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freshl6ve · 3 months ago

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𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒.𝐒 | 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄

NSFW!! | 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑─𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊

₊⊹⁀➴ : While Chris and Matt Sturniolo are live streaming, Chris starts getting playful and teasing messages from Y/N, who is just downstairs in his room. The messages grow increasingly flirtatious until Y/N finally tells Chris to come downstairs. Intrigued and eager, Chris leaves Matt and heads to his room, where he is greeted by Y/N for a private and intimate encounter.

𝐀 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐋𝟔𝐕𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄-𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋

˚⊱🦌⊰˚ : 𝐈 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞, watching as Matt and Chris banter and play games on the screen. I'm lying on Chris' bed, patiently waiting for them to wrap up their stream so I can have him all to myself. The room is dimly lit and the soft scent of Chris' cologne hangs in the air. I prop myself up on my elbow and continue to watch the screen, feeling a tingle of excitement at the thought of having some alone time with Chris soon.

The chat continues to fly by, filled with messages from fans and Chris' and Matt's reactions to them. As I watch the screen, I can't help but notice how good Chris looks, even through the pixilated video feed. His hair falls into his eyes as he laughs and his voice has a certain huskiness that I can't help but find sexy.

I switch from the twitch app to my messages, opening up Chris's chat. A smile spreads across my lips as I type out a message: “you look really good in black you know.”

I hit send and wait, feeling a flutter of anticipation. This live stream has been going on for a while now and I know Chris usually checks his phone during it.

I watch intently as Chris grabs his phone, undoubtedly to check for any new notifications. His eyes widen slightly as he sees the message from me, and a sly smile curves across his lips.

It's clear that he is trying to hold back a reaction for the livestream. His eyes dart around the room quickly, checking to see if Matt is paying attention.

I watch as Chris' fingers move quickly over the screen of his phone, typing out his reply: “you watching the live?”

He shoots a quick glance at the camera, making sure his facial expressions are in check. The subtle smirk on his lips betrays him though, revealing that he's excited to be texting me while on camera.

I quickly type back, my fingers moving almost as fast as my heartbeat: “yeah. you look good”

As I send the message, I can see Chris read it on the screen. He keeps his expression neutral, but I know he's feeling a rush of excitement.

My heart beats faster as an idea pops into my head. I decide to have a little fun with Chris, and type out a new message.

“can't stop thinking about you”

I hit send and watch, wondering how he'll respond with Matt right there next to him.

I can see the moment Chris reads my message. His eyes widen slightly and his lips part in surprise. He glances up at the camera, making sure that his expression doesn't give away what he's feeling.

He quickly types out a response, trying to keep it casual: “is that so?”

I grin as I type out a bold reply, feeling a rush of excitement at messing with Chris on camera.

“yeah, watching you right now is making me want to do things”

I send the message and watch as Chris reads it. His eyes widen, clearly surprised by my forwardness while he's on camera.

I watch as Chris reads my message, a mix of excitement and frustration playing across his handsome face. He quickly types out a message back, trying to maintain his cool.

“don't do this to me y/n”

He glances up at the camera, making sure his expression doesn't betray the effect my message is having on him.

I smirk as I read Chris' reply, feeling empowered by the effect I'm having on him. I type out another message, upping the ante even further:

“can't help but think of all the things I'd let you do to me rn”

I hit send and watch as Chris' eyes widen even more, his cheeks flushing a deeper shade of red.

Chris reads my message and lets out a low chuckle, clearly torn between wanting to respond to my flirting and having to keep up appearances on camera.

“behave yourself” he types back, his fingers flying over the keypad.

He glances up at the camera, realizing how close he is to losing his composure.

I grin as I see Chris' response. He's clearly struggling to keep his cool, but he's determined to maintain his public persona.

I can't resist sending one more message, determined to push him further:

“make me”

Chris reads my message and let's out a slow exhale, clearly struggling to keep his cool. It's clear that he's growing more turned on, but he's determined to maintain his composure with the livestream going on. His fingers fly over the keypad as he typess his response:

“you know I would, but I can't right now”

I can see the internal battle playing out across his face, his desire for me warring with his sense of responsibility to Matt and the stream.

I bite my lip as I start to type out a response, feeling a delicious sense of power over Chris.

“can't stop thinking about your lips on my skin”

I send the message and watch as Chris' eyes widen further, his composure starting to slip. His cheeks redden and his breaths become more shallow as he reads my message. He glances up at the camera again, hoping that his expression isn't betraying the effect I'm having on him.

I'm feeling bold now, knowing that I have Chris completely at my mercy. I type out another message, this one even more explicit than the last:

“imagining your hands all over me, touching me everywhere”

I hit send and watch as Chris' mouth falls open slightly, his eyes locked on the screen. He can't believe that I'm sending him these texts right now, with Matt sitting right next to him.

Matt suddenly pipes up, noticing that Chris is still staring at his phone. “Chris, get off your phone!”

Chris starts, looking up at Matt with a guilty expression. He quickly closes his phone and sets it aside, clearly embarrassed at getting caught by his brother.

He shoots a quick glance at the camera, a mix of frustration and desire in his eyes. He knows that I'm still able to see him through the screen.

Even though Chris isn't looking at his phone anymore, it keeps on vibrating in his pocket. With each buzz, he seems to grow more fidgety, clearly distracted by the dirty messages I'm sending him.

I can tell he's torn between wanting to read my messages and wanting to pay attention to the stream. I continue to send him text after text, describing in excruciating detail the things I want him to do to me. Every word feels like a challenge, testing his willpower and his commitment to staying on the stream.

As the stream goes on, Chris can't take it anymore. He reaches for his phone in his pocket and reads my most recent message:

“leave Matt and come downstairs for a bit please? I need you. now”

He reads the message, a mixture of desire and hesitation flashing across his face. He glances up at Matt, who is still focused on streaming, then back down at his phone. He doesn't want to just abandon the stream, but the lure of being with me is too strong.

Chris gets up and leans in close to Matt's ear, his voice dropping to a velvety whisper.

“I'll be right back.”

The viewers in the live chat go wild, clearly eager to see what's going to happen. Even Matt looks a little taken aback by Chris' tone.

Chris turns and walks out of Matt's room, making his way downstairs to his room. His steps are quick and purposeful, driven by the desire to be with me.

I look up from my phone as Chris enters the room, a smile spreading across my face at the sight of him. He looks flushed and flustered, his eyes darkened with desire. He closes the door behind him, shutting out the rest of the world and leaving us alone together.

Chris strides over to the bed and stands before me, his gaze burning with desire. He reaches down and cups my chin, tilting my face up towards him.

“You drive me crazy, you know that?” He murmurs, his voice low and husky.

Without another word, he pulls me into a deep and hot kiss, his lips claiming mine with a possessive intensity.

I moan softly as Chris kisses me, my body responding instantly to his touch. I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him closer as our mouths move together in a passionate dance. I can feel the heat of his desire, the need that he's been holding back during the livestream, finally breaking free.

As we kiss, my hands start to wander. I slide my hand under the hem of Chris' shirt, feeling the warm, hard muscles of his stomach. He inhales deeply at my touch, his skin prickling with goosebumps.

I run my fingers up and down his skin, tracing the planes of his abdomen and feeling his heart race under my touch.

As I explore his body with my hands, Chris can't hold back any longer. He takes control, gently pushing me back onto the bed and pinning me beneath him.

His body covers mine, his weight pressing me into the mattress. He gazes down at me, his eyes smoldering with desire.

Chris gazes down at me, a wicked smile playing on his lips.

“You just couldn't wait after the stream, could you?” He asks, his voice dripping with desire. “You just had to pull me away.”

He leans down and starts to trail kisses along my neck, his lips and tongue teasing my skin.

Chris kisses his way down my neck and pauses to murmur into my ear.

“Think about all the Chris girls on that live that can't see me right now because you wanted me here, with you, like this,” he says, his voice husky and seductive. He nips at my earlobe, making me shudder in response.

Chris pulls back slightly and looks down at me, his eyes dark with desire. “Now I'm gonna give you what you wanted,” he whispers, “and you better stay quiet.”

He leans in and captures my mouth in another deep kiss, silencing any protests or moans that might escape me.

I kiss him back, unable to resist the pull of his lips on mine. My body is already thrumming with desire, every inch of me desperate for his touch.

His hands roam over my body, caressing and teasing, leaving trails of heat wherever he touches. I arch up into him, wanting more, needing more.

“You're so beautiful,” Chris murmurs against my mouth, his lips moving over my jaw and down my neck. “So perfect.”

His hands find the hem of my shirt and start to tug it upwards, his fingers skimming over my skin as he exposes more and more of me.

I shiver under his touch, the feel of his hands on my skin sending shivers down my spine. I lift my arms willingly as he pulls my shirt over my head, leaving my upper body bare.

He gazes down at me with something like worship in his eyes, his hands smoothing over my skin as if he's memorising the feel of me.

Chris leans down and starts to kiss and nip at my jaw, his lips trailing down my neck and to my collarbone. He sucks at the sensitive skin, leaving behind little love bites that make me gasp and moan.

His hands continue their exploration, caressing my skin and leaving a trail of fire wherever they go. As he reaches my chest, he pauses, looking up at me with a devilish grin.

I let out a whimper as Chris kisses his way down my chest, his tongue tracing a path over my sensitive skin.

“Chris,” I whisper, my voice almost a moan. “Please.”

He looks up at me, his eyes dark with desire. He knows what I'm asking for, what I'm begging for, and he's in no hurry to give it to me.

“Patience,” he murmurs, his breath hot against my skin. “I know what you want, but I'm going to make you wait for it.”

He continues his exploration, his hands and lips caressing and teasing everywhere but the places I crave his touch the most.

