Family Dynamic HCS

blehblehbleh735's

Scarlet - Chris Sturniolo

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

♡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.

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

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.

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