GUYS

Rapper!Chris x Singer!reader Headcanons (sfw 1)

I'm guilty of being a slut for rapper!chris so i needed to make one myself. I want this to be a whole series so there will be a lot more🫶🫶

Rapper!Chris...who sneaks backstage at your concerts with VIP passes disguised as a fan and surprises you with a bouquet of your favorite flowers after the show just so he can see the surprised look on your face.

Rapper!Chris...who makes it his mission to feature you in one of his songs. He plays the demo on repeat all day everyday until you agree to collaborate.

Rapper!Chris...who writes lyrics that he claims "aren't about anyone," but everyone can tell they're filled with references to you from small mentions of your favorite color to a lyric from one of your own songs.

Rapper!Chris...who sends you voice memos at 2 in the morning when he’s inspired. They are filled with rough drafts of lyrics about you that are sweet, funny, and occasionally ridiculous. Occasionally theres a lot of dirty ones.

Rapper!Chris...who casually promotes your songs by “accidentally” mentioning them on live streams calling them fire and insisting his fans check the songs out immediately.

Rapper!Chris...who gets defensive if anyone criticizes you or your music, ready to go on a rant about how they don’t understand real talent.

Rapper!Chris...who casually wears your tour merch to his own shows, sparking rumors about your relationship among fans because he can’t help but support you even in (not so small) ways.

Rapper!Chris...who always reserves a VIP seat at his concerts just for you and when he spots you in the crowd, he throws a wink or a quick shoutout in his lyrics, making the audience scream.

Rapper!Chris...who memorizes all your songs, even the unreleased ones and hums them in the studio, inspiring everyone to think he has new material when he's really just admiring your work.

mood board and extras coming soon!

Inspiration came from mainly 2 accounts and others who have done this before: @chrissturnsfav, and @chrissdollie

Prove It - Chris Sturniolo

Summary: Chris doesn't think Y/N can handle him Warnings: sexual content, smut, p in v, backshots, unprotected sex (please just no), rough!dom!chris, making out Word count: 1.3k

Chris leans back against the headboard, arms crossed over his chest, a cocky smirk tugging at his lips.

“You really think you can handle me, babygirl?” His voice is low, dripping with challenge, eyes dark as they rake over you.

Your heart pounds, but you refuse to back down. “I don’t think. I know.”

You crawl closer, hands settling on his thighs, feeling the muscles tense beneath your touch. “You’re the one who doesn’t know what to do with me.”

Chris lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Oh yeah? That’s cute.” He reaches up, fingers threading into your hair, tugging just enough to tilt your head back, forcing you to meet his gaze. His pupils are blown, his lips slightly parted. “So prove it.”

Your breath hitches, but you don’t hesitate. You shift closer, your fingers tracing along his jawline before sliding into his hair, tugging just enough to make him suck in a sharp breath.

Chris tilts his head into your touch, his smirk faltering for a split second before returning with even more intensity.

“You always talk big, ma. But I don’t think you know what you’re getting yourself into.” His voice is a murmur now, his grip on your hair tightening just enough to send a shiver down your spine.

You tilt your head, a smirk of your own forming. “That sounds like fear, Chris.” His brows raise, amusement flickering across his face. “Fear?”

He scoffs, pulling you even closer. “Nah, babygirl. I just don’t think you realize what happens when you play this game with me.”

“Then stop talking and show me.”

Chris watches you for a long second, his expression unreadable, before his smirk fades into something darker, something more serious. His fingers tighten in your hair, his free hand sliding down to grip your waist.

“Alright, ma,” he mutters, voice rough. “Just remember—you asked for this.”

His grip on your waist shifts, fingers pressing firmly as he guides you down onto the mattress beneath him. You let out a shaky breath, your hands gripping the sheets as he hovers over you, eyes dark with intent. The air between you crackles with tension, his gaze locked onto yours, watching every tiny movement, every breath you take.

He likes seeing you flustered, loves knowing that no matter how confident you pretend to be, you still react to him.

“You sure you’re ready for this?” he teases, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. “You’re already looking a little nervous, babygirl.”

You swallow hard but refuse to back down. “You talk too much, Chris.”

His smirk returns, full of amusement, but there’s something else there too—something deeper, something hungry.

“Yeah? Then do something about it.”

You don’t give him the satisfaction of hesitating. Instead, you tug at the hem of his shirt, slipping it up over his head and tossing it aside before running your cold hands over his bare skin. His breath stutters slightly, and you catch the way his muscles twitch under your fingertips. He’s always in control, always the one teasing, but now he’s watching you like he doesn’t know what you’ll do next.

“What’s wrong, baby?” you tease, leaning in, your lips ghosting over his jaw. “Still think I can’t handle you?”

Chris exhales sharply, his hands gripping your hips. “You’re playing a dangerous game, ma.” His voice is rougher now, lower, his control slipping just a little.

“Good,” you whisper, lips brushing against his skin.

“Then stop holding back.”

Chris curses under his breath, his restraint snapping as he flips you onto your stomach, pinning you beneath him. He stares down at you, eyes burning with something intense, something all-consuming.

“Alright,” he breathes, leaning down so his lips are barely an inch from your ear. “Let’s see if you can handle me, baby.”

“Get on your knees for me.”