I writhe beneath him, desperate for some kind of release. Every touch of his mouth, every drag of his fingers, is like a sweet torture, building the tension coiled deep inside me until I feel like I might explode.

“Chris, please,” I gasp, my voice ragged with need. “I can't take it anymore.”

He lifts his head and looks down at me, a smirk playing on his lips. He knows how desperate I am, how helpless beneath his touch I've become.

Chris leans back, his gaze traveling down my body to where my sweatpants and underwear sit on my hips. He reaches out and hooks his fingers into my waistband, his eyes fixed on mine.

“Lift up,” he instructs, his voice rough with desire. “Up.”

I shiver as his hands move over my skin, the cool air hitting me as my clothes are removed. I lie bare before him, completely at his mercy.

Chris's eyes roam over my body, taking in every inch of me. He looks like he wants to devour me, but he's holding himself back, determined to savor every moment.

He leans down once more, his lips and tongue trailing over my skin, leaving a path of fire in their wake. His hands move over my hips, gripping me tightly as he moves his mouth lower and lower, towards the place where I need him the most.

Chris's lips move from my stomach to my thighs, his mouth hot and wet against my skin. He nips and sucks at the sensitive flesh, leaving behind marks that I know will be there tomorrow.

Chris eagerly obliges, spreading my legs apart and burying his face between my thighs. His tongue expertly works on my most sensitive areas, eliciting moans and gasps from me. The heat in my body continues to build as the pleasure consumes me.

His fingers join his mouth, slowly pushing into me as his tongue swirls around my core. The dual sensation is almost too much to bear, and I find myself writhing beneath him, my hands gripping his hair tightly. The pressure inside me grows, coiling like a spring ready to snap.

“Oh god, Chris! Oh fuck!” I moan loudly, my voice echoing through the room as the pleasure becomes unbearable. My back arches off the bed, pushing my hips against his face as he eats me out with reckless abandon.

Chris pulls back just enough to speak, his voice barely above a whisper. “Shh, baby. Keep it down.” His fingers continue to work their magic inside me as he returns his mouth to my clit, silencing any further sounds I might make with his tongue.

I hold onto his hair tightly, my fingers tangled in the strands as I struggle to keep quiet. The pressure in my body builds to a breaking point, my thighs trembling against his ears as he eats me out. I bite my lip, trying to stifle my moans, but it's no use.

As I get closer to the edge, my thighs involuntarily clamp shut around his head. Chris simply grips my thighs firmer, his strong hands prying them apart once more. He lifts his head just enough to growl, “Keep them open for me,”

My heart races at his command, and I immediately comply. Chris's tongue returns to my clit, now wetter than ever. He teases me with every swipe of his tongue, driving me wild with pleasure. It's barely a minute before I'm on the brink again.

“Chris... Fuck...” I whimper, my voice strained. He knows I'm close. He grips my thighs harder, his fingers digging into my flesh as he intensifies his efforts. His fingers thrust inside me, curving upwards to hit that spot that makes my eyes roll back.

Chris lifts my legs and drapes them over his shoulders, opening me wider to him. With this new angle, his tongue and fingers delve even deeper, and I can't hold back any longer. My body convulses as a powerful wave of sensation washes over me. “Chris!”

My legs shake violently against his shoulders as my orgasm rips through me. Chris laps up my cream, devouring every last drop. He doesn't stop until I'm limp and spent, my thighs quivering like leaves in the wind. Finally, he pulls away, his face glistening with my juices.

Chris leans over me, his face inches from mine. He looks into my eyes with a mischievous glint, his breath warm against my lips. “You need to learn how to keep that pretty mouth of yours quiet,” he says, his voice low and commanding.

“Should I teach you how?”

I can't help myself. I reach up and pull Chris closer, our lips meeting in a passionate kiss. My tongue darts out, tracing his bottom lip before delving into his mouth. “Please,”

I break the kiss to look up at Chris, my hands trembling as I reach for the hem of his shirt. I slowly lift it up, revealing his toned abdomen and chest. His skin is warm to the touch as I carefully remove the shirt, letting it fall to the floor.

I reach out and help him, my fingers brushing against the soft fabric of his boxers as I pull them down. Chris steps out of them, standing before me in all his glory. His erect member stands tall, the tip glistening with precum. I swallow hard, my mouth watering at the sight.

Chris's voice is firm as he says, “On the floor, now.” I obey, sliding off the bed and onto my knees in front of him. He steps closer, his hand wrapping around his shaft as he begins to slowly stroke himself. “Open your mouth,” he commands.

I part my lips, my eyes fixed on his member as he guides it towards my mouth. He pushes the head past my lips, and I wrap my lips around the shaft, sucking gently as I look up at him. Chris groans, his hand still stroking himself as he watches me. “Good girl,”

He guides me, his hand on the back of my head as he slowly pushes more of his length into my mouth. I relax my jaw and take him deeper, the tip hitting the back of my throat. I gag a little but breathe through my nose and take more of him. “That's it, baby.”

Chris starts face-fucking me harder, his hands gripping my head as he holds me in place. I struggle to breathe, my nose pressed against his cock as he pounds my face. He pulls out just enough to growl, “Shut the fuck up,” before slamming back into my mouth.

Tears stream down my face as he silences me with his body, the sound of wet, gagging chokes filling the room. His pace quickens, his hips jackhammering as he hits the back of my throat over and over. “See how quiet you can be now?”

My eyes water, and spit dribbles down my chin as he ruthlessly face-fucks me. My arms flail, gripping his thighs for support as he destroys my mouth. The pressure in my head builds, and I feel lightheaded, but he doesn't stop. “Look at me,”

Chris hisses, his face contorted with pleasure as he stares down at me. I meet his gaze, tears clouding my vision as he continues to pound into my mouth. “So beautiful, taking it all so well. You're going to swallow every drop, understand?”

I nod, my nose pressed against his cock as he fucks my face brutally. He starts to thrust even harder, the head of his dick slamming against the back of my throat with each pump. I feel him swell, his balls tightening as he prepares to cum. “Fuck, I'm gonna—”

His body tenses for a moment before he erupts, the first spurt hitting the back of my throat. He groans, his entire body shuddering as he empties himself inside me. I struggle to swallow his cum, some escaping my lips and dribbling down my chin.

Chris slowly pulls out, his hand wiping the mess from my chin and smearing it across my lips. “Clean it up,” he growls, his eyes filled with satisfaction. I obediently lick my lips and suck his fingers clean, my gaze never leaving his face. “Good girl,” he praises.

Chris helps me back onto the bed, his hands gripping my thighs as he spreads my legs wide. He settles between them, his voice a low rumble in my ear. “Now, I'll give you what you wanted.”

“I'm going to fuck you so hard,” he whispers, his breath hot against my skin. “You won't need to drag me back down here for a second round. I'll fuck you into oblivion, and you'll be too fucking exhausted to move.”

Chris thrusts forward, his cock filling me to the hilt. I cry out in pleasure as he begins to piston in and out of me, each stroke more intense than the last. His fingers dig into my hips as he takes what he wants.

My entire body quivers with each thrust, my back arching off the bed as he pounds into me. Each stroke sends a wave of pleasure crashing through me, my eyes fluttering closed as I succumb to the overwhelming sensations.

“Oh God, Chris,” I pant. “Don't stop.” His lips quirk upward in a smirk as he continues to pump his hips. The head of his cock rubs against my g-spot with each thrust, sending me spiraling deeper into bliss.

Chris drives his entire length inside me, bottoming out as his hips meet mine. He leans forward, his hands braced on either side of my head as he hovers above my face. His thumb reaches down between our joined bodies, expertly rubbing my swollen bud. “Look at me,” he demands.

“Stop...can't take it,” I gasp, my fingers tightening around his forearm as he continues to toy with my overstimulated nub. Tears stream down my cheeks, mixing with the sweat that beads on my skin. “Shh, baby. You can take it,” Chris murmurs.

Kissing my neck gently, Chris never misses a beat while thrusting his hips into me. His fingers continue to tease around my clit as he whispers sweet nothings in my ear. Each circle of his fingertips brings me closer to the edge of pleasure.

Keeping his promise, Chris thrusts himself in and out of me with forceful passion. The headboard hits the wall as he picks up the pace. I cry out his name, digging my nails into his back as I feel every inch of him filling me completely.

Chris thrusts harder, panting heavily as he looks at me with a mix of lust and amusement. “Is this what you wanted? Wanted to be fucked like a slut who can't wait until I'm done interacting with my fans?” He growls.

“You couldn't wait, could you? Had to have me now,” Chris hisses, his voice thick with desire. “Well, baby, you're gonna get it. I'm gonna pound into you until you can't walk straight.” His hands grip my hips tightly as he continues to thrust into me.

Chris's hips slap against mine, our bodies slick with sweat. He fucks me like he promised, mercilessly and without restraint. His dirty talk only fuels my pleasure.

I moan as Chris pounds into me, my voice reverberating off the walls of the room. Suddenly, he covers my mouth with his hand, silencing me. His thrusts become even more relentless as he takes me hard and deep.

Tears of pleasure stream down my face as Chris fucks me with a ferocity that leaves me breathless. He's so deep, hitting spots inside me that I never knew existed. My entire body shakes with each powerful thrust, his hand still covering my mouth to muffle my cries.

“You like that?” Chris grunts, his eyes locked onto mine as he continues to pound into me. “Can't scream, can't beg for more. You're helpless beneath me, taking everything I give you.” He growls possessively, his hips moving like a piston.

I nod frantically, unable to speak with Chris's hand covering my mouth. My pussy clenches around his cock as he continues to thrust deeply into me, each stroke driving me closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy.

