you single?" His voice holds genuine surprise.

"Since when are you interested in my love life, Dr. Abbot?"

Or lack thereof.

He doesn't respond. You contemplate for a moment. Is he really this clueless?

"Why do you think?" You question, like a challenge.

"I don't know", his brows furrow. "I think - you like being independent. You're not looking for a man to complete you." He ponders, "And I also think you find dating distracting."

The way he reads you, so honestly, so accurately, hits you in ways you weren’t prepared for. You drop your mouth slightly.

How can he be so spot on and so wrong at the same time?

"What do I know. Maybe you just haven't met the right guy", he adds, trying to ease the awkward tension that’s settled between you.

Or maybe the right guy just doesn't know how to connect the dots!

"What about you then?" You try to shift the conversation.

"What about me?" He laughs.

You shoot him a look.

"Why am I single?", he asks most innocently. "What if I'm not?" You roll your eyes.

"We'll then what are you doing here with me and not making love to your gorgeous girlfriend... or boyfriend?" You add the last part with a smirk that feels more daring than you expected. He can't place it, but this new energy awakens something inside him.

His eyes flicker to your lips, but there’s a hesitation. The air is electric, you can almost feel the wall between you crumbling.

But his face grows serious. "It's just easier like this."

"Since when are you one to take the easy road?" You counter, your voice sharp.

It's now or never.

You search his eyes, willing him to say it first.

Anything.

But he doesn't. You break eye contact and he feels like he just lost something he didn't know he could have. Didn't know he deserved.

You exhale deeply, the words finally escaping you, "You know I have feelings for you, right?".

The confession slips out, barely louder than a whisper, as if you’re terrified of hearing it yourself.

For a moment, there’s only silence.

A flicker of vulnerability crosses his face, but it disappears just as quickly. His stoic exterior is intact, but something has cracked. His gaze remains unreadable, like his brain can't comprehend what you just said.

You wonder if you should take it back, pretend it never happened. Maybe you're lucky and he really didn't hear you.

You're not.

Before you can retreat, Jack beats you to it. "Y/N..."

Oh no.

"I'm so flattered...I- Thank you." His words are slow, measured, as if he's trying to find the right ones. "I- I didn't know you felt this way."

What, the excessive flirting and the obsessive need to be near him didn't give it away?

"Ouch. I suppose you don't feel the same", you laugh nervously.

There's that look again. Like he sees right through you. Like he's already seen every part of you. Touched every inch of your body, without ever having seen you naked.

"What do you want with an old man like me anyway?" His voice thick with uncertainty.

Hello? Is that a no?

It stings, but you fight to keep your composure. “You’re not that old", you tease, but the effort feels hollow in the face of his hesitance.

"It wouldn't end well...", his voice quieter now. "I don't want to hurt you."

"God, if you don't have feelings for me just say so. We're adults. This will they/won't they game is really messing with my head!"

"I'm sorry" he says, the words soft but final. "I can't."

You have your answer.

You've been through too much uncertainty. Always hoping for more. Always confused. It's too much hurt. Too much heartbreak. So you accept his decision.

And know you'll move on.

Your evening has come to an unexpected end. He slips your jacket over your shoulders with that same careful attention, the way he’s always done, because, of course, he’s the perfect gentleman, even after this brutal rejection.

You know it'll take some time to heal, which feels silly, because nothing really happened!

But in your mind, you're already preparing to switch shifts, changing your routine, so your schedules will no longer align.

Jack insists on walking you to your bus stop, his steps matching yours in a slow, rhythmic silence. And in that moment, a wave of sadness overcomes you. You feel like you're not just losing a friend, but also your mentor. Your eyes well up, praying he doesn't see. But he does, of course.

He always does.

You're ready to say goodbye, to the night, but also to what could have been.

When you reach the stop, he unexpectedly pulls you into his chest, his arms wrapping around you with a tenderness that makes your breath catch. One of his hands presses gently against your back, while the other holds your head against his heart, each beat a reminder of what it feels like to be alive, to be loved.

For a brief moment, as you breathe in his familiar scent, you only exist in the present.

In his arms.

The weight of your future and present not threatening to pull you under.

But then reality hits you.

