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thatsthewrongwallcraig · 7 months

Note

I know you wrote for Kappa/Euro. Hear me out.. could you write for Euro/Dead from lords of chaos? No one writes for jack kilmer and it drives me insane‼️😭

Pure Fucking Armaggedon

Summary: In the midst of a heavy night of partying with the Black Circle, you crave your boyfriend's attention but just like so often lately, he's very much not interested, leading you to meet your needs somewhere else…

Pairing: Dead x fem!Reader x Euronymous

Word Count: ~3.7k

Content Warnings: Trve Kvlt Smvt 18+!, Talk About Depression/Mental Illness, Talk About Self-Harm, Very Angsty, Hurt/Comfort...ish, Alcohol, Smoking, Cheating…But With A Twist, Fingering, Unprotected P In V, Creampie, Pet Names

A/N: Hi, anonnie! Thank you very much for this ask <3 Before everybody jumps into my inbox about Jack Kilmer: Please don’t, okay? He’s not tickling my brain like Rory does and I’d hate to let y’all down by having requests sitting in my inbox collecting dust 🖤 However, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't having a lot of fun writing this chaos!

Massive thanks to @spookyorchid for endlessly entertaining my rambles and inspiring me!

Disclaimer: This is solely based on the characters depicted in Lords Of Chaos!

Tagging the horny horde:

@crypticsewerslut @quicksilversg1rl @cc-luvr @icarus-star @milaeth @roryculkinsgf @spookyorchid @arch1viste @whoareyoi @angelsanarchy @blueberrypancakesworld @rocketqueen-world @lifelessvessel @doddernix @svgarcaine @amayalul @basementgrl222 @kristennero-wallacewellsver @iiheartsai @fan-goddess @shady-the-simp

Could you stomach it anymore

Could you stand to be a breath away

Can you feel the way your face distorts

Did you think that it could be this way

- Stomach It By Crywolf

Your upper lip twitched a little as your gaze darted right into your boyfriend's chestnut-coloured eyes. In a rather stark contrast to yours, Pelle's expression was indifferent whilst he stared back at you, face smeared with a now gray amalgamation of once black and white corpse paint.

"Sorry…" He muttered, his voice lacking the depth and sympathy to really sell his point.

"No…it's, it's okay, really. It makes no sense to pressure yourself when you're not in the mood, no." You shrugged your shoulders at him, very much meaning what you said whilst you still felt that massive rock of repeated disappointment settling down in your stomach.

"I'm gonna go grab another beer then…can I get you something?" Pelle shook his head lightly.

"No, but thanks. I think I should just go to sleep now." The Swede with the long blonde hair allowed himself to slump deeper down into the old, worn out sofa, crossing his arms in front of his chest and with that not just verbally but also physically blocking you out.

"Nighty then…" You mumbled, turning away from your boyfriend to hide just how hard you fought to keep your composure.

Neither the heavy leather jacket, the edgy metal studs and spikes all over nor your trusty Darkthrone shirt hugging your torso were able to shield you from the emotional hurt raging inside of you. It's been months since Pelle last touched or so much as kissed you on the mouth. You knew just fine that something wasn't alright with him, that he was going through an episode again and the last thing you intended on doing was putting any blame for that on him but fuck was it challenging you this time. It didn't go past you how the I love you's had become more and more scarce, how he turned his back to you at night whilst you stared at the ceiling hoping for the oncoming episode to wash over him in a few, swift weeks but his current black hole of depression was unlike anything before. You hardly recognised your boyfriend anymore and felt like nothing but an accessory to the whole band persona he'd put up to cover up how much he was actually hurting on the inside.

To not come off as a soft, little crybaby to everybody else, you stifled your breath and wiped the emerging gush of tears from your lower lash line as fast as you could before making your way out to the densely crowded yard again. Empty bottles of beer lined the way whilst partially smoked-up cigarettes laid scattered all over, the heavy smell of a raging bonfire filled the crisp night breeze. Whilst almost violently looking to the ground to avoid anybody seeing you being about to burst into tears, you rushed to one of the cooling boxes to grab a beer or preferably something stronger. A sense of recklessness washed through you as you dug a deeply green, still halfway full glass bottle from the cooler. Jägermeister would serve you just fine right now.

Armed with the strong booze, you went right back into the house, hiding yourself away from all the action to simply get drunk in peace and solitude.