“Hopefully this teaches you patience,” Chris hisses, his hips slapping against mine. “Next time, you'll wait for me until I’m finished with whatever I’m doing, won't you?” His hand tightens over my mouth as he pounds into me harder, marking me as his. “Won't you?”

I whimper in agreement, my eyes rolling back as he continues to stretch and fill me. His face is inches from mine, his breath hot against my skin. “Good girl,” he praises darkly, his voice laced with dominance.

Chris removes his hand from my mouth, his arm wrapping around my waist to pull me even closer. I cling to his back, my fingers digging into his skin as he continues to thrust into me with brutal intensity. My cries of passion fill the room, mingling with the sound of our bodies colliding.

Chris reaches up and grabs both my wrists, pinning my arms above my head. Our intertwined fingers grip the sheets tightly as he continues to pound into me, his hips driving forward in a relentless rhythm. I'm helpless beneath him, completely at his mercy now. “Keep your hands there,”

he commands, his voice strained with exertion. I nod frantically, my hands remaining pinned above my head as he fucks me senseless. The position forces me to arch my back, pushing my breasts further into his chest with each thrust. The head of his dick slamming against my cervix with each thrust. The pressure builds in my core, signaling an impending orgasm, but Chris shows no signs of slowing down.

Chris leans down and kisses me passionately, his tongue sliding against mine in a dance that mirrors its lower half's rhythm. The dual sensation of his kiss and the punishing thrusts of his hips is almost too much to bear. I gasp into his mouth as the pressure in my core becomes unbearable.

Chris whispers against my lips, “Cum with me, baby.” The words send me over the edge, and my orgasm crashes over me like a wave. I scream into his mouth as my walls clench around his dick, squeezing him tight as the pleasure consumes me.

Chris leans his head against my shoulder, his breath hot against my skin. “You did so good, baby,” he praises softly, his voice laced with affection. He continues to thrust into me slowly, drawing out the last remnants of our shared pleasure. “So. Damn. Good.”

Chris slowly pulls out, and a flood of liquid trickles down onto his bedsheets. He looks at the mess with a satisfied smirk. “Look at what you did to my bed,” he chuckles. “I'll clean it up later.”

Chris walks to the bathroom and returns with a warm, damp rag. He gently cleans me off, his touch tender as he wipes away the evidence of our passion. “There you go,” he murmurs, tossing the soiled cloth aside. “All clean.”

Chris gets up and changes back into his clothes, his movements calm and relaxed. He sits back on the bed “I should probably go back up now,” he says, standing up again.

I pout, wrapping my arms around myself as he prepares to leave. “You have to go back up there?” I ask sadly, wishing he could stay with me instead of returning to the live stream with Matt. He walks back to the bed and leans down to kiss me softly.

“I'm sorry, baby. I promise I'll make it up to you later,” he whispers, his hand cupping my cheek. “Matt's probably wondering where I am.” He kisses me once more before straightening up and heading for the door. “Stay in bed.”

After one last lingering look at me, Chris turns and heads out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

He takes a moment to compose himself, then heads back upstairs to Matt's room, silently praying that his brother won't notice the change in his appearance or demeanor.

As he enters Matt's room, Chris does his best to act nonchalant, trying to conceal the fact that he was just with me.

Matt looks up as he enters, his expression curious. “Where were you?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

Chris tries to act casual as he answers Matt's question, his mind still preoccupied bythoughts of what he just did with me.

“I was in the bathroom,” he replies, hoping that his voice doesn't betray his guilty conscience.

To cover his tracks, Chris decides to add a bit more detail to his story. “Then I got a bit hungry so I got a snack,” he says, hoping his excuses sound believable.

Chris sits back down in front of the camera, his mind still half-focused on me and the passion we'd just shared. He starts to read the chat, seeing that the viewers are all commenting on their excitement now that he's back.

He sees compliments and encouragement, everyone commenting on how they missed him and how glad they are that he's back.

He reads through the chat, replying to a few comments and trying to act casually while my scent still lingers on his clothes and skin.

It's hard to focus on the stream, his mind still consumed by thoughts of what just happened. But he tries his best to put on a good show for the viewers, laughing and joking with Matt like nothing unusual has happened.

Every so often, he glances up at the camera, wondering if anyone suspects how he's feeling. But the viewers are all too caught up in the stream to notice the slight flush of his cheeks or the way he keeps rubbing his neck.

I decide to join the live, curious to see how Chris is holding up after our earlier encounter.

As I watch the stream, I can see that Chris looks a little flushed and disheveled, his hair messier than usual and his clothes slightly askew. Despite this, he still looks incredibly attractive, the memory of our passionate moment written subtly across his face.

I watch the stream intently, my eyes fixed on Chris as rolls his head, his mouth falling open like if he was receiving head. Something about the sight of his exposed neck makes me shiver, and I can feel my desire starting to stir once more.

I quickly pull out my phone and type out a message: “god you look so good might have to go for a round two.”

After sending the message, I glance back up at the stream, watching as Chris's phone vibrates in his pocket. He reaches for it, pulling it out and seeing the notification from me.

His eyes widen in surprise, and he quickly scans the message, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. He looks back up at the camera, trying to maintain his composure as he reads my message again.

He takes a moment to respond, typing out a message quickly but discreetly. “Don't tempt me,” he writes, his thumb hovering over the send button for a moment before pressing it.

I can't resist teasing him a bit more as I text back, my fingers flying across the screen. “Maybe the Chris girls can wait another few minutes, your main Chris girl needs that Chris dick badly.”

After reading my latest message, Chris chuckles and shakes his head, trying to keep his expression neutral so as not to arouse suspicion from Matt or the viewers. He quickly types out a response.

“I'll be down in a few minutes after we're done streaming, be patient baby.”

He sends the message and then puts his phone away, his mind now fully focused on the stream and trying to get through the remainder of it without letting on how eager he is to be with me again.

#★┊[𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒.𝐒] .ᐟ 🦌₊˚⊹#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturiolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #smut #freshl6ve

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thetravelingtyper · 7 months ago

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Our Shattered Heart Interlude (Part 3.00) KG (GN! 'Heart' Reader x Taskforce 141)

Loading Track 4 - Missing Piece by Vance Joy (Kyle Garrick One Shot). With Simon and Johnny gone for the day, you and Kyle spend the day together.

Warnings: None!

Part 2.75, Part 4, Masterlist

God I freaking LOVED writing this! Enjoy - Ash

Our Shattered Heart 3.00 Interlude Kyle Garrick (...Loading Track 4…)- Missing Piece by Vance Joy

Sunlight filtered through partially drawn blinds. The noise of London heightened in the rising day. You curled towards the edge of the bed stirring but an arm swung over you from behind and pulled you back into a firm chest. You stirred, turning over and tucking further into his warmth. His chest rumbles with a low laugh and Kyle presses a kiss into your hair.

“Mornin’ Sweetheart”

You murmur a reply into his chest before pulling out to look at him.

During the early morning, Johnny must have dropped you off with Kyle before he and Simon returned to base. Price had adamantly called them last night in for yet more paperwork and you and Kyle were left alone for the day. He holds you securely, as if afraid for some reason you would slip from him like a waking dream.

I've been waiting for the tides to change

For the waves to send you my way

I see you darling but you pixilate

It gets hard to take these days

You end up rolling out of bed at 9:36 am. You pull yourself into a stretch as Kyle watches sitting at the edge of the bed. There is a buzz of your phone and you pick it up from the nightstand and stifle a laugh. There is a sneaky picture taken of Simon and John by Johnny before there is a blur of a pale hand snatching the phone from him in the next shaky photo. It then buzzes with a message from SImon saying they will not be back until the next day.

You relay this to Kyle who stands and ruffles through the dresser and pulls on a dark green shirt. He passes into the connected bathroom to get ready for the day.

“We could hit the shop.”

He smoothly voices and you call back an affirmation. Food was running low. You chuckle, given the presence of four soldiers, you expected as much. You change into something a bit more street-worthy and pass down the hall and into the kitchen. You open the fridge and laugh, other than a pack of beer, juice, and some eggs you guys were running on empty. You hear footsteps and Kyle enters, arm naturally reaching to you and hand bracing the small of your back and he reaches past you for the juice. He asks if you want a glass and you nod.

You pull out the eggs to start work on breakfast. He hands you a glass and you drink some, eyes squinting at a sour taste before Kyle mirrors the same look.

“That's expired” You chuckle as he spits it out and dumps the glasses in the sink.

“Let’s just go out love.”

You look to the eggs and the expired juice, then to Kyle who has a growing grin. His eyes crinkle as he sees you thinking a moment, then smirks when you accept the inevitable.

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

But we'll hold the line, I won't let go

'Cause I'll be there when you can finally make it home

And I don't mind 'cause we both know

That we'll be fine when you can finally make it home

And that is how you find yourself in a bustling London cafe, with Kyle lounging across from you with the occasional brush of his hand against yours on the table. You relax into the plush chair and savor the flavor of the rich food in front of you. You two had stumbled upon a small family-owned cafe that thrived in the city. People passed in and out with smiles and light conversation and you found a table tucked into a plant-filled corner. Your server had been a little ruffled but smiled nonetheless and jotted down your orders before disappearing into the back.

15 minutes later your pancakes sat in front of you and at the first bite, you fell in love.

“That good huh?”

His laugh melts your heart and the man reaches a fork over expectantly and you let him take a piece, his face then mirroring yours. He looks from his eggs to your pancakes in misery and you sigh before splitting your pancakes and taking his plate and setting half on his plate before passing it back.

He grins at you. You always gave in to his and Johnny's wants so easily.