Your breath stutters at the command, a slow shiver rolling down your spine. You shift onto your hands and knees, the mattress dipping beneath you as you move. Chris hums in approval, his hands ghosting over the small of your back before trailing lower, squeezing just enough to make you arch into his touch.

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs, his voice rough, filled with something possessive. He takes his time, his fingers teasing at the hem of your shirt before slowly dragging it up over your body. The fabric pools around your shoulders before he tugs it off entirely, leaving you in nothing but the heat of his gaze.

Chris presses a kiss to your spine, slow and deliberate, his hands exploring every inch of newly exposed skin. He loves this, loves taking his time despite how desperate he is. His lips trail upward, following the curve of your back as his fingers work at the clasp of your bra, letting it slip away just as easily.

He groans softly, hands sliding up your sides, thumbs brushing over your ribs. “You won’t be able to handle this, ma.” His breath is warm against your skin, his voice thick.

You turn your head slightly, catching his dark gaze over your shoulder. “You really underestimate me.”

Chris doesn’t hesitate this time. His hands move lower, hooking into the waistband of your shorts, dragging them down inch by inch, making sure you feel every moment of it. He wants to savor this, wants you just as desperate as he is.

His own patience snaps as he rids himself of his clothes in a frenzy, the fabric tossed carelessly aside. He presses himself against you, the heat of his body overwhelming, his breath coming quicker. He grips your hips, his lips pressing against your shoulder before trailing up to the sensitive spot just below your ear.

“You look so good like this,” he murmurs, voice low and wrecked. “All mine.”

His hands roam over you, mapping every inch of your skin, his touch burning, claiming. Every movement, every whisper against your skin, pulls you deeper into him, into the intensity of the moment. He tilts your chin to the side, pressing his lips to yours in a heated kiss, fingers digging into your hips like he can’t bear to let go.

“You wanted to prove yourself, babygirl?” he rasps, dragging his lips over your jaw. “Then take me like a good girl and be completely silent.”

Chris takes his time sliding his boxers down, his movements slow, deliberate, as if he’s making sure you watch every second of it. He inches forward, slowly pushing himself in. Your forehead falls back against the pillows in front you, eyes fluttering shut. 

He begins moving his hips back and forth slow at first, until he sucks in a breath, his grip harsh as he begins slamming into you at a vigorous pace. Your eyes roll back, your jaw dropping at the incredible feeling. The headboard starts rocking into the wall, leaving loud bangs that Chris has no doubt his brothers hear. 

"Fucking take it." He groans between his teeth. Chris lifts his palm before landing a sharp smack on your ass, almost causing you to whimper. You bite your lip, trying your best to hold back your moans as his tip repeatedly hits your insides.

Chris picks up the pace again, pounding into you faster, silently hoping everyone would hear the sound of his skin slapping against your ass.

"Bet they can hear us, ma," he whispers, voice dripping with satisfaction. His grip on your hips tightens as he pulls you back to meet each thrust, the intensity making your fingers clench the sheets beneath you. The sound of his skin slapping against yours echoes through the room, shameless and unrelenting.

"Let 'em know who you belong to."You start to feel your orgasm build up, the knot in your stomach slowly tightening. Your walls tighten around Chris's dick as he moves in and out of your pussy, your moans getting harder and harder to hold back.You won't let him win.

"You still think you can take more?"

Chris growls, his grip on your hips tightening as he thrusts even deeper, testing your resolve.

"Because I'm not done with you yet."

Author's note: so ummm what do we think? I've never written smut before so this is probably ass but please let me know what you think and if I should write more

NHL!Chris x figure!skater!reader headcanons (sfw)

1. Admiring Your Talent

Chris is always in shock of your grace and your talent on the ice. He’s the type to show up at your practices (if you let him) or watch your performances from the sidelines when hes not supposed to. He will whisper “that was amazing” under his breath every time you land a difficult jump or a perfect spin. He’s incredibly supportive, and always gives you encouragement when you’re struggling with a routine.

2. Duo

While you're at practice, Chris loves to watch you. Afterwards you two enjoy cozy moments together, drinking hot chocolate or coffee in a nearby café although he doesnt drink coffee so he always has a pepsi. He’ll joke about how you skate on the ice better than he skates in the rink, but it’s clear he loves seeing you in your element. You both have this perfect dynamic where you get to teach him a few moves and he teaches you about the intensity of the hockey world.

3. Skating Together

Though Chris is a professional hockey player, he’s not quite as graceful as you on the ice. When you suggest skating together for fun, he’s all in. He may not have your technique, but he’s willing to hold your hand and try new things with you. He's better at going fast while you're better at being graceful. His balance is great, thanks to hockey, but he often ends up making you laugh when he falls in a attempt to do a jump or a spin.

4. Backstage Celebrations

After a successful competition, Chris is always the first one there to celebrate with you, even if he’s had a tough game. He’s proud of you...almost like a proud coach. He'll lift you off your feet in a big hug when you win or just be there to comfort you if it doesn't go as planned, reassuring you that every performance is a step closer to your goals.

5. Encouragement When You're Down

There are moments when the pressures of figure skating (injuries, difficult performances, self-doubt) can get to you, but Chris knows just what to say. He’ll remind you of your strength, often comparing you to one of his fellow hockey players who “fight through the pain.” He’ll say something like, “You’re as tough as anyone in my locker room, you can push through this.”