"Ugh…" Your whole body quivered as the herbal liquor shot down your throat, drenching your mouth in its bitter taste.

Right after the sensation eased up a little, you chased the first swig with a second, deeper one, the alcohol burning its way through your stomach before you'd even reached the corner of the house that could be described as a guest room to slump down on an array of dusty mattresses. With the intense warmth of heavy liquor washing through your body, you curled yourself up, shoving an old pillow underneath your head and before you really realized it, vagrant, quiet tears trickled from the corners of your eyes, pooling at the tear duct to eventually swap over the bridge of your nose. If you were honest with yourself, you felt sick of it, sick of being ignored and pushed away but at the same time you just couldn't bring yourself to point the finger at Per. He simply didn't choose this way of being and feeling yet it felt like he wasn't even trying anymore…which, again, would just be another symptom. You sighed in defeat before treating yourself to another numbing mouthful of booze.

Allowing the tears to just run down your face at their very own pace, you simply wanted to get drunk as fast as possible but even that wouldn't be granted to you, a gentle knock on the slightly ajar door pulling you from your thoughts.

"Huh?" You muttered, sitting up straight again and wiping the wetness from your cheeks.

"Hey…are you okay?" The familiar voice belonging to Øystein asked.

His head peaked through the open door, a messy bunch of black hair framing his face in wavy strands.

"Saw you rushing through the yard and thought checking up on you wouldn't hurt…" He slid his lean statue through the small opening, stepping towards you before crouching down to meet your gaze.

"See? That's part of the problem…you, you care and Pelle just…he just sits there." The words blubbered out of you in an uncontrolled rush accompanied by a new surge of hot tears.

"Hey now…", Euronymous quickly sat down, tucking the frizzy hair behind his ears, "What's going on, hm?"

"I'm so sick of this shit, Øystein… I can't help him, I can't fix him and he just pushes me away time and time again. I'm so done with this bullshit." It practically gushed out of your mouth in a poorly choked-back wail.

"There's a whole horde of people out there, Euro, yet I feel so terribly fucking lonely all the time. Everybody's cheering for Mayhem and for Dead, going on about how fucking cool and true he is for what he's doing to himself on stage but you know what?", You tried to stifle your shaky breaths, "It's not cool. None of it. It's actually fucking terrifying…and it's me who's got to stitch him back to gether every damn time."

With every one of your words, Øystein's eyes widened a little more, partly in understanding about just how much his friend was dragging you through but also in plain sympathy for you.

"Come'ere, yeah? C'mon…if it helps you can squeeze me as hard as you want to, okay?" Euronymous spread both his arms, inviting you in for a tight hug.

Not wasting a second thought on it, you leaned in, wrapping your shaking hands around his shoulders to squeeze and press as tightly as you could.

"There you go…that's it, right there." Euronymous encouraged you, the palms of his broad hands resting at the back of your head to soothe you with gentle pets and strokes.

"I wish I could help you but none of us really gets through to him anymore…I'm so sorry." Øystein sighed into the curve of your neck, the tip of his nose almost touching the cold, black leather of your jacket.

"I don't even know what's going on with him anymore. Everything is just so terribly wrong and I don't know how much longer I can do this shit, Euro, I really don't." You sniffled, inevitably having the vastly different scent of Euronymous right in front of you sneaking up into your nostrils.

Unlike Pelle, he smelled like stale cigarette smoke, cheap aftershave and beer…maybe not exactly a crowd pleaser but you found comfort in it.

"It's okay. I don't judge you." He whispered to you in a soft tone and it threatened to break you apart from the inside.

"Thank you…", You croaked into his hair, your voice getting weaker with every letter, "I feel so shitty for thinking about it like that but…but I'm so goddamn tired. I-...I just wanna feel loved again."

"To remind you…there's a whole horde of people out there who love you." He tried to cheer you up but ultimately missed the point.

"Not…not like that. Ugh, I sound stupid…" You felt the need to take the words straight back and to just go with Øystein's attempt of calming you.

"No, you don't, seriously.", Euronymous led his fingers to get lost in your hair, fingertips softly stroking across your scalp down to the nape of your neck, "I can't imagine how you came up with enough energy to stay this long in the first place. We both know it's not his fault, neither is it yours or mine but we've all been watching you breaking away because of him. You're not smiling anymore, not screaming your lungs out at the gigs, you're barely even here anymore…he's eating you up."