You step back, slowly, as if leaving a piece of yourself behind in the safety of his embrace.

You turn around and walk away. You know he's watching, but you don't look back.

Jack has barely seen you this week, your shifts conveniently ending when his start and vice versa.

He can't help but feel like he's lost something good, not even giving it a chance to become something great.

He's on his way to the hospital for yet another shift without you, his mind wandering back to the moment he watched you walk away.

When he let you go.

When all he really wanted was to let you in. To have his lips touch yours. To interlock your fingers with his. To take you on a real date. To take you bake to his place...

To watch the bus drive off without you.

But you said it first. And he said nothing at all.

The air is different today, charged, the nurses a little quieter, the doctors a little more tense.

Jack looks around, he realises something isn’t right. The staff are huddled in groups, whispering.

Is the hospital finally closing down?

He has a bad feeling about this.

He notices Dana first. She's standing by the nurses' station. When she catches his gaze, her eyes flicker with something Jack can’t quite place. Concern? Worry? He’s about to walk over to her when Robby appears out of nowhere, stepping right into his path.

“Jack”, Robby says, his voice low. There’s a weight in his tone, a hesitation that only deepens Jack’s unease.

“What's going on?” Jack asks, his brow furrowing, but Robby doesn’t answer right away.

Instead, Robby pulls him aside, out of earshot of the others.

The words “drunk driver” and “Y/N” are enough to send a cold shiver down Jack's spine.

Jack's hands tremble as he heads straight for your room, but everything feels distant, muffled.

He’s flooded with guilt for not being there, for not having checked on you, for all the unsaid words between you.

Christ, he's a doctor and he wasn't there to help you.

More importantly, he was your friend and he let you believe that he wasn't.

Maybe, deep down, he knew he wanted to be more than that.

Now, there you are, lying still, tubes and wires everywhere.

He takes a shaky step forward, his hand hovering near yours. The thought of touching you, of being this close and you not being aware, makes his chest tighten. But he can’t help it. His fingers brush against your skin, a fragile connection.

“I didn’t- God, I was an idiot. I should’ve… said it. Should’ve been… with you. But I didn’t. I’m sorry. I-” His voice breaks and he curses under his breath.

He doesn’t know if you can hear him.

If you’ll ever hear him again.

Jack takes a seat next to your bed, drowning in fear for you. Broken. Guilty. Devastated. Alone.

“I’m so sorry", a quiet sob escapes his lips. "I've grown so used to the emptiness in my heart, I didn't know how to let you in..." It's in this moment, he realizes he’s terrified of losing you without ever having truly had you.

For the next couple of days Jack watches your chest rise and fall in a steady, artificial rhythm, but you don't move.

He loses a fraction of hope with every day that passes, waiting for you to wake up, for you to roll your eyes and tell him to stop being an idiot.

Your friends and colleagues check in on you as much as they do on him.

But the silence stretches on.

Robby often lingers in the doorway, exchanging quiet, knowing glances with Jack before he leaves, like there’s nothing else to say or do.

On the seventh day, Jack finds himself sitting beside your bed long after his shift has ended. His hand rests on the edge of your mattress, close enough to feel the warmth of your skin, but still too far away.

"I’m sorry”, he mutters, knowing you can’t hear him. His eyes flicker to the machines keeping you tethered to this world, his heart feeling too heavy to bear.

His body stiffens when he suddenly sees your fingers twitching ever so slightly. Then, a shallow inhale, before your eyes flutter open.

Jack watches you look up at the ceiling, disoriented. Then, slowly, your gaze moves to him.

"Jack?" Your voice is hoarse.

He leans forward, the weight of the last few days catching up with him. “Yeah,” he says quietly. “I’m here Y/N."

You blink a few times, before the corners of your mouth turn into a smile. Though it’s small and fragile. “I thought you didn’t have favorites?”

For a second, he isn’t sure he heard you right.

His heart aches, raw and exposed and he knows he can't hide his feelings anymore.

You know. And he knows you know.

You lift a hand, weak but determined and place it over his.

Omg, this turned out way longer than expected!! Hope you liked it anyway. Pls comment/share your thoughts below. ♡

#jack abbot #one shot

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