6. The Ultimate Date

For a perfect day, you and Chris will go to a local rink where he’ll take part in a (not so)friendly pick-up game of hockey with his friends, while you work on your figure skating routine. Then you’ll both go to a diner for a late-night dinner and laugh about how you both almost collided on the ice. It’s a mix of the worlds you both love, and he loves it because it gives him the chance to see you do your thing.

Blehblehbleh735's

𝑺𝒍𝒆𝒆𝒑𝒚𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 (𝒓𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒓!𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝒙 𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓!𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓)

Personality

Back to...

coffee | m.s.

Summary: A series of different situations where exbf!Matt and reader meet to catch up.

Warnings: mentions of sexual acts, alcohol use, angst

Word Count: 661 words

My Master List

Join my tag list : @matthewsroses @lvrsturniolo @sturnzblog @nickgurl4life @emely9274 @sturniolozbae @ksturnz

Divider by: @anitalenia

A/N: Hello friends! I took quite the hiatus from writing. I've had lots of ideas flowing but no motivation to actually write them :( but I am going to try and push some out for the holidays. I hope this idea/concept makes sense. Please tell me if it doesn't and I can add an explanation!!

<3 Billie

"if I didn't love you, it would be fine"

Can't meet you for dinner at the Italian place...

The table held the awkward space between you as you recalled the last time you were both at this restaurant. You stared off at the booth in the corner. It felt like yesterday that you and Matt sat across from his parents, meeting them for the first time.

"How's your mom doing?" you asked, breaking the silence.

"She's good. She asks about you all the time. She misses you," Matt responded looking in your eyes. You felt a pang in your chest.

"I miss her too," you said with a slight frown. The relationship you had with MaryLou while you were dating Matt was so good. She was like a second mom to you. You pitied the many women who hated their mother in-laws because you absolutely adored her.

"Why don't you come home and say hi for a bit?" Matt offered.

a few hours later

Your legs were tangled up with Matt's as you rested your head on his bare chest. Both of you were breathless and trying to figure out how meeting up to 'talk' ended up with you in his bedroom at his parents' house.

I'd suggest the jazz bar on MaryAnn Street...

The soft saxophone music played in the background as you and Matt sat at a small table in the corner. "I want to apologize for how things ended between us," Matt sighed. You fiddled with your purse strap as you listened to him talk. "It wasn't fair to you to not think about how my career was going to impact you and us."

"I feel like you chose your career over me," you spoke softly.

Matt's face softened. "I know. I have my priorities straight now. Can I buy you a drink?"

One drink lead to another. Somehow Matt's face ended up between your thighs as you gripped onto your bedsheets. You missed him and definitely missed this.

If we have wine...

Matt's lips were flavored with merlot. Even though you preferred a riesling, you couldn't get enough. Your lips chased his as he backed you up against the bed. You weren't sure where your clothes had gone but you didn't really care. "I want you," he whispered. Matt left open mouthed kisses along your jaw as his hand slipped down your torso. You moaned softly. The night started casually. Matt stopped by to have a chat and catch up over a glass of wine. A few hours later, there were two empty wine bottles on the table.

You said let's do the park 'cause I love the park...

The park swing held your body in a hug as you caught up with Matt. It felt like it had been ages since you saw each other, but really, just a few months. It started off a bit awkward, but you warmed up slowly. Then, the rain began. It poured on you both as you laughed running to his car for shelter. Inside the car, the two of you talked for hours until darkness crept in. It didn't take long for your heated kisses to make the windows to steam up as Clairo played through the speakers.

I'll meet you for coffee...

The warmth of the mug increased the perspiration in your nervous hands as you sat across from your ex. "How are you?" he asked.

You nodded, "I'm doing good actually. How are you?"

He gave you a genuine smile, happy to know that you have been doing well. Matt felt a lot of guilt around your breakup and was hoping that you were doing okay. You both chatted about his career and your schooling. The world felt at peace and almost back to normal. Both of you relieved to have the friendship back.

But the feelings in your heart crept out of hiding each time Matt laughed or recalled a memory between the two of you.

So let's not do coffee, let's not even try.

About Me!!

☾✰Luna✰☽

Brunnette, green eyes, Italian and American and i only write about the sturniolo triplets

Music: Dominic Fike, Taylor Swift, Sabrina Carpenter, Arctic Monkeys, Tyler The Creator, The Neighborhood, TV Girl, Clairo

Youtubers: Sturniolo Triplets, Kallmekris, Tara Yummy, Sam and Colby, Jake and Johnnie, etc

Shows: Stranger Things, Bluey, Bridgerton, WandaVision

Movies: 10 Things I Hate About You, Scream, Clueless

Likes: Light blue, Dr Pepper, pasta, stars

Dislikes: Slow walkers, Baby Shark, idiot drivers, etc

Sleepytime

Rapper!chris x singer!reader Content: tooth rotting fluff, thats basically it Status: established relationship

credit: @liiixsturniolos for inspiration

Note: this is my first time writing in 2nd person so hope you like it🩵

Chris had been restless all day. You could tell from the way he kept bouncing his knee at dinner, his fingers tapping out a beat on the table while you tried to tell him about your studio session earlier. He wasn’t being rude—not intentionally. You knew his mind was elsewhere. It usually was when he got stuck in his creative process.