"I can't just leave, Øystein…" You gradually loosened your death grip around his torso to lean back, your face wet with slowly subsiding tears.

"I know…all I'm saying is that it might be time to think about yourself a little more. It won't help anybody if you get lost in his chaos, too." Before you could raise your own hand to wipe the sleeve of your jacket across your face, Euronymous was already on it, his thumb brushing over your cheek.

Whilst taking a deep breath to steady yourself a bit more, the two of you just stared at each other for a moment. You followed how he slightly grinded his teeth together, jaws clenching, withholding something you couldn't quite decipher.

"Øystein?" You furrowed your brows a little, the feeling of something being violently off ebbing through your chest.

"I'm sorry…" That's all he offered to you before cupping your face with the full length of his palm and leaning in to press an anything but timid kiss to your trembling lips.

A part of you, the voice of reason within, practically screamed at you to pull away, to scurry back and to let this go down as nothing but an awkward, boozy, little slip-up, but you didn't move by just an inch as the pungent taste of smoked cigarettes and cheap beer swept into your mouth alongside Euronymous' daring tongue. You simply let it happen, allowed him to slip his tongue into your mouth and intoxicate you with the dangerously addictive feeling of being wanted, desired by someone.

"Fuck…" You groaned into the nearly bruising kiss, hands reaching out to claw at his utterly worn out Venom shirt to pull him closer to you.

Catching the notion that he had dared to make the right move at the right time, Øystein's palm left your face, both hands roaming over your back down to your ass to simply scoop you into his lap, your legs wrapping themselves around the cold of his bullet-shell belt as the hem of your washed-out, gray denim skirt rode up generously over your fishnet-stocking covered thighs.

"I got you…just hold on to me." Euronymous muttered, trying to catch his breath a little whilst his fingers dug themselves into the curve of your behind, causing you to whine out as you arched your hips impossibly close towards his crotch.

The aching need to feel just something again practically pulsed through every nerve ending and every muscle, pulling you into his tight grasp and for your hands to slip under the soft fabric of his shirt, skin against skin leaving you to crave more. Whilst one of his hands left it's place cupping your ass to hurry down between your bodies, awkwardly fumbling with the buckle of his belt before almost violently pulling down the zipper, a short but heavy pang of guilt jolted through your ribcage, nearly causing you to flinch on the spot. Nothing about this situation at hand was right or somehow, in some crooked way, justifiable to you and yet you made not a single move to stop any of it from happening. You didn’t grasp for Øystein's hand as it hushed from his unzipped pants amidst your legs, the sound of your tights tearing and ripping thundering in your ears, right before curious fingertips brushed over thin lace panties, no. The only reaction it pulled from your body was a needy moan.

"Right there, yeah?" You heard the smirk in his tone without even needing to see it.

Nodding softly, you placed your mouth back onto his, teeth teasingly grazing over his bottom lip.

"Bet that feels even better, babe." At first you didn't know what struck you harder, the endearing pet name or Euronymous' fingers snaking past your slip, dipping right into your soaked folds to draw achingly slow circles around your entrance.

"Please…" You hummed into the kiss, your forehead leaning against his.

"Please, what?", He inquired, fingertips prodding and nudging against your cunt, "Want me to fill you up, no? Such a greedy little thing."

You choked back a whine as Øystein withdrew his hand from your slip to shove the fabric to the side, fingers freeing his rock-hard cock from the confines of his shorts right before thrusting into you with a precise rock of his hips against yours.

"Oh, fuck…" Your moan got lost in his mouth, the delicious feeling of being stretched out so harshly rippling through you.

"How long has it been, huh?" He pushed, drilling himself into you until it threatened to hurt.

"I dunno…four months, maybe five." You couldn't stop your eyes from fluttering shut, the burning heat of arousal and shame creeping into your face in equal parts.

"Yeesh, couldn't leave a girl like you untouched for that long." Euronymous huffed, his other hand steadying your posture with his palm flat against your back as he started rolling his hips, practically bouncing you on his cock.