During a lull in a three-person mission, you paced the safe house kitchen looking for ingredients. You had been wanting something sweet all day and after almost getting yourself killed something domestic would settle your soul. Kyle and Johnny were both fine other than some scuffs but the men had passed out into sleep the moment they hit their respective beds. So that left you in the cold kitchen in some sweats and a sweater baking.

30 minutes of mixing later you folded chocolate chips into a browned butter cookie batter. You had been pleasantly surprised to find not only fresh butter but dark brown sugar. Your signature cookies called for only the best (and most unhealthy) ingredients. You smile as you work, after your last mission with Gaz, he had probably expressed frustration with the food in the safehouses with Price. While remote locations made sense to be meagerly stocked, this mission was more city-side, allowing for more preparation. You set the tray of cookies in the oven to bake as you continue to spoon batter into the tray.

Because when I'm in a room with you

That missing piece is found (oh)

You know when you're by my side, darling

Nothing can bring us down (oh)

Vance Joy’s voice permeates into the chill of the night as you spin in the kitchen. You always liked music, growing up your parent would pull you to parties and other events and leave you to your own devices. When you got promoted in the service your old captain had known about your skill so you always went undercover to events like galas. With a teammate in your arms, you could spin them out and imagine yourself dancing with someone you loved. But service was service and you always put your head down and into the part you played.

---

Things in the 141 had changed in the past month. First, it was Johnny, pressing a swift kiss to the side of your lips. It had triggered something in the team, he and Kyle became your shadows. Especially when members of other teams or Kortac were around. Kyle though became more, well intimate. You both shared a bathroom on base, but he would often end up around you just sharing the space. If you were up early for a run Kyle would pop his head out and call to you for you to wait. He would then match your pace and often brush up against you.

Then before this mission, during discussions with Konig, Kyle would sit himself next to you at the table and just stay on his phone but have a knee consistently bumping yours or an arm brushing yours. Something in your heart settled when Johnny kissed you. Shock of course, but a natural whisper of belonging to something greater as well. If Johnny was flirty before, oh boy was he stuck on you now. Where you were he appeared, a knowing look gleaming in his eye and head cocked in anticipation. You found yourself naturally leaning into the affection now. A hand on your shoulder or an arm slung towards you in a side hug now became a silent sign. You noticed it, especially in the other members of the 141.

Kyle of course in his closeness to you, a step further than before. His meeting your pace, bringing you food, and cooking more in general. If you stepped into the base kitchen it was a silent signal that Kyle materialized and joined you. One time you felt eyes on you as Kyle passed behind you to reach for something in the fridge. You freeze and turn to the entrance of the kitchen. Across from a table of privates and other soldiers eating is Ghost, well Simon, you correct yourself. He is in full gear, leaning against the wall, just watching. When you meet his eyes his soften. You smile at him and turn when Kyle calls your attention, turning back to the risotto. What you don't see is the knowing look from Kyle to your Lieutenant and a shared smile under the mask.

---

The smell of cookies seeps out from the kitchen and in his room, Kyle stirs.

The feelings for you from the 141 were known to all of the men, despite the quieter nature of Price, and Simon, Kyle, and Johnny figured it out from their respective superiors about a year or so after you joined. It was after a risky mission that Johnny lost himself in the spur of the moment. You had just yanked him from death and the surge of pride and love towards you had overtaken his nature. He had fallen first, seeing your interactions with the corporals and privates. You cared for your soldiers. Not to mention you could flip him on his ass so quickly when sparring. Having you so close was intoxicating so he went for it. Pressing soft lips to the side of yours he yearned you to take your head in his hands and pull you down. But the situation of course had sent you spinning off him in a blush before switching back into work mode.

But neither of you forgot that moment. Kyle could see it, a week after Johnny told him while they were at a pub. You had been working with Price on late-night report sessions. Simon leaned back in the booth, hand lifting a glass of bourbon silently while Kyle about smacked the man upside the head.

“What were you thinking?” Johnny just shrugs and throws back the rest of his scotch. No matter what they would say he was still pleased with himself.

“They didn't seem to mind too much.” He says smugly and Kyle throws up a hand in exasperation. They didn’t though. He saw as much when the two interacted. The touches seemed a little more than casual and you subconsciously leaned further into them. The exasperated sighs from the Scot’s flirtatious comments became silent blushes and a stammering biting reply. But what it did most for Kyle was to give him hope.

Kyle awakens fully moments later, slipping out from underneath the sheets and out of the shared bedroom. He approaches the kitchen hearing the sound of an Australian accent singing.

I remember happy wasted days

Summer's golden haze in our eyes

Lifting you above the breakin' waves

Memories floatin' back to my mind

There he finds you singing softly to yourself. You sway quietly on socked feet, the mismatched corgi socks hitting Kyle somewhere deep in his heart. It was this he fell in love with. The quiet singing in the bathroom while you got ready, humming during jogs, or while you and he cooked. Something gripped his heart and he stepped into the kitchen. You turn and jump a little when you see him suddenly, eyes widening at his appearance.

“Are you ok?” You go to turn the music off but he steps into the kitchen making you pause. He is shirtless, something that you silently admire when you don't have to patch the man up. He doesn’t say anything though but there is a look in his eyes. Some swirling brown depth you stumble into. He stops in front of you, looking into your eyes searching. You swallow thickly, the moment feeling intimate as his hand reaches for your face.

A rough palm meets your cheek as Kyle hovers just outside your space. There is a calmness in his eyes then, your heart hammering in your chest. First Johnny, then Kyle sticking to you like glue, you gulp and step forward to meet him.

You said, "Hold the line", I won't let go

'Cause I'll be there when you can finally make it home

And I don't mind 'cause we both know

That we'll be fine when you can finally make it home

It is your hands that seek him, ghosting the sides of his abdomen before curling around him and pulling you to his chest. Kyle's heart hurries along, his arms up in surprise before they settle around you. You tuck your head easily into the crook of his neck. So many nights of staring up at the stars, or cooking. Laughter as you collapse into bed at the end of a mission. It seems to have all led up to this he thinks. He dips his head down and presses a kiss into your hair, Vance Joy’s voice fading into memory.

In the shop, Kyle follows you dutifully with a trolly as you pass into the produce. You set a carton of strawberries in the cart before you debate over what to do for dinner. You look back to Kyle only to find him looking at you with a soft smile on his face.

“What?”

“Nothing Love just admiring the view.”

You flush a little at his comment and the man has the audacity to chuckle. He then leaves the cart and approaches you, arms pulling you in for a kiss on your forehead before releasing you. You frown at the disconnect and while one of his hands pulls the cart you entangle your fingers with his other hand for contact. The smile he gives you lights something in you and you pull him along to fish for dinner ingredients.

Because when I'm in a room with you

That missing piece is found (oh)

You know when you're by my side, darling

Nothing can bring us down (oh)

It's like when you're far away from me

I get lost in the crowd (oh)

Because when I'm in a room with you

That missing piece is found (oh)

After shopping you and Kyle make it back to the apartment in the early evening, groceries quickly filed away for later consumption. While Kyle goes to shower you get to work on dinner for the two of you. You moved around the small kitchen with practiced ease as Vance Joy’s Missing Piece rang out. Something about the song was so nostalgic to you, especially this past week. Maybe your running was what triggered it. Your team, your men came after you. Not that you wouldn't have returned but something more in their eyes and heart surrounded you. As you tend to the stove Kyle enters back in seeking you.

After the small kiss, Kyle was everywhere with you. A little more subtle than Johnny the man was a bit more protective. Especially when you were amongst the other sergeants. There had been a time while SImon and Johnny were away and a group of Sergeants on base had decided to go out while on leave and you, being a particular favorite, were invited.

“Come on Heart! You're always with the task force! Join us for once!”

The sentiment was echoed by a few others who grabbed your arms in a friendly manner and tugged you toward the pair of vehicles. You did have some paperwork with Price due soon but at their insistence, you went along with it. They could see it on your face as the hesitence gives away with their jesting and there is a collective cheer and you allow yourself to be pulled by the rowdy men and women.

You slipped into the back middle seat of one of the black SUVs. As the main Sergeant, Smith, got into the driver's side there was a firm “Hold it!” from outside. There is a shadow in the tinted windows before the right side door opens and Kyle slips in next to you. Your left-side companion gives you a look with a raised eyebrow. Kyle sees this and replies.

“And let you guys have all the fun? Never.”

He grins and this seems to appease the others but he sends Smith a sharp look that everyone misses but you. You look at him in concern but his left hand moves to your knee and he gives you a secret smile but doesn't reply.

The place Smith selects is less bar and more club and you sigh as both SUVs pull into the tight lot and the groups depart with eager smiles and a few excited chatters. Kyle steps out before offering you a hand which you take. You send him a smile but you find his eyes clouded and a frown on his face. You are about to question him when Smith throws an arm around your shoulder and steps into your space. You about yelp before you turn to him in surprise.

“It's been a while eh Heart?” He asks with a cooky smile before his green eyes meet Kyle’s in a challenge. You cock your head before it clicks. There had been a mission months ago that required you and him to pass a couple for a few weeks. It was one of the few times where you went under without one of the 141. You nod to him in a friendly way.

“I guess so.”

Smith’s grin widens and as the others move towards the entrance he pulls you along.

Oooh I won't waste a minute when you're here

And we're finally in the clear

When every day is like the last

I just keeping holding fast

He stood at an easy 6’2” almost meeting eyes with Ghost. It was a fact he took well as during the mission there was a couples carry. An inherently stupid contest that you wanted nothing to do with but the target was competing so Smith had insisted. What you had not expected was the man to literally sweep you off your feet with a cocky ambition that made him preen.