Now it was well past midnight, and you were curled up on the couch in his apartment, your legs draped over his lap as a late-night sitcom hummed quietly in the background. Chris’s arm rested loosely on your shin, his fingers drawing patterns on your skin while he stared off into the distance.

“You’re still thinking about that verse, aren’t you?” you asked softly, breaking the quiet.Chris blinked, his gaze snapping back to you. “Huh?”

“The one you couldn’t finish earlier. You’re stuck.”

He sighed, leaning his head back against the couch. “Yeah. It’s like... I can hear what I want it to sound like, but I can’t figure out the words. It’s just frustrating, ya know?”

You nodded. You’d been there before—those days when the music felt just out of reach,it was like trying to grab water with your hands.

“You’re overthinking it,” you said gently. “You always do it when you’re tired.”

Chris groaned, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Probably. But y'know I can’t turn my brain off. It’s like every time I close my eyes, the beat’s just there, looping over and over again.”

You shifted, sitting up a little straighter. “Maybe you just need to relax,” you suggested. “Do something to take your mind off it.”

“Will you sing to me?” he asked, his tone bordering on desperate. You hesitated and raised an eyebrow, your lips twitching into a small smirk.

“Sure,” you said with a laugh. Chris stretched out on the couch, his head resting on the armrest, and you pulled a blanket over him. His legs were long enough that they hung off the other end, and you couldn’t help but smile at how he looked—a little less like the confident tough rapper the world saw and more like the teddy bear boy you knew.

It had to be something soft, something calming, something... meaningful.

You started humming first, letting the melody settle in the quiet space between you. Then, softly, you began to sing one of your favorite songs—a gentle one that had always felt like home to you. Your voice was low and steady, the lyrics flowing like a gentle stream.

Chris’s eyes fluttered closed almost immediately, his breathing slowing as he listened. The hand rested on his chest that was tapping ruthyms, suddenly stopped.

“Damn,” he murmured after a minute, his voice barely audible. “You sound good, ma.”

You smiled, pausing for a moment to reply. “It’s not like you haven’t heard me sing before.”

“Not like this,” he said, his voice muffled against the skin of your thighs. “It’s...different.”

Your fingers brushed through his hair, the soft curls springing back into place after each pass. As the song ended, you switched to another.

“Don’t stop,” he whispered, his voice heavy with sleep.

“I wasn’t planning to,” you said quietly, the words like a promise.

You kept singing, your voice wrapping around the room like a warm blanket. And as you did, you noticed the way Chris’s body sank deeper into the couch, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.

Eventually, his breathing evened out completely, and you realized he’d fallen asleep.

For a moment, you just watched him. He looked so peaceful, his features softened in a way you didn’t get to see often. The weight of his public persona—the cool, confident rapper everyone adored—was gone, leaving behind just Chris.

You leaned down, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Goodnight,” you whispered.

There was something about moments like this—quiet, simple, and unglamorous—that made everything else in life feel a little easier.

Maybe tomorrow, Chris would wake up with the words he’d been looking for. But tonight, you’d given him what he really needed.

Rest.

Dividers by me, please tag if you use as inspiration🩵

Run For The Hills - Chris Sturniolo (Chris’ Version)

Pairing : Situationship!Chris x Fem!reader

Summary : You always keep running back to your situationship with Chris for a hookup, instead of running for the hills.

Warnings: MDNI, fuccccck boy chris!!! smut, all consensual! p in v, fingering, unprotected sex (don't be silly), unrequieted love, slight angst, toxic situationship, this is a bit degrading dont let men treat you like this!!!!

Chris's POV of Run For The Hills & Run For The Hills Cont.

I heard the soft click of heels outside the door before she even knocked. My phone buzzed on the nightstand, a text from another girl lighting up the screen. I swiped it away without replying. Not because it meant anything, but because I didn’t need distractions tonight.

The knock hadn’t even come when I opened the door, leaning casually against the frame. There she was, black mini dress, heels, the whole nine yards. She always dressed like she was trying to knock me off my feet, like she was hoping tonight would the night that changed everything.

Spoiler. It wouldn’t be.

“Right on time” I said, smirking as I stepped aside to let her in.

She walked past me, her heels clicking against the floor, and I couldn’t help but let my eyes trail after her. She always had this air of confidence, like she was in control. But the way she clutched her bag a little tighter, the way her shoulders tensed ever so slightly, it gave her away. She wanted this to mean something.

“You’ve got good taste in hotels” she said, her tone casual, but there was something behind it, like she was testing the waters.

I grinned, letting the door shut behind me. “I’ve got good taste in company too.”

The way her cheeks flushed was subtle, but I caught it. I always caught it. She rolled her eyes, playing it off, but I knew her well enough by now to see through the act.

I shrugged off my jacket, tossing it onto the armchair as I moved closer to her. She was trying to keep her cool, standing there all composed, but I could see the way her breath hitched slightly as I brushed my fingers against her arm.

“You okay?” I asked, keeping my voice low.

She nodded quickly, her lips parting as if she was going to say more but stopping herself. “Yeah” she finally said, but her voice gave her away.

I tilted my head, studying her for a moment. She always looked at me like that, like she wanted more.

I pushed the thought aside. This thing between us had its rules. Unspoken ones, sure, but rules nonetheless. No heavy feelings, no strings attached. Just.. this.

“Good” I said, sliding my hand to her waist and pulling her closer. “Then stop overthinking and come here.”