With your entire body flush with the sensation of Øystein spearheading into you in a firm pace, the last bit of your coherent brain busy muffling and holding back desperate mewls and whimpers, you rendered completely oblivious to what was happening around you…unlike the black-haired guitarist. From the very corner of his eyes, Øystein's attention got pulled towards the semi-open door, the old, wooden floor in front of it creaking treacherously. Just by the way a well familiar pair of thoroughly worn out combat boots barely peaked across the lines of the door frame, he knew that the both of you had been caught right in the act but he didn't so much as even bother to stop from guiding you up and down his throbbing hard on.

"You at least got yourself off here and there, no?" You shook your head.

"Didn't feel right. I- I just hoped things would get back to normal…" You groaned, the sensation of Euronymous' cock stroking over that extra sensitive spot inside of you sending cold, little shivers down your spine.

"Oh, love, then I better make sure to give it to you better than Per ever could…lazy fucker." Øystein scoffed more to his friend and singer hiding next to the door frame than to you but you didn't take any notice of that, your senses way too busy with just keeping it together.

For a moment, Øystein felt actual and very real rage gushing through him. Anger towards his friend for being such an oblivious prick regarding the suffering and all-round neglect he was dragging you through. It was a terribly self-righteous emotion, that he knew for sure, however, he couldn't help himself but to let it fuel the way he rutted into you, burying himself as deep as possible inside of your wet pussy.

The rather morbid thing both of you failed to take notice of was what Dead was doing hidden away in the shadows of the hallway, the crushing humiliation not only going straight to his heart but to his awfully throbbing cock as well, the bitter-sweet masochistic rush leading him to palm himself through his trousers whilst biting down on his fist to not let just one singular sound escape from his twitching lips. The Swede was shamelessly jerking himself off to you getting railed by his closest friend.

"Gonna take good care of you, babe." Øystein groaned in a lust-riddled tone, both of his hands now closing down around your hips to hammer your form onto his cock with every jut and snap of his hips.

It had you bashfully nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck, the cigarette smoke soaked leather of his jacked cold against your cheek, whilst you still clawed at his sides underneath his shirt.

Your fingers dug into his skin as you felt your walls starting to flutter and contract around Øystein's hard on, the first crushing jolts of your pent-up orgasm rippling through your body, senses being sent into blissful overdrive.

"Good girl…fuck, pulling me in so hard now, huh?" Euronymous' voice cracked and eventually faltered just like the rolls of his lap against yours.

"Issok…", He talked you through your release, shoving himself balls deep into your spasming cunt before flooding your insides with white-hot ropes of his seed, a guttural groan ripping itself free from the depths of his lungs, "Just let yourself go. I gotchu."

The earth-shattering sensation of all the pent-up sexual desperation mixed in with shame and crushing guilt washing through your system had you biting down on his leather-clad shoulder, a fresh surge of tears threatening to swap over your lower lash line at any second.

"Aw, shit." A sore croak from outside the room led both of you to turn your heads so suddenly that it nearly gave you whiplash.

"The fuck?!" You shrieked out, practically jumping from Øystein's lap whilst he was equally busy with tucking himself back in and getting off the mattress.

"I got this!" Euronymous tried to calm you, awkwardly stumbling away from you before tearing the door open and vanishing into the dark hallway.

For a split second your overworked synapses tried to get a vague grasp on what was going down. Feet were hammering down stairs, noisy commotion erupted from inside the house before the sound of shattering glass and incomprehensible screaming and shouting filled the yard.

"Oh fuck no…" You huffed under your breath, wobbly legs nearly giving out as you tried to pull yourself from the mattress.

As soon as you stood upright again, you felt Øystein's load oozing out of you, soaking the flimsy fabric of your slip with every step you took. You dreaded the scenario that was unfolding outside because the yelling didn't seem to die down but much rather escalate further.

"You fucking traitor!" Pelle's raspy voice cut through the night air, hitting you as soon as you slid out the front door.

"Fucking traitor?!", Øystein spat right back whilst your eyes scanned the scenery anxiously, "You're the spineless loser, Per!"

"You fucked my girlfriend, Øystein!" Dead yelled and with his words you noticed Metallion and Jan Axel staring right at you, nothing but drunk confusion washing over their faces.

"And you pathetic fuck got off to it!" Euronymous had to duck down to dodge an empty beer bottle being sent his way.

"You what?!" You directed the question right at your boyfriend before you noticed a tell-tale damp and soaked-through spot right around his zipper.