His attraction to you wasn’t known to you until he swept you into a victory kiss as he passed the finish line. His lips against yours were soft but you played the kiss up for a show, mind set on the mission. Yet the heady look in his eyes went unnoticed by you. The pieces showed themselves though when you both returned. You both in dress clothes stepped out of the car laughing at different events of the mission, his hand splayed along your back in what you took as a friendly gesture. He had your gear slung over his shoulder as he insisted on carrying it. As you both enter base there are a few glances at your return and the hand on your back.

It is when you enter the common room that you realize it. There you find Kyle and your lieutenant, the former cooking something that made your stomach rumble and the latter leaning against the kitchen counter conversing with his Sergeant. There is little clamor as you enter but a few Sergeants playing a game pause it when Smith enters. His friends approach as you part from him to see your teammates. You smile at a few corperals who light up seeing you return and the noise draws the eyes of Kyle and Ghost. Two pairs of eyes close in as Kyle smiles and shuts off stove. He calls your name and you perk up, parting with a polite goodbye and entering the kitchen.

Kyle approaches you first, looking you over for any damage but you wave him off looking up at him with a pleased smile. The sight of you in your dress outfit makes his heart skip a beat but he only returns the smile.

“I’ve got dinner on the stove if-” Kyle is disrupted by Smith popping his head in to the kitchen, searching for you. He meets your eyes and calls your name before offering,

“Heart, a few of us were going to go catch a movie and dinner if you wanted to join,” his eyes flicker to Kyle and he adds a joking “sweetheart.”

He enters the kitchen fully holding your bag still in expectation as Kyle pulls his shoulder back. Green eyes flicker dismissively over him but its the hazel in the back that catch his. You can feel a tension in the air then when Ghost stands up from leaning. The mans eyes lock with Smith and the man stands taller under scrutiny, there are boot steps then as your Lieutenant approaches Smith and holds a hand out expectantly. Smith pauses and Simon wants to smirk under the mask as he can see Smith's eyes shift between you and Ghost. Something gives and Smith hands over your stuff before Ghost replies with.

“Sergeant Heart has debriefing tonight, at ease Sergeant.” With that he shoulder your bag and dismisses Smith. A look of defeat passes over Smith's eyes for a flash before he winks at you and mutters “Next time then.” Kyle coughs a laugh into his elbow before leading you into a delicious meal.

---

After that night with him and Johnny though you were keener with the others. And while Smith was attractive you felt nothing but a slight friendship with the man. While the feelings were all a tangle, Johnnys abrupt kiss had opened a door you dare not question, and since then your heart paced between four certain men. Kyle seemed on some wavelength to know and you had accepted his closeness with a cherished happiness.

As you were dragged forward you kicked on the breaks, pausing Smith in place. You then call back to your fellow 141 member. You look up to Smith with a soft but resolute smile before holding a hand out to Kyle. The man in question grinnes before walking forward to take your hand, a smug smile shot to Smith before he pulls you forward into the club.

Kyle’s arms circle your waist and pull you back into a firm chest, his head dipping to you shoulder.

“Smells good Love.”

You turn your head towards his and hum. He moves you both to the music in the kitchen something in his heart settled and soft. He turns and presses a kiss to your neck.

“There are tarts in the oven for the boys tomorrow.”

He doesnt reply, just taking in your warmth.

“Kyle?”

“I love you.” The admission makes your heart skip and you set the utensil down to run a hand up his arm. You tilt your head towards his, murmuring,

“I love you too,”

Before meeting him in sweetly shared kiss.

Because when I'm in a room with you that missing piece is found

You know when you're by my side darling nothing can bring us down

Its like when you're far away from me I get lost in the crowd

Because when I'm in a room with you that missing piece is found

End Track…

Taglist:

@ghostlythots, @00ops1e, @rafaelacallinybbay, @iloveslasher, @character---obsessed

, @ashy-kit, @fruitymoonbeams-blog, @my-amazing-nerdyness, @star-struck-universe, @br0ken-rec0rds

, @buckysjuicyplums, @cod-z

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w33zyw00zy0 · 1 year ago

Text

How Charming ~ Simon Riley x Fem Reader

Summary: She meets the 141 in a local pub for celebration after their last mission, but after her late arrival and most members drunk, she finds herself stuck with Ghost and his bratty attitude.

Warnings: Hardcore Smut, M Oral, Spit play, A little bit of degrading, Force, Semi-public, Rough yet Consensual Sex.

You looked up at the tatty, worn sign that swung with a creak at every breeze that filled the air- ‘The Woolpack Inn.’

The strong, sharp italic writing, worn and scratched with the ever-changing British weather. The brick was covered in a historic look, sad attempts of removing graffiti affecting the appearance.

Yet other than the nationalistic, out of place feel of the pub - it was definitely less dodgy than half of the other bars Soap had recommended in the past.

The pub door opened with a ‘DING!’, quickly alerting the staff that chatted to the locals of the small town. The strong scent of whiskey, beer and a mix of ‘masculine’ cologne created quite the welcome.

The grey-haired man that was tending the bar gave a small nod as a welcome before leaning back on the counter to continue his chat with the bearded, classic British men that took up his barstools, beers in hand, cheering at the ‘footie.’

It was a Friday evening and surprisingly busy as the sound of multiple, overlapping conversations lingered and soaked into the brick walls. The strong sound of cheering and screaming coming from the tv that hung shabbily from the corner, the Football match playing, like expected.

“You made it!” A strong accented voice spoke up, louder than everyone else.

Your eyes darted to the booth situated opposite the tv - obviously. The team crowded into the seating, shoulders touching. It caused a small, and extremely amused huff to leave your lips at the view.

Soap beckoned you over with a quick sway of his hand, patting the space that he had saved between himself and the infamous ‘Ghost’.

You walked over sitting myself where requested.

Groaning slightly, Ghost lifted his hips forward, sprawling himself and spreading as much as possible, his knees carelessly knocking into yours. His arms barged into yours, creating an awkward and uncomfortable tension.

“I’m glad you made it!” Soap spoke, every syllable looking like a struggle for the man, as a delayed strong whiff of alcohol hit your nose. But nonetheless you replied with a polite smile and a pat on the shoulder at his kind gesture.

You quickly turned your head as, the burly, Manchester-Accent of Ghost screamed directly down your ear due to the pixilated red card that appeared on the telly.

You scoffed at the inconsiderate action, a look of disgust and judgement splayed on your features.

A conversation quickly started. With most of the 141 on their 3rd beer and clearly a little tipsy, it wasn’t hard. Soap slightly slurred his words, mispronouncing vowels every now and then. Yelling to Gaz about something he was passionate about and Gaz yelling back due to the mix of bad hearing and football fans hollers.

Price had left the booth after giving you a quick pat on the shoulder to go smoke his cigar outside.

However, Ghost continued to ground his knee into the flesh of your thigh.

You shot him a snarl, watching as his eyes removed themselves from the tv screen, carelessly glancing down. He scoffed at your useless response, rolling his eyes and re-placing his attention back to the TV-Screen, taking a sip of his beer.

“Asshole” You spat, my words hidden by the loud cheering as the digitalised man approached the goal, ball dribbling effortlessly between his legs. But still removing a little chuckle from the man, himself at your childish reply.

You stood from your seat, shimmying yourself past Ghost, purposefully making it a struggle as you blocked the TV-Screen with a small smirk and a mouthed ‘sorry’.

“Fuck off newbie.” And a strong grasp on your hips was enough for you to oblige as he pushed you out the way.

You yawned slightly, approaching the bar and tapping the polished wood material with my finger as you waited for the attention of the Barista.

This wasn’t the night you had planned, everyone was either practically drunk already, disappearing into a world of their own imagination or tired from the past mission that you were supposed to be celebrating.

Guess not.

You watched as the Barista finally wiped a glass with his grey rag before threading it back through his belt and approaching your stool from behind the counter.

“Evening.” He spoke simply, his harsh Norfolk accent showing through his words, “What can I get for ya’?”

“Just a pint, please.”

You smiled gratefully as he nodded, turning to fill my request.

You sat on the tatty little bar stools that lined the wooden counters, the surface slightly sticky and filled with an old smell of ale. The cracked material that lined the barstools underneath you making a uncomfortable sensation on your thighs as you tried your best to wriggle into a comfortable position.

“Make that two.” A gravelled voice shouted over the noise of the crowd, assuming the stool beside you.

After a few minutes of silence, he glanced over his shoulder, catching your attention from the corner of your eye. His pupils scaled your body taking in every curve and crevice, before returning his eyes to yours.

His eyes physically widened at the sight of you staring back at him, causing his head to turn to the TV as a smirk pulled on the corners of your lips.

“What was that?” You chuckled slightly, finally making notice of Ghost who had decided to join you at the bar.

“What was what?” He blinked slowly, not taking his eyes off the match for a second.

“I just watched you undress me with you eyes.” You laughed once more , a small red blush becoming apparent under his mask as you questioned his behaviour.

“You wish rookie.”

You scoffed slightly at his reply, it was obvious. You had caught him.

“Two pints?” The barista slid them across, the smell of alcohol causing Ghost’s eyes to rip from the tv and admire the beverage in-front of him.

“You like footie?” His Manchester accent became more apparent as the beer tainted his voice even more than the 3 before that.

“Eh,” you shrugged your shoulders, quietly pleased at the sad attempt of a conversation. It wasn’t hard to tell he wasn’t the conversation type, “I don’t really get the point, what’s so fascinating about a ball being kicked by sweaty, rich men.”

A small chuckle came from beside you before the sound was muffled by Ghost lifting up the end of his mask and scrunching it past his nose; just enough to make out the blonde stubble that grew carelessly on his cheeks, his sharp jawline, and the end of his slightly crooked nose covered in the ever so faint freckles.