I kissed her, and like always, she melted into me. She made it too easy, really. But I wasn’t complaining. Her hands gripped my shirt, pulling me closer like she was afraid I’d slip away. Maybe she didn’t realize that, for me, this was just a temporary escape.

And she wasn’t the only one who could give me that.

My fingers rested on her waist, right above the hem of her dress, feeling the fabric shift beneath my grip.

“You look amazing tonight” I murmured, keeping my voice rough, deliberate. Her eyes met mine, her lips parting slightly as if she wasn’t sure how to respond.

She swallowed hard, trying to brush it off. “You say that every time.”

I smirked, tightening my grip on her waist just enough to make her feel it. “Because it’s true. And because I know it gets to you.”

Her lips twitched, caught between a smile and an annoyed retort. I loved that about her, the way she tried to play it cool, even when I knew I was under her skin.

Leaning in, I let my lips graze her ear “You don’t need to try so hard to impress me, you know.” My breath was warm against her neck, and I felt her body tense slightly, a silent giveaway. “You’re already under my skin.”

Her breath faltered, just for a moment, but she covered it up with a smirk, lifting her chin like she wasn’t affected. “Maybe I like seeing how far I can get under yours.”

I couldn’t help but be smug, the sound vibrating in the space between us. Her confidence was intoxicating, even if I knew half of it was a front. Nuzzling into the curve of her neck, I let my lips trail down to the sensitive spot just below her ear. Her sharp inhale was like a reward.

“Careful” I warned, my voice a quiet growl against her skin. “You might get more than you bargained for.”

She tilted her head ever so slightly, giving me better access. My lips moved slowly along her neck, deliberate and teasing, feeling her heartbeat quicken under my touch.

“Maybe that’s exactly what I want” she whispered, her voice soft but steady.

I pulled back just enough to meet her eyes, and for a moment, the usual cocky grin faded. The way she looked at me, like she wanted more, like she needed more, made something twist in my chest. I shoved it down, keeping my expression unreadable.

“Careful” I repeated, my tone carrying more weight this time. “You keep talking like that, and I’m not going to be able to take it slow.”

Her lips curved into a daring smile as she stepped closer, pressing her body fully against mine. The heat between us was electric, and the challenge in her eyes was impossible to ignore.

“Then don’t” she said simply.

That was all I needed. My lips crashed into hers, and the world around us disappeared. Everything about her consumed me, the way her hands gripped my shirt, the soft sigh she let out as my fingers tightened on her waist.

I guided her backward, my hands never leaving her, until her legs hit the edge of the bed. She fell back, and I followed, pinning her beneath me. My lips moved from hers to her collarbone, leaving a trail of kisses that grew bolder with each one. Her fingers tangled in my hair, pulling me closer, her body arching against mine.

“God, you drive me crazy” I muttered against her skin, my voice rough with frustration and desire. Just wanting to get to the one thing I wanted most.

Her soft laugh was like a challenge. “Good” she whispered, her fingers tugging just enough to make me groan. “Because you’ve been driving me crazy for months.”

I didn’t respond, not with words, at least. My lips found hers again, and I poured everything into the kiss, letting the tension and heat drown out anything else. She could believe this meant something more if she wanted. But for me, it was just another night. Another game I couldn’t resist playing.

I grabbed the hem of her dress and dragged it up her body, not wanting to waste anymore time. She pulled the rest over her head and threw it on the floor behind her.

I was greeted with a red lace thong. The only thing covering her body. No bra to be found. Fuck.

 “I’m so obsessed with your tits.” I mumble as my head dives back into her neck, pushing her tits together with one hand so I could immediately make my way down to suck them.  My tongue taking turns swirling around each of her nipples.

My breathing became heavier, trying to relax and enjoy every moment without thinking of how Y/n feels for me. My free hand slid up her thigh, teasingly close to where I wanted my dick to be. I wanted to take my time to make her wet as possible, and I also enjoyed watching her squirm.

“You know” I murmured, “I think you like letting me drive you crazy.”

She arched into me, from the loss of pleasure around her nipples, a quiet gasp escaping her lips as my fingers grazed higher up her thigh, grazing over her sensitive area. “Maybe” She said, trying to sound as composed as possible despite the way her body was reacting under me. “But I think you like it even more.”

He laughed softly, “You’ve got me there.”

Of course I liked it, that's the only reason I’m here.

Before she could start talking again, my fingers pushed her thong to the side, two of them entering her pussy straight away. 

“Fucccck Chris!” she yells out. I smirked, leaning back to watch her completely lose herself for me. It only turned me on more.

“So wet for me already hmm?” I said, towering over her.

She whined softly underneath me, so I began to pick up the pace with his fingers. The noise of her wetness as my fingers pounded into her filled the room. I needed my dick in her now.

“I can’t wait any longer Chris! N-need you to fuck me now!” She cried out as she arched her back further.

“How bad do you want me to fuck you Y/n?” I teased, wanting my ego pleasured first, before my dick.

“So badly! Please Chris.” 

I leaned back down to capture her lips in another kiss, this one deeper, slower. “I missed fucking you, you know that?” I whispered in her ear, as I removed my fingers from her.

I stood up straight to undo his belt. “I don’t have a condom with me by the way.” Not that I ever took one with me.