"Yes, please tell her how you stood outside the room jerking off to your girl breaking down in front of me, Per!" Your bewildered stare rushed towards Øystein now.

"Huh? You…you saw him or what now?!?" The guitarist shrugged his shoulders and nodded.

"What the fuck is going on in here?" Jan Axel tried to intervene but both Per and Øystein shushed him almost simultaneously.

"You shut the fuck up!" Pelle sneered, looking like he was about ready to throw one of the plenty empty bottles of beer after his drummer too.

"No.", You huffed, wrapping your leather jacket around your torso to shield you from the creeping cold, "He actually got a point, because…what the hell?!"

"Pumpkin, I can explain, I promise." Per raised his hands in a soothing manner but you didn't feel like having any of it.

"Don't you dare sweet-talk me now, Pelle! You've been pushing me away for months but…you get off to, well, this?" You indirectly confirmed all that had been happening between Øystein and you.

"No. Just no. You know what? Fuck you. Fuck this shit. I'm not even remotely drunk enough to deal with this shitshow right now." To undoubtedly cement your point, you took a few swift steps toward Øystein who was looking at you with wide eyes as you fished for the pack of cigarettes in his pocket, drawing one for yourself before deliberately putting it to your lips.

"Yes, I fucked Øystein.", You threw your hands into the air after lighting the cigarette, "Maybe I should've done that much sooner, who knows?"

The last sentence was solely aimed to hurt Per as much as he had hurt you.

"Fucking hell, I'm so sick of all this dysfunctional shit…", You just shook your head before heading back inside, "Better none of you disrupt the date I have with a piss-warm bottle of Jägermeister now or you fucking bet I'll cut your dick off!"

#tam rambles #asks are appreciated #asks are always open #rory culkin #rory culkin lords of chaos #lords of chaos #jack kilmer #euronymous x reader #euronymous smut #euronymous #dead lords of chaos #euronymous x fem!reader #dead x fem!reader #jack kilmer smut #jack kilmer x fem!reader #mayhem fic #mayhem

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thatsthewrongwallcraig · 8 months

Note

I AM BEGGING YOU TO WRITE SOMETHING FOR GABRIEL (one of Rory’s characters) PLEASEEEE😭😭😭

It is my pleasure, anonnie 🖤🫶🏻

Crybaby

Summary: Gabriel throws up his meds…again! At first, you think that he’s just sick of them but there’s more to it…

Pairing: virgin!Gabriel x nurse!fem!Reader

Word Count: - 2.8k

Content Warnings: Psych Ward Smut 18+!, Kinda Angsty On Gabe’s Part, Gabe Being A Manipulative Little Shit But He Doesn’t Mean Any Harm He’s Just Delulu, Throwing Up, Crying, Hurt/Comfort, Mentions Of Medication, Mentions Of Gabe’s Shitty Shitty Family, Pet Names, Reader Absolutely Babying Gabe, A Bit Of Hair Pulling, It’s Giving Mommy Vibes Just Saying, An Attempted Handjob, I Put In A Tiny Easter Egg For All My Fellow New Amsterdam Watchers <3

A/N: A massive Thank You! to @spookyorchid for putting the thoughts about virgin Gabe into my head!

Tagging the horny horde:

@crypticsewerslut @quicksilversg1rl @cc-luvr @icarus-star @milaeth @roryculkinsgf @spookyorchid @arch1viste @whoareyoi @angelsanarchy @blueberrypancakesworld @rocketqueen-world @r0ttenmess @doddernix @svgarcaine @amayalul @basementgrl222 @kristennero-wallacewellsver @iiheartsai @fan-goddess

You're all on your own and

You lost all your friends

You told yourself that

It's not you, it's them

You're one of a kind

And no one understands

But those cry baby tears

Keep coming back again

- Crybaby By Melanie Martinez

Friday, the clock gradually ticked towards 10 P.M.

Nightshift, as per usual. Bleak, cold light against equally pale, white walls. The occasional splatter of random color in the form of a rather contemporary piece of art didn’t exactly help with the eerie atmosphere creeping through Ward 4 like every night after sundown.

With your head looming over an array of documents that were messily scattered across a white-painted desk, you felt your body getting swept by the third Red Bull you’d hammered down about 10 minutes ago, nerve endings buzzing and a stomach twitching in the need to do something, anything but sitting at this damned desk, filling out forms for the dayshift staff. The ballpoint pen between your fingers drew slightly shaky lines as you ticked the boxes for the taken medications after dinner, scribbling down names of substances you could hardly spell out properly even after two years of working here.