Your eyes lingered on his plump, peach coloured lips that slightly cracked at the edges as he took a sip on the liquid, licking the foam from around them.

“‘Course you’d say that.” He grumbled, another round of cheers following afterwards as the score raised to 2-1.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Confused pricked at your skin at the eerie reply.

“Well your a girl, aren’t you?” He responded easily, his words never faltering at the shocking reply.

“What.” You spat out, you had your fair share of misogyny from your experience in the army. It was expected. But this, for some reason, completely burned every piece of restraint you normally had.

“Girls don’t do football. Not proper football.”

Anger bubbled underneath your skin at that response. You swigged the beer, downing it, before slamming it back down onto the table and wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

“You know what. I’ve had enough of you.” You spat, watching as his eye lids raise as the response.

Attention caught.

His neck slowly craned around, a look of disbelief plastered on his face at the sudden snap.

“Never thought you of all people would be the misogynistic, hateful type,” You mumbled through your teeth, “guess mummy didn’t teach you right.”

You had taken it too far. You knew you had. But it had obviously hit a nerve as the look of surprise turned into a look of slow-rising anger. His eyebrows furrowing and his jaw clenching under the mask. So it worked.

“What? Did I press the wrong button?” You spat, slamming a ten-pound note on the counter before jumping off the stool, rushing out of the pub. However, you couldn’t help the smirk that was slowly taking over your face at the mix of anger and adrenaline. You hadn’t talked back to anyone since you had joined the army. The rebellion had lit a small fire in your belly.

You laughed a little, gasping as the adrenaline drew your lungs into an uneasy breathing pattern. The look he gave of pure rage and anger sent butterflies to re-arrange your guts as a warmth built between your thighs. Had you just yelled at Ghost? Simon Ghost Riley? Of all people.

The cold air pricked at your skin as you walked further away from the pub, silently gloating to yourself at the dominance, letting out small giggles.

Your legs carried an echoed sound to bounce off the dingy surroundings of the dark street the pub was built on. Your hair blew ever so slightly in the cold rush of air, causing hairs to stick up on both of your arms. A satisfied sigh leaving your mouth as you gleefully took in the sky.

DING!

The sound automatically changed your emotion.

You remembered it.

It created a uneasy sensation as the sound filled the silence that once assumed the night sky, echoing down the worn streets, reminding you over and over before filling your bumped flesh.

The rapid sound of heavy approaching footsteps following after the echoed ‘ding’ made you bite down on your tongue.

Shit.

Ghost.

“Keep walking.” He spat in your ear, a small tingle assuming your back and trailing your spine as his cold hand placed itself on your lower back, guiding you forward. You tripped and stumbled slightly at his doubled steps that you tried to keep up with.

Your eyes wandered up to his, his pupils kept straight ahead, dilated and lidded.

Fuck.

A small opening finally came into shot, a little alleyway crammed in between the silent streets. The opening was small and completely pitch black, however, surprisingly clean. Small windows hung open from the houses either side, their bins lining the opening from outside.

Ghost finally slowed from his determined stride, pushing you by the lower back into the opening.

“Ghost. What the fuck are yo-“ A hand quickly covered your mouth, the cloth material cutting off your breathing.

“Shut your bratty little mouth,” He spat, crouching slightly to become face to face with you. His hot breath mingled out of the mask and onto your flush face.

“I’ve had enough of your little attitude.” He scoffed, his eyes never leaving your.

“Whatever-“ you mumbled, rolling your eyes, shuffling under his gaze as you tried desperately to break eye contact.

A sharp slap met your left cheek as his hand grabbed your jaw harshly, forcing you into eye contact. His eyes now more narrow and deadly - if even possible.

“How ‘bout you shut the fuck up? Yeah?” He mumbled, a growl nearly replacing his normal tone. It lingered in his throat, small growls becoming more apparent the more he talked, “Can’t stand your voice..”

You nodded slowly at the tone of his voice, submission filling every limb, the stinging of your cheek creating a uncomfortable mix of pain and pleasure. The way he talked to you sending a pool straight in between your legs as he pronounced every word with exaggeration, speaking to you like a dumb little slut.

“You humiliated me,” He tutted slightly, his tone now lower and sounded with more tease, “In front of everyone.”

“I’m so-“ Another slap landed on your cheek, creating a whimper to bubble up from your throat and mewl out of your lips.

“How are you gonna re-pay me?” His tone dropped slightly, his eyes slightly clouding the anger with a another emotion. Lust.

His hands released themselves from my jaw, pushing me against the brick. The rough texture piercing into my back creating a groan to fall from your lips, the cold sensation filling my back.

“Hm?”

“I-I don’t know…”

“Not good enough,” He groaned through his teeth, keeping direct eye contact as your pupils scanned his face in search of the answer, “Where’s all that bratty attitude gone?” A small scoff emerging.

His eyes finally left yours, watching his hands as they scaled the sides of your body. The scratchy cloth of the gloves still attached to his skin pricking a new sensation. A gasp falling from your mouth as you followed his movements with lidded eyes.

His fingers reached your neck, each one taking your neck in a hold. His eyes looked back into your own, a small sense neediness plastered in every shine as he placed a little force into his grip, sending you to my knees in-front of him.

Your knees hit the cold floor, the hard concrete sending pain to shoot through your nerves as he grabbed my jaw positioning your eyes to glance up at his.

“I have an idea~”

A small hum fell from your lips at the sight of Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley looking down at you on your knees with such clouded neediness.

“I think you know what I want, brat…” You gave a small nod at the comment, your hands running up his thighs, towards the zipper.

The atmosphere was silent, peaceful almost other than the heavy breathing that came from the Masked Man as your fingers lingered on the zipper, pulling it down and undoing the button with a ‘pop’.

His dick was already hard, his boxers stained with pre-cum slightly at the control he had. It clearly poked through the thin material, the cloth making it look easily 6 inches.

You drew him from his boxers, the sudden cold air causing a hiss to fall from his lips. His tip was slick with juices, a few prominent veins covering the length.

You took two fingers, spreading the juices further down the tip. He flung his head back letting a strangled ‘Fuck’ linger in the air mixed with laboured breaths. His hands flew to steady himself against the brick wall as you moved your hand down to the base. His head now forward and hanging loosely.

“Stop fuckin’ teasin’,” His Manchester accent becoming more prominent with every pump, “Put it in ya mouth already.”

“Are you fucking serious ?” You scoffed out, his attitude making anger bubble and twirl with the pleasure building.

“Yeah, yeah.” His hands flung to the back of the head, eagerly pushing his cock past your lips and into your mouth.

A groan emerged as he stuffed himself down your throat. Your eyes watering at the forceful ram, your hands clenching onto his thighs to steady the sudden dizziness. A whimper followed quickly from his lips as you laid your tongue flat to fit the full length, slightly teasing the tip as your tongue brushed past.

His fingers tangled in your hair, grabbing a fist and pulling it tight as he guided your throat around him. Looking down on you with lidded eyes and a open, heaving mouth, he pushed roughly against your head, setting a pace that cause spit to gather in your mouth and mix with the liquids seeping from his tip.

You rolled my eyes at the eagerness and lack of care, earning a scoff, “S-so bratty, even with my… fuck- cock in your mouth.”

Ghost pulled his cock out fully from your mouth, watching as the mixed spit rolled down your own chin before slamming himself back into your throat, earning a loud gag that turned his drooling mouth into a smirk.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell…”

The muffled words falling from his mouth mixed with the constant slick sounds of wet skin from your puffy lips built an even bigger warmth in-between your legs. The stimulation became almost unbearable as he sped up, his mouth once again drooling and his eyes rolling back.

You rubbed your thighs together, desperate to keep the wetness that soaked through your panties under control. But it soon became too much, your thighs began to move, grinding yourself against the cold pavement, the sensation of the temperature against your covered clit sending you into overdrive.

My mouth began to babble incoherently around his cock at the mixed feelings of pleasure, the vibration of your lips sent him over the edge as he kept a strong grip on your hair, using your mouth as a toy. In and out. His cock going in slicked and coming out soaked in all sorts of lewd liquids.

You bunched your hands tighter around his trousers, steadying your limp head that was being quickly bobbed back and forth. The stimulation and neediness causing yourself to grind harder against the pavement, your moans and gasps sending Ghost into pure pleasure.

“Fuck… Fuck… Fuck.” He chanted it religiously, the warmth of his breath mixing with the cold air and coming out in puffs of steam as he sped up, the grip becoming tighter as he shot cum down your throat, babbling incoherent insults throughout his high.

He finally released himself from your mouth, hissing at the cold temperature.

A chuckle came from his mouth as you collapse against the brick wall, cum dripping from your mouth, a patch left on the pavement from your own pleasure.

“You can’t be cock drunk already,” He leaned down, swiping the cum off your chin with his finger before stuffing it in my throat, earning a gag.

“Swallow.” He spat, watching as your throat bobbed the white liquid disappearing down, your tongue slipping round and in between his digits until they were clean. Removing them with a ‘pop’.

“I’m not done with you.” He teased lifting your limp body off the floor by your neck, placing yourself against the brick wall, using the flat side of his hand to smush your face into the cold brick. Placing your legs around his waist, he pulled your soaked panties to the side, pushing himself into yours with a harmony of moans.

“I-I can’t- mmm~.. I can’t… I can’tIcan’t… ahh~” You mumbled, his head resting against my shoulder as he watched your body move up with every thrust. Non-stop whimpers falling from your lips at the overstimulation.

“Y-yes.. you can,” He rasped into your ear, pushing into you once more, raising your body up the wall.