She pulled her legs together, her heels balancing on the edge of the bed. Fuck she’s so sexy. “It’s fine, I'll get a Plan B tomorrow if I need to.” she says quickly, like she’s dying for me to touch her again.

I took my jeans off before reaching for her legs and separating them. “Y’know, you don’t have to be so quiet.” I say as I line my dick up to her entrance, thrusting into her straight away.

A loud gasp leaves her throat, the quick contact catching her off guard. “Oh my goddddd”

“I told you I wasn’t going to be able to take it slow.” I whine, pulling one of her legs over my shoulder, allowing me to hit it deeper. I started with a few slow and steady strokes, letting her adjust to me, but after hearing her groan underneath me, it became evident that I could become a bit rougher. She tensed around me with each thrust, her hands gripping the sheets either side of her.

“Faster Chris!” she demanded, locking eye contact with me.

“Keep saying my name.” I urged, my eyes never leaving hers. “Keep saying my name and i’ll fuck you faster.”

“Chris please!” Her moans growing louder, her saying my name only making me hornier.

I flip her over, her face now buried into the white hotel sheets. I grab a fist full of her hair, while I palm her ass with the other one.

“Oh my god, right there! T-thats so so good!” she whines.

“Look at me, gorgeous.” I grunt, as I tug at her hair slightly, needing to see how she’s losing herself over me. 

She looks back at me while I drill into her from behind, her eyes never shifting from mine, black mascara now lining her under eyes.  

I lean into her. “This pussy is mine.” I whisper in her ear. “Tell me it’s mine.” Knowing fine well, nothing of me will ever be hers.

“It’s yours Chris! All y-yours! Please don’t stop!” She cries out. I stand up straight again, slapping her ass so hard, my hand print starts to appear on her ass cheek.

I let go of her hair, pushing my hand on her back, making her arch further, fuck she look’s good in this angle.

“You’re too fucking sexy.” I moan, my thrusts picking up speed, making her ass jiggle faster. The sound of my skin hitting off hers growing louder and louder. “I’m- I’m gonna cum Y/n. Keep your back arched like that.” 

“Please keep going Chris. I'm so close!” she yells, the sound of her voice muffled by the mattress. 

I gave her a few more harsh sloppy thrusts, before stalling my hips, spilling into her.

I knew I had a job to finish though, so my fingers found their way to her clit, swiping over her sensitive bud in a fast motion. I could feel her beginning to clench around me tighter, pushing her arched back further into me.

“I’m cuming Chris I’m-” her words cutting off as she came undone around my cock. 

I lay down onto the bed, staring at the ceiling, my arm thrown over my eyes. The room was quiet, but her presence next to me was loud in a way I couldn’t ignore.

This was the part I hated most, the silence. Because it made her think. And when she thought, she started hoping.

I shifted, glancing at her out of the corner of my eye. She was staring at the ceiling too, wrapped in the sheet like it could protect her from whatever was swirling around in her head. “You okay?” I asked, my voice casual.

She nodded, but I could tell it wasn’t the whole truth.

I leaned over, pressing a kiss to her temple. Not because I meant it, but because it was what she needed to hear. “You sure?”

“Yeah” she whispered, her voice softer this time.

I sat up, grabbing my phone off the nightstand. A few unread messages stared back at me, the first one from Hailey, asking if I was free tomorrow night. I swiped it away, glancing back at her.

“You have somewhere to be?” she asked, her tone neutral, but I could hear the edge in it.

I smirked, leaning back against the headboard. “Nah, not tonight.” I studied her for a moment, watching the way her fingers toyed with the edge of the sheet. “What about you? Any big plans?”

She shook her head, biting her lip like she was trying to decide if she should say more. “Just this.”

Her words lingered in the air, heavier than I wanted them to be. I leaned over, kissing her again, slower this time. She kissed me back like she was trying to prove something, and for a moment, I let her.

But as I pulled her close, letting her relax against me, my phone buzzed again on the nightstand. Another message, another option.

Because that’s all this was, an option.

I held her, letting her believe it was more, because it was easier that way. For her. For me. 

To her, this was a connection. To me? It was a habit. A convenience. A thrill.

But I knew the truth. This wasn’t going anywhere. It never was. Another 5:30 call and I’d have her right back here again.

a/n: i NEEDED a chris pov to this

taglist: @mattybearnard @sturn-33 @ncm9696 @yourfavsturniologirl @crazy4jewel @sodakid1234 @stupendoustreewinner @lovealwayssturniolos @matthewsturniolosss @m4ttsmunch @loveexxx @ilusa @starkeyszn @wonnieeluvvr @dylnblue @valxrieq @maggot3647 @cigarettecemetary @ribread03 @chrisstvrns @bandasaruswrx @noplaceissafeanymore @amexiass @witchofthehour @mattssgf @jetaimevous @v33angel @ivysturnss @urmom69lol @ashlishes @watercolorskyy @sturnioloshottiekay @amelia-sturniolo3 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @pvssychicken @alizestvrnss @chrisstxrnsaxe @sophand4n4 @vickytaa @marrykisskilled @bxtchboy69 @yourfavsturniologirl @julisturn @sydneyylainn @sophia-77n

Sash Sabotage (Miss Universe!Reader x Chris Sturniolo)

Word count: 1.5k Content: Suggestive (a little), fluff Status: "just friends" IDEA IS MY OWN

The air backstage was a mix of expensive perfume, hairspray, and high-stakes nerves. You were seconds away from stepping onto the stage for the next segment of the Miss Universe competition, wearing a breathtaking, crystal-studded gown that had been perfectly fitted. Every detail had been perfected—except for one very, very annoying problem. Your sash had decided to betray you.