The harsh ticking of the clock right behind you, hanging high above locked drawers full of files and pill bottles, echoed in your perked ears, all senses heightened treacherously by the unquestionably unhealthy amount of caffeine rushing through your bloodstream.

You scrunched your nose ever so slightly as the tip of the pen chaffed over the paper, leaving the outlines of the box in a sudden, involuntary jerk of your hand. Footsteps, dull and muffled, nevertheless, still very much audible in your little, open-doored and window-framed bureau.

"My goodness, Gabriel…" You sighed, leaning back and straightening out the wrinkles in your mint-green scrubs before heading out, sliding the ballpoint pen into a little pocket on your chest.

Just like every Friday, Gabe was the only patient left on Ward 4 of the clinic. Everybody else had left for home or wherever after the post-dinner distribution of meds for the residents who needed them. Everybody but poor Gabriel. His family had stopped coming by or god forbid picking him up for the weekends at least 6 months ago. His older brother, Matthew, had stuck to it a little longer than their mother but he, too, eventually had stopped showing his face around here.

Needless to say that it had left Gabriel in absolute shambles. For a long time, it had been nothing but heartbreaking to see how he had gotten his hopes up every Friday after dinner, his bright blue eyes transfixed on the entrance doors, waiting for his brother to waltz in and pick him up to go home, even if it was just for the weekend. However, no one came and with every weekend passing by, Gabe had grown more and more apathetic towards everything and anything surrounding him. You couldn't even blame him…not that you tried to, to begin with, no, you felt wholeheartedly sorry for him. Left behind by his own family just like that. The medical bills were paid and with that, Gabriel was out of their sight and presumably out of their mind, too.

For the first few weeks, Gabe had been acting out on every next-best occasion; food had been thrown, cigarettes flicked into other residents' and staff members' faces until finally, it had calmed down. Now his tantrums were rare and tame compared to the whole storm he used to bring with him. Maybe he'd simply given up on it or therapy was finally doing something for him instead of against him in his already severely fragile state of mind.

Walking along the dimly lit corridor, the nearly sterile clean, unwelcoming linoleum floor squeaking under your trainers, you taunted yourself not to think about it too much because it would only render you sad and sorry for him. Eventually, those thoughts would dig up the pressing need to see Gabe happy for once and those were emotions and wishes you simply had to throw right out of the window whilst working here. You had absolutely no business entertaining personal relations with the residents in here but you sensed an inkling that a part of you was way beyond that already in regards to poor Gabe.

“Hey…Gabe? Are you okay?” You asked through the door before turning the knob to the side to enter.

“Leave me alone!” His sore voice croaked back from the bathroom, the door to it wide open and light emitting from it flooding the rest of the room.

“That’s not exactly what my job requires me to do, Gabe, you know that.” You tried to sound a little humorous about it to take the tension out of the situation.

You knew very well what had happened even before you turned the corner to pass through the doorframe, exhaling a low sigh as you saw Gabe crouching down in front of the toilet bowl.

“Again?” You asked, giving your best to draw any judgment from your tone.

“Hate ‘em.” It blubbered from Gabe’s lips in a choked-back whine.

“I know…I know you don’t like the meds.” In a soothing manner, you sat down next to him on the bathroom tiles, your back leaning against the wall and arms slumped between your slightly parted knees.

“Make me feel drowsy and tired all the time…” Gabe sniffled, wiping his mouth with a scrunched-up ball of toilet paper before tossing it in the bowl.

“I know…” You sighed, turning your face towards him, “But it won’t get any better when you throw them up all the time, no? It’s not good for your throat, your teeth and you're not doing your body any favor with it, angel face.”

Gabriel whirled his head around at the mention of his very own, little pet name you gave him a while ago. It never failed to draw his fickle attention towards you.

“But I hate them…” He groaned, repeating his obvious dislike towards the pills he had to swallow daily.

“Maybe you wouldn’t hate them so much if you gave your body some time to adjust to them, huh? I know they suck, make you tired and give you a bit of a tummy ache from time to time but, you know, I think that maybe your body just needs a while to get used to the medication.” You arched your brows a little, tilting your head to the side with a faint smile ghosting around your mouth.

