About Me!!

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.

Family Dynamic HCS

-> Pairings: Dad!Chris, Dad!Matt, Uncle!Nick

-> Warnings: fluff!!

-> Summary: pretty obvious, but Chris and Matt as dads, and Nick as an uncle

-> A/N: I re-wrote my hcs into one big one, and I already love it more. Reblogs are appreciated!! borders are from @bernardsbendystraws

UNCLE!NICK

He has no kids but a dog or a cat.

He spoils his nieces and nephews to the point where Chris and Matt hate him.

He 100% taught swear words to the kids.

When he finds out one of their wives is pregnant he's happy but then realizes they fucked and gets disgusted as a joke.

His nieces copied his attitude.

He might say he doesn't like kids, but he's never talking about his nephews and nieces.

"Cousin Sleepover at Uncle Nicks" was invented by his fiancé because he loves his future nieces and nephews.

DAD!MATT

All girls, maybe one boy.

If his girls made bracelets, he'd clip them to his keychain or hang in on his rearview mirror in his car.

His tattoos are now coloring pages to them.

He cares for everyone when everyone's sick because he 'never gets sick', but when hrs sick, he's a big baby.

He learned how to braid hair solely for his daughters.

Cries every time one of his kids starts kindergarten, middle school, junior high, or high school.

"Daddy, play dress up!" 5 minutes later, he has his makeup done, nails painted, hair in little hair ties, and an Elsa dress on. There will be photos of that in everyone's camera roll, and he is NOT ashamed.

DAD!CHRIS

100% a 'boy dad' person.

He takes the boys skating when you visit his family in Boston for Christmas.

His kids are younger than Matt's by 3-4 years because of his mentioned fear of commitment.

He loves surprising his whole with big-ass gifts (like a dog).

hes more of a kid than his kids.

Dad jokes constantly, but they're funny.

At one point has let his boys play so rough that it resulted in a broken arm/wrist. Multiple. Times.

EXTRAS

Chris and Matt's kids mention to others that they are technically half-siblings due to Chris and Matt having identical DNA.

Chris's oldest boy's best friend is Nate's oldest son.

There might be cousin sleepovers at Nick's, but every Christmas in Boston, it's at Grandma Marylou's and Grandpa Jimmy's

A/N: reblogs are appreciated!

Tags: @hoeforchrizz @authoryand @bambi-slxt @nickssidewitch @flouvela @kinascum

♡Scarlet - Chris Sturniolo♡

𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚑𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚑𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚑𝟽𝟹𝟻 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜...

𝑺𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒆𝒕, 𝒂 𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝑺𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔

"𝓢𝓸 𝓼𝓬𝓪𝓻𝓵𝓮𝓽 𝓲𝓽 𝔀𝓪𝓼...𝓶𝓪𝓻𝓸𝓸𝓷"

Pairing: rapper!chris x popstar!reader Warnings: explicit content, manipulation, mature themes, toxic behavior, and intense emotional struggles. mentions of self-doubt, anxiety, and unhealthy relationship dynamics

"You know you've got me right?"

"I didn’t ask for this."

"Doesn’t matter. I’m still here."

𝑺𝑪𝑨𝑹𝑳𝑬𝑻 𝑴𝑨𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻

I'm gonna credit the following writers and their works on rapper chris and singer reader below

@chrissturnsfav

@chrissdollie

@liiixsturniolos

@55sturn

@chrattvibe

+ anyone else who has ever written something with this dynamic or something similar.

All parts of Scarlet will be located under the ♡◇scarlet◇♡ tag

Comment on this post to be added to the Scarlet taglist

Masterlist

Headcanons

AUs(coming soon)

SCARLET

Mood Boards(coming soon)

Camera Rolls (coming soon)

Dividers(coming soon)

Blurbs

Misc:

Get to know rapper!chris x singer!reader!!

♡Scarlet - Part 1♡

Warnings: use of Y/N Word count: 800

Y/N’s life looked perfect from the outside.

A platinum-selling popstar by 21, her face was plastered on billboards, magazines, and perfume ads. She had a smile people called america’s sweetheart and a wardrobe curated to match—every outfit was coordinated and perfected, delicate bows, nothing too bold, too controversial. She was the music industry’s golden girl, the dream they packaged and sold to the world.