"Chris!" You hissed, gripping the oversized white and gold sash that read Italy in elegant lettering. It was supposed to lay flawlessly across your body, but instead, one of the ends had come loose from the discreet pin securing it to your dress, leaving it to dangle awkwardly against your hip.

"It’s falling off! I can’t go out there like this!"

Chris, who had absolutely no business being in the backstage area but had somehow charmed his way in (or more likely, snuck past security) was standing there looking like the only guy in a sea of hairspray and sequins.

"Alright, lemme see," he said, stepping in way too close, fingers already reaching for the delicate fabric.

"Fix it," you whispered, panic rising in your throat. "Like, now."

Chrisnever the problem solver (and by problem solver, you meant troublemaker), nodded with all the confidence of a man who had absolutely no idea what he was doing.

"Easy. I got this."

And that’s when everything went to hell.

Instead of properly adjusting the pin, Chris accidentally tugged on the sash too hard, sending the entire thing slipping further down your body. You gasped, feeling the fabric pull at the delicate fastenings of your dress.

"Oh shit—hold on," Chris muttered, catching the sash before it could fall completely. His fingers scrambled against the fabric, and in his attempt to fix it, his knuckles brushed right against the side of your thigh, then a little higher, and then...

"Chris!" you yelped, gripping his wrist. "What are you even?!"

"I'm trying to pin this damn thing! Stay still!"

But before you could get him to stop, you both heard the unmistakable sound of someone clearing their throat.

Your biggest competition in the pageant, Celeste, stood a few feet away, arms crossed, a slow smirk stretching across her face.

"Well, well, well," she said, her voice dripping with fake politeness. "What exactly are you two doing back here?"

Your eyes widened in horror.Chris was still standing way too close, one hand gripping your sash and the other suspiciously low on your hip. From an outside perspective—and definitely from Celeste's point of view, it looked like he was either getting handsy or trying to undress you backstage.

"This isn’t..." You started, but Celeste cut you off with a knowing laugh.

"Oh, don’t mind me. You two can continue... whatever this is," she said, waving a manicured hand at you. "Just know that the cameras are everywhere."

Chris, instead of stepping back like a normal person, only made it worse.

"Ayo that sounds kinda accusatory. We got a problem, Miss Runner-Up?"Celeste's eyes flared at the dig, and you smacked Chris on the chest.

"Shut up," you hissed. "You’re making it worse."

Celeste hummed, tapping her chin in mock thought. "I don’t know… maybe the judges would find it interesting that one of the contestants is getting a little too friendly with an audience member before walking on stage."

Chris straightened up finally backing away, but the damage was done. The smirk on Celeste's face told you everything...she wanted this rumor to spread.

You groaned, yanking Chris by the wrist and dragging him toward a less crowded corner of the backstage area.

"Fix it. Now. Before I lose my mind."Chris let out a low whistle, giving you his signature lopsided grin. "Damn, didn’t know getting caught in a scandal was part of the pageant experience. Kinda fun, though."

You smacked his arm. "Shut up and fix my sash before I strangle you with it."

Finally, after a few more disastrous attempts (which included stabbing himself with the pin, almost ripping the sash completely, and more accidental hand placements that would definitely be misinterpreted), Chris managed to get it secured.

You let out a breath of relief, stepping back to admire his handiwork. "Alright, not bad," you admitted. "Now, let’s just pray nobody makes this a thing."

Chris leaned against the wall, watching as you got ready to step onto the stage. "Oh nah this is definitely gonna be a thing."

He gestured toward the nearby crew members, who were very obviously whispering and sneaking glances at you two.

You closed your eyes, mentally preparing yourself for the onslaught of online speculation that would undoubtedly follow. "I hate you."Chris just smirked. "Uh huh. Now go win that crown, princess."

You shot him a glare before stepping onto the stage, already bracing yourself for the chaos that awaited once the internet got a hold of this.As soon as you stepped onto the stage, the flashing lights and roaring applause should have drowned out every thought in your head.

You were trained for this—poised, graceful, every step deliberate. But all you could think about was Chris’s voice in your ear minutes ago, that stupid smirk on his face, and the way Celeste had looked at you like she had just won the competition without even stepping on stage.

You kept your smile intact, but your mind raced. Is this really going to be a thing?

The answer came quicker than you expected.

The second the segment ended, and you returned backstage, one of the other contestants, Sofi, practically pounced on you.

"Oh my God," she whisper-yelled, grabbing your arm. "What is going on with you and that guy?"

Your stomach dropped. "What?"

"You and Chris Sturniolo," she clarified, eyes wide with amusement. "People are talking. Someone caught a video of you two backstage, and it looks really—" She waved her hands, searching for the word. "Intimate."

Your jaw clenched. "It wasn't intimate."

Sofia wiggled her brows. "Tell that to the internet."

Your phone buzzed in your dressing room like it had personally committed a crime. Every notification—Twitter, Instagram, TikTok—was already blowing up with mentions, tagged posts, and blurry backstage footage.

ohhhh THIS is why Chris Sturniolo is at Miss Universe?? 👀

lmao they thought they were being sneaky??? babe the cameras are literally everywhere.

nah but the way he’s all up in her space like be honest…they been a thing???