“Hmm…”, Gabriel pouted at you, his bright blue eyes covered with a watery sheen, indicating that he wasn’t far from spilling tears, “‘m not gonna take them, no, nuh-uh, never.”

“C’mon now, I know you can be a good boy tomorrow, no? Just try it. Two weeks tops and you’ll feel better.” Trying to convince him would take a good while but it wasn’t entirely impossible.

“No.” He stated bluntly, his chin lowering towards his chest as the first droplets gushed over his lower lashline.

“It’s okay, Gabe, it’s okay…come here.” Against all rules and guidelines, you raised your arm and offered Gabriel to crawl into a tender embrace.

He sobbed quietly as he shoved his face against your chest, a wash of new tears soaking into your scrubs, rendering the mint-green darker.

“I’m sure you can do that, Gabe. I promise to be with you on the weekends like always, yeah?” You tried to soothe him, your arm wrapped around his shaking statue for your fingers to play with the hairs falling down to the nape of his neck.

“You…you’re..”, He tried to catch his jittery breath, “Y-You’re the only one who’s here for me. Everybody else just hates me. I know they do!”

At his words your stomach dropped, twisting and coiling in a surge of painful compassion for the hurt Gabriel was in. You knew it all too well yourself.

“Don’t say that, Gabe. I don’t think anybody here hates you. Just the other day Rose and Henry asked you if you want to play cards with them, remember?” Trying to guide him to do the same, you allowed your body to relax against his, your angled knees stretching out over the bathroom tiles.

“But only because Dr. Frome made them ask me…” Gabe blubbered against your collarbone, taking your new position as an opportunity to sneak himself right onto your lap, his fingers clawing at your sides.

“Gabe, hey…”, You tried to admonish not only him but yourself as well that he was clearly crossing a boundary here, “Angel face, you can’t do that, please.”

“Hmhmmm…”, He whined, slightly pressing his front against your chest, nuzzling his forehead into the crook of your neck, strands of his hair brushing over your skin, “Please, just for a moment. N-nobody here hugs me...ever.”

With a slightly choked-back sigh, you gave in to his plea to be held for a moment. You knew that the two of you were the only ones left on Ward 4 and that wouldn’t change until Monday morning. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to comfort Gabriel in a way he craved while nobody else was watching.

“Only if you are honest with me for a moment, Gabe.” You squinted down at his face, a warm smile tugging at the corners of your mouth as you saw that he had his eyes closed, features all relaxed and calm while the last few tears trickled over his slightly blushed cheek.

“Uh-huh…” He hummed quietly.

“I have the feeling there might be another reason for you throwing up your meds, angel face…” You proposed, watching his expression change ever so slightly. Caught.

“What do you mean?” Gabriel tried to act innocent.

“I think you know just fine what I mean, Gabe, don’t you?” To coax the answer out of him, your fingers crept into the thick of his hair from his neck on upwards, tugging a bit more vigorously at a few strands.

“Hmhmm, h-hey…” It fell from his lips as something in between a whine and a bashful moan.

“Oh... “ You actively forgot yourself for a moment and pulled at his hair again to make Gabe squeak out once more.

“Mmmm…wanted your attention.” He confessed eventually, hiding his increasingly blushing face in the curve of your shoulder where the tip of his nose grazed right over your pulse point.

“See? Good boy.” You stopped tugging but left your fingers to brush through his soft hair repeatedly.

“Am I?” His warm breath gingerly blew over your exposed skin, sending a wave of treacherous goosebumps all over your chest, causing your nipples to perk up against the inside of your bra.

“Yes, most of the time you are.”; You led your eyes to wander from his face over his striped shirt down to his checkered shorts, a visible bulge pushing against the fabric, “But you’d be an even better boy for me if you’d take your meds, yeah? Do you think you can do that for me tomorrow, Gabe?”

“Maybe…”, He reluctantly started agreeing, “I can try…”

“That’s a start.”, You cooed into the crown of his head, desperately holding on to your reason to not get horribly side-tracked by Gabe’s openly showing arousal, “And when you want my attention you know where to find me, no? Just come and talk to me next time, yeah?”