“Nonononooo…” You mumbled out, your head becoming limp and falling into the crook of his neck as he continued to push your own figure up the wall by just his cock. His thrusts were slow but hard, his tip managing to slowly pull out, forcing pre-cum to dribble down my shaking inner thighs before slamming itself back into you. A squelch emitting and reverberating off the walls.

He forced himself in once more, your legs finally giving up and dropping from his waist. Your mind dizzy and your eyes permanently rolled back. He groaned slightly at the sight, before hoisting one of your legs back onto his hip, angling you just perfectly to hit that spot that made your stomach unravel and my moans become screams.

“S…sshhhh. quiet. Quietquiet.” He whimpered, his jaw biting down on your shoulder to keep out all the festering noise that threatened to spill. Your eyes pricked with tears, every thrust making your jaw drop, and caused drool to spill out.

The spit ran down your cheeks before dripping off your chin and pooling on your tits. Lewd noises fell out of your mouth, loud and uncontrollable.

His mouth quickly latched onto your tits, his tongue licking a long stripe across the pool of drool, nipping slightly. You threw your head back, the overstimulation of not only his cock but the amount of liquid that ran over your body, the absolute mess, it was fucking hot.

His pace picked up, his thrusts becoming sloppier yet still deep as his breathing quickened.

Your body finally gave up, the ever-building orgasm snapping and every limb becoming weak and paralysed as he continued his fast pace through it. Your mind was officially blank, your sight complete and utter darkness and your jaw slacked open permanently, incoherent noises and chocked out breaths falling from your puffy lips.

“shutupshutupshutup…” He mumbled out, two fingers flying into your mouth causing you to shut your lips around them. Your tongue swirled around the two digits, dragging your tongue along every inch and forcing it in between the two fingers.

Your third orgasm began building when the spit began building around his fingers, seeping from your lips and over his palm as he thrusted them into your mouth, keeping pace with his cock that was absolutely destroying your poor slit.

The whimpers and moans falling from himself were no longer unholy but a step further. His voice becoming drawn out and high pitched as he breathed heavily, overwhelmed by the two entirely different sensations.

But yet his fingers did nothing, it didn’t mute the lewd noises the slightest. It encouraged them, the vibrations of my confusing word play stimulating his cock more.

“F..fucking h…ell. Youdontshutup.” He gasped out, removing his fingers from your mouth with a pop. Trailing the slicked fingers down every curve before meeting your clit. Beginning small circling patterns around the puffy, cock-drunk sensitive spot. His pace involuntarily quick, as the cum from your past orgasm pooled out, causing his pace to quicken from the sloppiness.

His mask rose up his face from the pure force he was now putting into every movement, your body rocking hardly against the wall, your head still thrown back, slamming into the brick with every thrust.

His lips latched onto yours, his tongue wrapping around your own. The sound of your lips was easily masked by the wet slapping of his thrusts, but it was still audible.

After a few seconds, his mouth left yours, a long strand of spit connecting the puffy peach lips that had been devouring your own. Your eyes widened at the sight, his eyelids drooping ever so slightly as his eyes rolled back, attaching his lips back onto yours.

Everything became faster. The sounds. The moans. The pleasure. Everything.

“closecloseclose…” You gasped out, the word making his lips rip from your own. A thin layer of sweat taking over both your bodies at the pure pleasure. His fingers sped up. His thrusts sped up, his spare hand wrapping around your hips as you moved in sync.

“fuckfuckfuck… let them.. let them.. h-hear yo-you.” He gasped out as your walls clenched, causing an even tighter fuck toy, “w-want them toknowhow much… you l-Iove m…m-ah~ cock..”

A harmony of complete and utter smutty sounds left both of your mouths, mixing.

He chocked out a few silent whimpers before his thrusts slowed, his voice a lot more high-pitched and out of breath as he drew his cock out once more before thrusting it in.

He gasped once more before his tip releasing a stream of cum to fill the completely battered slit, his head flying back and his eyes rolling into his skull at the sensation.

That view alone caused your stomach to snap once more, your cum mixing with his as he rode through his own orgasm. The alleyway now finally quiet other than a few breaths.

He finally removed his cock, earning a hiss at the sudden emptiness and sudden pain of over-stimulation. Your body fell to the floor, every limb, limp and tired, your head falling forward as cum failed to keep itself in between your cunt and instead leaked out, coating your skin and the floor beneath you.

“Fuck.”

That was the first full word that had managed to fall from your vocal cords since entering the alleyway, and you weren’t completely mad about it either.

You raised the back of your hand, wiping the last drips that covered your lips and chin. Your breathing was heavy and almost uncontrollable as you tried your best to soothe the violent shaking in your thighs with the other hand.

A sudden sound of a ‘ZIP’ caused your head to turn and look at the tall figure who now had his pants pulled up, his zip done and his button secured.

He quickly pulled the mask down from his nose to his chin, giving you a quick glance in your position before crouching by your side.

“You tell anyone about this, your dead.” He spat through his teeth, your mind almost immediately missing the soft, whimpering side that was replaced by the more threatening side.

Your eyes dropped a little, sadness filling the corners. Ghost’s eyelids rose slightly at this, a smirk pulling at the sides of his lips as he scoffed.

“What? You really thought we were gonna be all lovey dovey?” He chuckled once more. But not one of pure happiness, but one of spite, “You tell anyone and I’ll tear your tongue out.”

He pulled his mask up slightly, pecking your cheek with a small kiss before checking himself once more and leaving.

Leaving you on the cold floor.

In a mess.

How charming.

#simon riley smut #smut #simon riley #ghost smut #ghost cod

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joelsfavouritegirl · 6 months ago

Note

please I'm begging, could you give us pre-outbreak (i guess most of your account is pre-outbreak) joel body and 🍆 HC's? hehe be as unrealistic as you want, we're talking about a pixilated man and maybe I'm projecting but i just KNOW this man's dick is big

AAAA YESS I LOVE THIS SO MUCHH, i agree with you 💯 but you'll see what i mean in a minuteeee. hope i wasn't too unrealistic😭😭 BUT IT'S JOEL MILLER SO WHY ARE WE EVEN HERE

anyways i hope this was close enough to what you were looking for, TYSM FOR THE REQUEST🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

pre-outbreak!joel body headcanons bcs this man was crafted by the gods himself<33 (18+)

. so fuckin broad like have you seen that man????? js imagine him working on something in his garage, shirt off because the summer is cruel (CRUUEL SUMMER WITH YOU) in texas, his back muscles and shoulders and arms flexing as his hands do the job

. also have you seen his arms. large and strong and so fucking big (just like his dick but we’ll get to that), you have to control yourself when you stare at him because his biceps look so fucking delicious when he wears those t-shirts

. also his hands, they make you wanna become a puddle whenever he rests one on your thigh or back (or ass or boobs or anywhere really). also the fact that he can play guitar makes him….. agile with his fingers (he can get you off in a few minutes)

. man’s got some hair on his chest i’ll give him that, pre-outbreak it was definitely dark brown, later on it probably greyed but still. i’d say that one of his favorite things is when you scrape your nails along his chest, your fingers combing through his prominent happy trail before you y’know

. pre-outbreak he probably didn’t have very prominent muscles on his chest and stomach (but have you seen his pecs in the prologue ohmylorddd), i’d even call pre-outbreak!joel just a little chubby. he’s a lot softer and milder before the outbreak than he is after but he’s still hot as fuck, i’d give anything to lie against him

. also this man is a walking talking radiator, he’s so fuckin hot (in both ways) that you have move to the other side of the bed during summer (which doesn’t last long bcs he’s crawling right back to you and smothering you with his tight grip as he dozes back off to sleep)

. ok now we can talk about his dick; it’s big. have you seen the way that man walks? yeah he walks like it’s big bcs it is. around 17cm (6.6 inches) when he’s hard and a little curved to the left and can we talk about girth bcs this man has it. the first time you fucked it took you a while to get used to him, you probably still do (but dw he'll just praise you and talk you through it and call you his good girl like he always does)

this man is hot and i’d love to suck him off for good morning and good night<33

#thelastofus #the last of us #joelmiller #joel miller #game joel miller #headcanons #smut #elenas asks

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parkswritessometimes · 5 days ago

Text

Healing Takes Time Chapter 1

Fandom: AVA/M

How long has he been staring at this stupid concrete wall? A day? A week? A year? Whatever it was felt like an eternity. Chosen can’t move. Can’t breathe. Not since the mountain came crashing down. Since Dark died. He’s just been laying on this bed staring at the wall holding a sweatshirt hoping, praying, needing Dark to come back through that door. His loud mouth and witty quips, a comeback for anything Chosen could say. But he’ll never be able to hear that voice again. Never be able to hug or touch or be with him again.

How can he move on? How can he be without his other half? Dark was the reason he had freedom, that he could live outside of a confining PC. No longer a slave but a person, something with life and a soul. He’s never had a night under the stars without Dark at his side and now he’ll have to see them every night without him.

Cursors above, he’s tired. Even though he’s been in this bed, for who knows how long, the fatigue is deep in his bones. He wants to die in this bed. He feels dead. So exhausted he can barley move or think. Only take in deep breaths of Dark’s favorite red sweatshirt.

A small, familiar creek of the front door, sends a small flicker of hope through his chest. He waits for Dark to call out, tell him he was home from whatever adventure had called to him. Tell him that this was all in his head, that this was a nightmare and that he would never lose him. That the virabots were nothing but a bad dream and he would never do anything so stupid.

“Chosen? Are you here? The door was unlocked so I let myself in.” No. Definitely not Dark. Too childish and high pitched. But the voice is familiar. “It’s Orange. Ya know? From Alan’s PC? I wanted to come check in on you. See how you were doing? I brought food! Hello?”