You groaned, dropping your phone onto the vanity with a loud thud. Chris had officially turned your Miss Universe experience into a full-blown tabloid scandal.

And the worst part? You had a live press conference in less than an hour.

The press room was packed—journalists from every major entertainment outlet ready to dissect every moment of the competition so far. But you could already tell they weren’t just here for the usual pageant talk. The first question, from some gossip columnist in a bright pink blazer, confirmed your worst fear.

"So, Miss Italy," she started, her voice dripping with faux innocence. "Can you tell us a little bit about the… moment you shared backstage with Chris Sturniolo earlier tonight?"

The mic in your hand suddenly felt twenty pounds heavier. You forced a polite smile. "Oh, that? It was nothing. Just a wardrobe mishap, and he happened to be helping me fix it."

Another reporter cut in before you could breathe. "A very hands-on fix, no?"

The whole room chuckled, and you wanted to disintegrate.

"It was all taken out of context," you said carefully, keeping your tone light, casual. "Chris is a friend. That’s all."

As if summoned by your very words, your phone buzzed in your lap with a text from the menace himself.

Chris: damn, ‘a friend’? just a friend?

Chris: ur breakin my heart ma

You clenched your jaw, resisting the urge to scream.

The press conference finally moved on, and you made it through without further disaster, but the damage had been done. By the time you left the venue, the internet was already on fire.

And of course Chris was waiting for you outside.

Leaning against the car like he had zero responsibility for the media frenzy he just caused.

"You have no idea how much I wanna kill you right now," you greeted, shoving past him toward the passenger seat.

Chris chuckled, following you in. "C’mon, it’s kinda funny."

"You mean career-ruining?"

"Nah," he shrugged. "This is just free promo. People are obsessed with you now. I did you a favor.

"You turned to glare at him, but the smug, self-satisfied grin on his face made it impossible to take him seriously. "I hate you," you muttered for the second time that night.

Chris just leaned back, throwing an arm over the seat, his voice dripping with amusement.

"Love...hate...same thing."

And unfortunately, judging by the way your heart betrayed you in that moment—you weren’t entirely sure he was wrong.

Touch Starved

Summary: Chris has been away for weeks and when he finally returns, he can't keep his hands to himself. Warnings: suggestive material, use of y/n Word count: 700

It had been two weeks since Chris had left for tour, and the separation was starting to take its toll. The messages, the calls, the video chats—they were all sweet, but nothing compared to being in the same room as him, feeling his presence, his warmth, his touch. The absence of him was starting to gnaw at you.

When Chris finally came back home, you knew it wouldn't be long before he was at your door, his scent and warmth filling the room, replacing the emptiness he'd left behind.

The moment you opened the door, he was on you, arms pulling you into his chest with a sense of urgency that sent your heart racing.

His lips pressed against yours in a kiss so desperate, so full of need that it made you dizzy.

He stepped back, his eyes searching your face, but his hands didn’t leave your body, tracing the familiar curves like he was reacquainting himself with something he had been starved for. His voice was thick with longing when he spoke, "I need you," he rasped. "I need you right now."

You swallowed hard, caught in the intensity of his gaze. "I thought you’d be tired," you whispered, though your body betrayed you, leaning into him, craving the connection as much as he did.

Chris shook his head, a soft growl escaping his lips. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. Not once.” His hands roamed down to your waist, his thumbs brushing the skin exposed by your shirt, leaving shivers in their wake. "I need to feel you."

The urgency in his voice and the way his hands tightened on you made it impossible to resist. You could feel his need, raw and undeniable. His lips found your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin, his hands pulling you closer until there was no space left between you.

You let out a breath, trying to catch your bearings, but the moment he kissed you again, all coherent thoughts left your mind. Your body responded instinctively, pressing into him, hands running through his hair, pulling him closer.

"Missed you so much," he muttered between kisses, his voice was strained, as if saying the words was the only way to hold himself together.

You didn’t need words. You could feel the ache in his touch, the desperation in the way his hands gripped you. The space between you had been too wide for too long, and now he was closing it, pouring all his pent up frustration, longing, and love into every movement.

He pushed you gently against the wall, lips still capturing yours with intensity. His hands slid under your shirt, skimming over your skin, as if reacquainting himself with every inch of you.

"Let me love you Y/N," he whispered, voice trembling with need. "Let me remind you how much you mean to me."

With a soft sigh, you nodded, already moving to pull him closer, hands desprately undoing the buttons of his shirt. The moment was dizzying—like the world had fallen away, leaving just the two of you, craving the touch you had both been deprived of.

As the minutes passed, the urgency only grew. Clothes were discarded, and soon there was nothing but the heat of his body against yours, his hands everywhere, caressing, kneading, claiming.

Each touch was like a promise, each kiss a reminder of everything you had both missed.

Chris’s lips found your ear, his voice low and rough. "I'm going to make up for every second I’ve been gone," he murmured, as his hands guided you toward the bed. "I'm going to show you just how much I need you."

But now that he was back, he wasn’t going to let anything stop him.

guys im sorry I would go further but I am terrified to write smut because it would be so bad. I guess if anyone has tips you should share them🤠