One part of you felt terribly sorry for him as an individual whereas the other part pitied him for being a man in his early twenties, stuck in a psych ward with little to no privacy. You knew just all too well that there wasn’t much to do around besides playing cards, smoking an ungodly amount of cigarettes out of boredom, or jerking off given the next best opportunity to and you’d lie if you said that you hadn’t noticed it before…haven’t heard him getting off as you walked through the ward on patrol.

“I don’t mean it like that…” A new flush of red surged into his cheeks.

“Huh?” Before you even had so much as the chance to utter a fully formed question, Gabriel’s lips were on your jaw, softly pressing into your skin in an almost shy peck that sent your senses grasping for better judgment.

He did it again, his soft lips creeping closer towards yours this time.

“Mmmm…w-want your attention like that. Do you like that?” He quipped, his mouth latching on to the corner of your mouth curiously.

“No, Gabe, stop!” You forced yourself to pull your head away from him, looking at him with wide eyes as his glacier-blue stared right back.

“No?” He winced, his voice oozing with emotional hurt.

“Sorry, angel face, I’m so sorry. Yes, yes, I do like that very much but we can’t, do you understand that? I’ll get fired when someone finds out, Gabe.” It rambled out of your mouth, mind and body fighting for the high ground right now.

“Well, nobody has to find out, duh.” His brows furrowed, a dead-pan expression on his face as if your worries were the most unreasonable he’d ever heard.

“Gabe…listen.” He made you shut up by raising one hand to his mouth, imitating the motion of turning a key in a lock before tossing the key.

“ ‘M not gonna say anything, I promise, I’m going to be a good boy.” Hearing him talk to you like that, the pleading and begging in his eyes beaming right at you nearly threatened to kill you on the spot.

“Gabe..” Repeating his name in a weak attempt to pull yourself together did absolutely nothing, instead, the young man sitting all curled up in your lap leaned in to press a daring kiss directly to your lips this time.

“Please…”, He practically moaned into your slightly agape mouth, craving, “Had nobody to do all that with before.”

“No one?” You looked at him, an awkward sense of morally gray compassion mixed into your own arousal.

“Nuh-uh.” Gabriel shook his head softly, his eyes glued to your lips.

For a split second, you pondered, heavy thoughts racing through your mind like bullets until one hit the control panel, causing a collateral shutdown.

“Fuck it, come here.” Your own breath hitched as your hand reached out to cradle his face gently, pulling his head toward yours until you were the one to kiss him.

Gabriel’s little mewls and moans filled your ears whilst your other hand brushed down his chest, across the waistband of his shorts, your palm teasingly brushing over his hard cock that was straining against the fabric heavily.

“Do that again..please…” He whined into the kiss, hips squirming to get another touch of your hand against his hard-on.

“Ask nicely, Gabe.” You instructed him, feeling a certain wetness pooling between your thighs.

“Please touch me there again..”, Gabriel’s voice broke as he tried to stutter a plea, “P-pretty please!”

It nearly knocked the air from your lungs and you felt the intoxication flood your bloodstream as you granted him his wish, now stroking over his clothed cock with the full length of your hand, fingers tracing the silhouette.

“Hmm…feels so fucking good, please don’t stop.” After breaking from the kiss, he nuzzled his face back into the crook of your neck, his shallow breaths hitting your jaw at a desperate, needy pace.

“Didn’t plan to, don’t worry.”, You planted a quick smooch on his temple, feeling like you were about to lose your mind over him, “My goodness, you’re so hard right now, aren’t you, Gabe?”

“Uh-huh, f-feels so good already.” It sounded as if he was about to start crying again, this time out of newly found pleasures.

“Fuck, ah…no. Shit.” The words rambled out of Gabriel’s mouth and felt immediately why.

His hip rocked and quivered against the palm of your hand, his entire body grew tense as he clawed at your scrubs whilst a puddle of wet soaked through his shorts, his cock pulsing and throbbing underneath.

“Oh, don’t you worry about that. You’ll last a little longer next time.” You clutched his trembling torso against you, peppering his forehead with quick kisses, your heart hammering against your ribcage as a sense of realization started to dawn on you.

“Next time?” Gabriel hummed, a curious tone in his voice.

“We have the entire weekend now, don’t we?”

#tam rambles #asks are appreciated #asks are always open #rory culkin #gabriel #gabriel 2014 #gabriel x reader #gabriel x fem!reader #gabriel smut

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