But behind the staged interviews and perfectly scripted moments, she was exhausted.

"Sit up straight. Smile more. Don’t laugh too loudly." Her manager’s voice rang in her ears even when he wasn’t there. It had been like this since she was sixteen, when her first single blew up and the industry decided she was their next barbie doll.

She wasn’t allowed to post without approval. Her interviews were filtered. Her dating life? Nonexistent. Or rather it was all manufactured for PR—fake relationships, fake drama, all controlled to keep the fake fans invested but never too invested.

"Scandals ruin careers," they told her. "You’re not like those other artists. You have a brand to protect."

And she had listened. For years, she listened.

Even now, sitting in the back of a sleek black SUV on her way to a meeting, she could hear the same lecture coming.

"We have to talk about your image," her manager, Seth, started from the passenger seat. His clipboard sat on his lap, covered in notes she wasn’t allowed to see yet.

"Your last interview was good, but the fans are picking up on some… discrepancies."

Y/N sighed and adjusted the black satin bow in her hair. "Discrepancies?"

"Yes. You hesitated when they asked about your love life. You need to be more firm when denying rumors. The last thing we want is people thinking you’re sneaking around with someone."

She bit the inside of her cheek. "But I’m not sneaking around with anyone."

"Exactly," Seth said. "So let’s keep it that way."

Her grip tightened around her phone. It wasn’t just dating. It was everything. What she wore, what she posted, even how she spoke—all filtered through a team that saw her less as a person and more as a product.

She wanted to scream.

Instead, she smiled. Nodded. Pretended she didn’t feel the walls closing in.

Chris Sturniolo however, didn’t pretend for anyone.

If Y/N’s life was perfectly polished, Chris’s was the opposite—chaotic and unfiltered

A rapper who built his career from scratch, he was raw talent with a reckless mouth. The industry hated that they couldn’t control him, and he loved pissing them off.

He didn’t play by their rules.

He spoke without thinking, called out fake bullshit in interviews, and ignored every PR crisis his team begged him to address. The fans loved it. The brands? Not so much.

"Chris you gotta stop picking fights on X," his manager, Josh sighed as they walked into the studio.

"You’re already on thin ice with nike after that last stunt."

Chris scoffed, pushing open the door. "Bro they started it. I’m not gonna sit there and let some upper class business puppet talk shit about me."

Josh rubbed his temples. "You called him an upper class business puppet first."

"And?"

Chris didn’t care. He didn’t need sponsorships. He had music—real music. He wasn’t some label manufactured star who needed to be told what to say or how to act. He wrote his own lyrics, controlled his own sound, and if people had a problem with that, well they could go fuck themselves.

"You remember that popstar chick I told you about?" Josh cut in, changing the subject before Chris could go on another rant.

Chris raised a brow. "Which one?"

"The one your label wants you to collab with. Y/N Y/L/N."

Chris stopped walking.

Her?

The name wasn’t unfamiliar. He had seen her everywhere—perfect smile, perfect outfits, music that dominated the charts. She was the type of artist the industry loved to control.

Chris smirked. "They seriously think me and her make sense?"

Josh sighed. "It’s strategic. She’s pop’s prized posession, you’re the industry’s problem child. People eat up that contrast."

Chris chuckled, shaking his head. He knew how this game worked. Pairing them together wasn’t about making good music—it was about making headlines.

"Whatever," he said, pulling out his phone. "As long as the song’s fire, I don’t care." But deep down he was a little curious.

Chris was about to find out if there was anything real beneath that polish.

Get to know rapper!chris x singer!reader!!

SINGER!READER

Genre: pop, indie-pop

Similar artists: Madison Beer, Sabrina Carpenter, Billie Eillish

Albums and covers (coming soon)

Gained Fame: In 2021, Y/N started making music after her boyfriend cheated on her and their messy breakup, she put all of her feelings into songs and decided her new life started at that moment. She tested with sounds and one day she randomly posted them out of nowhere. Her confidence, however, skyrocketed when she only got maybe 1000 monthly listeners after about 3 months. She gave up and continued with life as if nothing happened.