Oh that’s why. It’s the kid. Chosen pulls the covers over his head like a child hiding from their parents. Maybe if he ignored the kid, he’d go away. But the steps get louder and louder as he steps up the stairs, growing ever closer. The door creaks open the kid’s voice clear as day, the only thing protecting Chosen was the blankets over his head.

“Hey, is this you?” The kid asks, poking the duvet. “It is!!”

The sheets ripped off his body in an instant exposing him to the sunlight and coldness that was the outside world. He curls in farther into himself and the hoodie in his arms hoping that the kid is getting the hint.

“Are you alive?” He wishes he wasn’t. He wishes he was right there with Dark when the mountain fell. Orange pokes and prods his stomach causing him to squirm, his lips curling into a smile against his will. “You are! Come on! Get out of there!” Chosen groans as he pushes himself out of bed, knowing that the kid will never leave him alone if he doesn’t comply. He sits up and stretches his aching body before looking at the kid. An annoyingly cheerful smile on his face and his hair pulled back into a high ponytail with green highlights toward the end. His eyes are bright with happiness and optimism that Chosen never even got the chance to experience.

“You're up! Come on, I brought food!” He pulls on Chosen’s hands bringing him to his feet. It was nice. Warm. He can feel the kid's heart beat in between his fingers. Warm, steady and consistent. He’s alive. They’re both alive. He grips onto the kid’s hand as if it would disappear the moment he let it go. Call him selfish, you wouldn’t be the first, but he needs this. More than he realized.

“Woah, hey,” The kid says “Quite a grip there. I’m not going anywhere. You hungry? I brought sandwiches and watermelon lemonade, and some sweet berries!” He was hungry. He hasn’t eaten for a few days. Or showered. Or smoked. Or done anything. Just stared at the wall. And cried into that damn sweatshirt.

The kid leads him down the stairs showing him a big picnic basket set down on his kitchen counters. He begins to unpack everything with his free hand, setting the pixilated food down on plates. Pixelated and flat. Definitely not from this world. He looks back at the smiling kid as he continues to unpack what he brought and starts to snicker.

“What? What’s so funny?”

“Nothing it’s just, how did you even get this here?”

“I brought it from home!”

Of course he did. Kid grew up in isolation on Alan’s PC. He can't have any clue about laws or rules. But hey, everyone’s gotta learn sometime. Better to have him sneaking in food than terrorizing websites and killing innocent sticks.

“That’s illegal. Game smuggling. You could get time.” The kid’s face goes ghost white, stumbling over words in shock. Chosen can’t help but chuckle, grabbing a sandwich and some berries. “Guess being a troublemaker runs in the family.”

The tension in the kid's shoulders relaxes as a small laugh escapes his mouth. “Ye-Yeah. Guess it does.”

Chosen lets a small smile grace his lips as he bites into the sandwich the kid brought. It’s good for a sandwich and the berries are fresh so he can’t complain. And hey, free food. The kids' bright orange eyes keep bouncing around the room and examining Chosen’s body. His eyes finally lock on to Chosen’s and a look of sadness comes over him.

“Have you just been in that bed since…”

“Cursors, kid, manners. You break into my house and now you’re asking questions?” Dark used to say he used sarcasm as a shield, a way to deflect and protect himself. And he had a point, but feelings weren’t exactly his forté. Wasn’t Dark’s either but that’s what made them such good friends. They’d just sit in silence and enjoy each other's company. This kid was clearly a talkative one. Full of energy and light.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to,” The kid says, holding his hands up and waving them back and forth.“It’s just I wouldn’t blame you if you were. If one of my best friends did something like that then I had to fight them, I don’t think I’d ever get out of bed.”

“Don’t worry kid, your friends seem like good people. I don’t think you’ll have to deal with that.” “Yeah, my friends are the best.”

“Considering how they jumped in to save you with no hesitation, yeah, I’d say so. ”All those kids seemed so selfless and kind. Just jumping in front of the kid and himself. Regardless of their own safety, their own skill, they just threw themselves into the battle to protect a friend and a stranger. Dark would have never done anything like that. He never gave, only took.

Chosen takes a good look at the kid for the first time since they met. All the injuries from the fight have scared over, leaving fine white lines all over his body. His shirt looks burned at the edges as if he was recently playing with fire, and his hair and shoulders carry a fine red dust. Weird. If he took the tunnel that he created all of that should’ve been taken off by the strong winds.

“How did you even get here?” Chosen asks needing an answer to the stupid question.

“Now who’s asking the questions?” Chosen smiles and the kid’s sassiness, not all sugar, kid’s got a little bit of spice in him. They didn’t get much time to talk in between all the fighting, and death. There might have been a total of twenty words exchanged between them and most of them were “Thank you for saving me!”. This was the first time they actually had a conversation, and while the kid was very bubbly and full of energy, it was nice. “My friends have a portal that connects to the Nether. It wasn’t a hard walk.”

“Nether? What's The Nether?”

“Oh, uh, do you know what Minecraft is?”

“No, well kinda. It’s a video game right?” Chosen remembers the big booth with a huge cube dressed up like a chunk of grass, at the fair he and Dark snuck into a few years back. It wasn’t either one of their things but it was cool to just see. Definitely left an impression, but nothing more than that.

“Yeah! My friend has a portal connecting this world to the game and the game connects to another portal on Alan’s desktop so I just came through that.” “So what's the Nether?”

“Oh it’s a dimension in Minecraft. It’s full of lava and fire, but it’s easy to get through once you know what you’re doing.”

“Kid, you shouldn’t go through a fire dimension for me. If you’re gonna come, go through the portal I made.”

“But I don’t want to fall in the lake!”

“You won’t fall into the lake.”

“Yes I will, I can’t fly like you!”

Chosen freezes and looks at the kid as if he was insane. His eyes try to find any sense of humor or sarcasm in the kids expression but found none.

“Kid, question for you.” He asks ready to test the waters.

“Go ahead.”

“What do you remember about the fight?”

“Um, I remember standing in front of you and then my friends helping me and, the red guy-“

“Dark.”

“Dark, stabbing them then me, and then the world went black. Then I woke up with Alan and my friends above me. I think I died.”

Actually the opposite Chosen thinks to himself. He was a powerhouse. Wielding more strength and cosmic energy than Chosen could even dream of. Green sparks of lighting that exploded into the sky. Lime green energy that healed him. Speed that could break the sound barrier with ease. But it’s probably for the best that he can't remember all that.

He remembers his creation day. So full of power and fear. Destroying everything and anything in his way as he just tried to run from the overwhelming dread that overtook his body, until the cursor in the sky imprisoned him. Used him as his own personal Adblock. He wouldn’t wish that upon anyone, especially the kid.

“I’m really sorry that you had to hurt Dark.”

“Yeah, well, someone had to stop him. But thanks kid.”

“Ya know,” The kid says, putting down his sandwich “You can call me Orange. It is my name.” What? No. A hollow head without a kickass name? That’s not Alan at all. No, there has to be more. No way Alan came up with a basic name like Orange. He had to have something, anything, better than the name of a normal stick figure. Especially considering his powers, there is no way his file name is just ‘Orange_StickFigure’ Or something like that. Not with Alan.

“Well, I’m not calling you that.” Chosen says grabbing the watermelon lemonade “What did Alan name you?”

“He didn’t name me anything. I’m just Orange.”

“Well, for now, you’re ‘kid.’”

“Great.” The kid says, rolling his eyes with a smile.

“Hey, you should be honored. Not even Dark got a nickname like that.”

“Oh really?”

“Nope, he was always Dark. Back then, now, and forever, Dark.”

It’s true. No matter what, he will be Dark. Not The Dark Lord, or The Internet Terrorist. Dark. His friend. His Brother. His matching half. His freedom. His best friend.

“I’m really sorry you had to kill him. But, now you have me! And I’m not going to let you wallow away in that bed forever. Okay?” Chosen smiles at the kids' optimism. How can he not? That hollowness he had just felt, while still there no longer felt like it would swallow him whole. It was manageable, something he could fight now.

“Hey as long as you bring me food, we have a deal. Just knock next time?”

“Deal.”

The Kid is no Dark, not even close. He’s far too bright and bubbly, an optimism that would’ve made Dark sick and smile that never seemed to fade. Dark had a glint of mischief in his eye and a permanent smirk on his face. They were so, so, different but so similar in so many ways. Energetic and sassy, full of curiosity and vigor, ready to pull Chosen to the next thing. Willing to do anything just to make Chosen smile.

A sudden squeeze around his chest takes any breath he has away. He looks down to see the kid wrapping his arms around his torso, his head firmly in his chest with the top of his head under Chosen’s chin.

“I gotta go, but I’ll see you next week. Okay?” Chosen isn’t sure what to do in this situation. Dark wasn’t much of a hugger, and Chosen wasn’t much for physical contact. And while Dark loved to be in his space, he wasn’t one for physical affection. He just knew it bothered Chosen so he’d do everything in his power to be as physically close as he could just to bug him. But this was different. Very, very different. In a good way? Maybe? He honestly isn’t sure.

“Promise me you’ll take care of yourself while I’m away?” The kid looks back up with a bright smile and sparkling eyes, and Chosen’s heart can’t help but swell. How can he say no to that face? That would be like kicking a puppy. Chosen ruffles the kids hair as he releases the death grip he held on Chosen.

“I’ll try, kid. I promise.”

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[A03 link]

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I hope y'all like it. This is my first piece for the AVA fandom so I'm a bit nervous

I have most of the story planned out so I hope to update it at least once a month.

Oh and credit to @/starrypawu for the headcannon of Orange with lime green highlights in his hair headccannon which you can find here

#animation vs animator #ava the chosen one #ava second coming #ava orange #animation vs minecraft #avm #ava

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