In 2023, a beloved artist named Gracie Abrams, noticed her pathetic music and reached out. Y/N, much to her dismay, of course said yes when Gracie asked to do a collaboration with her. The song blew up on tik tok and other social media platforms and Y/N’s 6 songs soon started rising. Rooftops, a song about her ex, was #14 on the top 200 in the US. Gracie and her became good friends and Y/N got into song writing again.

Cute little headcanons:

Singer!y/n, who doesn't pay attention to rude or sexualising comments about her body but Chris does. When they're out in public and Chris hears someone say one thing about her, he’s practically on top of them and he’s not scared to beat the shit out of them.

Singer!y/n, who keeps a notebook full of random lyrics inspired by overheard conversations, half of which make absolutely no sense at all, but are oddly poetic

Singer!y/n, who insists on hand signing fan’s posters because it's more “personal” even if it takes hoursSinger!y/n, who will stop a concert mid way if she sees a sign or an outfit that she loves just to compliment that person.

Singer!y/n, who loves making up dumb tik tok dances to her songs just for funSinger!y/n, who’s fans are called the most ridiculous name. It started as a joke but now it's a part of her brand.

Singer!y/n, who takes a polaroid picture with her team before every show

Singer!y/n, who gets nervous before award shows, so Chris shows her his “pre game hype” which consists of terrible dancing and a not so helpful pep talk in a mirror

RAPPER!CHRIS (CHRI$)

Genre: hip hop, rap (obviously)

Similar artists: Playboi Carti, The Kid LaROI, Lil Skies

Albums and covers (coming soon)

Gained fame: Chris started his career more recently at the beginning of 2024. Because of the youtube channel, Chris didn't need to be famous for his music. About mid 2024, his music started to get recognized by more than just Sturniolo Triplets fans. Playboi Carti actually liked Chris’s music for what it was.

On Carti’s tik tok, he posted a video with one of Chris’s songs as the sound. Don't know how this made Chri$ more popular but his listens blew up hours later. 11 million monthly listeners quickly went to 30 in less than a month.

Cute little headcanons:

Chri$, who always kept his word, and has never done drugs, drank alcohol, or smoked a vape or cigarette in his life.

Chri$, who’s concerts are the most wild and fun thing ever. The energy in the sold out stadiums is exhilarating and the fans in the front row will probably not be able to hear anything else for days.

Chri$, who makes sure that you are always comfortable and happy no matter what you’re doing.

Chri$, who has your stuff scattered everywhere. He’s got hair ties on his wrist, your hairbrush in his car, and your clothes are all over the place.

Chri$, who once hung a pair of your panties on the rear view mirror in his car because the color “complimented” the vibe

Chri$, who never lets you pay for anything. This man will do everything and anything to make sure your card never sees daylight. Sometimes he steals your wallet before you even leave the car.

Fics to look forward to: (I obviously have not been busy)

Sleepytime - Chris asks Y/N to sing him to sleep one night

Model - Y/N’s manager needs to meet with her about upcoming tour outfits but Chris is not having it with her leaving

Noise Complaints - Late night studio sessions in Y/N’s apartment lead to awkward run ins with the neighbors

Pink Sweater Season - Chris borrows Y/N’s favorite oversized pink sweatshirt for a music video and the internet has questions.

Off Key Apologies - After a heated argument, Chris writes a very pathetic song as an apology but Y/N doesn't want to hear it

Mute - A mic on a live stream reveals way too much about how Chris feels about Y/N

Paper House - The power went out and the house is quiet so Chris and Y/N decide to build houses out of cards.

Stage Left - A surprise performance during Chris’ tour has the crowd cheering—and Y/N wondering where she stands with Chris

Signs - Chris finds an old playlist you made for him and realizes the feelings were there all along—he just missed the signs.

Second Verse - Chris struggles to finish a song about…love and how he hates to admit how much the second verse sounds like you.

REQUESTS!!

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

blehblehbleh735's

Scarlet - Chris Sturniolo