#chris materlist⭑.ᐟ
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Summary: you surprised Chris with food while he is streaming
Warnings: none fluff, nicknames: baby, babe
Chris was laser-focused on his game, brow furrowed in concentration as he muttered to his viewers in the Twitch chat. He was in the middle of a particularly intense match, fingers flying across the keyboard, headset clamped firmly over his ears. He was live on Twitch, and the chat was blowing up with excited comments.
"Come on, come on, almost got him..." he murmured, eyes glued to the screen.
Suddenly, a knock echoed on his door. He flinched, startled. "What the—? Hold on, chat, someone's at the door."
He muted his mic briefly, frowning. He wasn't expecting anyone. Probably just a mis-delivery. He hoped. He glanced at the stream overlay; the viewer count was climbing.
Opening the door, he found you standing there, a wide grin on your face, balancing a large McDonald's bag and a couple of drink carriers. His frown melted instantly.
"Hey, babe," you said, beaming. "Thought you might need some fuel. Streaming for a while now?"
Chris grinned, relief flooding him. He was starving, but hadn't wanted to interrupt his stream to order anything. "Baby, you're a lifesaver," he breathed, pulling you into a quick hug and a kiss. "I was just thinking about how hungry I was getting."
"Perfect timing then," you chuckled, stepping inside. "I got your usual – Big Mac, fries, and a McFlurry. And I grabbed some nuggets too, just in case."
"You're the best, sweetheart," Chris said, his eyes already on the golden arches logo. He grabbed a fry, inhaling the salty aroma. "The chat's gonna flip when they see you. They were just roasting me for not bringing you w’me."
You laughed, shaking your head. "They worry about you," you said, heading to the kitchen to grab plates and napkins. "Now, come on, love. Let's eat before it gets cold, and then you can get back to your game."
Chris followed you, already munching happily. "Alright, chat," he said, unmuting his mic. "Looks like McDonald's is on the menu tonight, courtesy of my amazing girlfriend. Don't get jealous." He winked at the camera, then turned his attention to you, a soft smile on his face. He knew his brothers, would tease him relentlessly about this later, but it was worth it.
taglist: @chrislilcumslvt @chrepsi
#chris sturniolo#chris sturiolo fanfic#chris sturniolo angst#chris sturniolo x you#chris fanfic#chris sturniolo imagine#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo fluff#christopher sturniolo#chris materlist⭑.ᐟ
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CRY
summary: Chris fought with his brothers and confined in you for comfort
summary: fluffffff, angst, use of y/n, crying
A/n: I'm having writer's block kinda short



The weight of Chris's head on my shoulder was familiar, comforting in its heaviness. His short, dark hair tickled my neck as he sniffled, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest against my back a lullaby in the quiet of my room.
"It wasn't my fault," he mumbled into my shirt, his voice thick with unshed tears. "I didn't mean to..."
I tightened my arms around him, burying my face in his hair. The scent of his shampoo, a mix of citrus and something musky, filled my senses, grounding me in the present moment. "I know, Chris. It's okay."
He pulled back slightly, his blue eyes, mirroring the stormy sky outside, wide with unshed tears. "But they won't listen. They think I'm... I'm a monster."
My heart ached for him. With his infectious laugh and kind heart, Chris was anything but a monster. He was just a boy, overwhelmed by emotions he didn't know how to handle.
"They don't understand," I said, my voice soft and soothing. "They're just scared."
He shook his head, a single tear tracing a path down his cheek. "They should be. I... I hurt them."
"It was an accident," I reminded him, stroking his hair. "You didn't mean to."
He looked at me, his gaze searching. "You believe me?"
I met his gaze, my dark curls falling around my face. "Of course I do. I know you, Chris. You're not a monster."
A small smile touched his lips, and he leaned back against me, his breathing slowly returning to normal. "Thanks, Y/N. I don't know what I'd do without you."
"You don't have to," I whispered, holding him close. "I'm here for you, always."
@drewstarkeyzwhore my only mutal
#chris sturniolo#chris sturiolo fanfic#chris sturniolo fluff#chris sturniolo angst#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo fanfic#chris fanfic#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo x you#chris materlist⭑.ᐟ
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Since Bsf!Chris got his license, now hes teaching you how to drive now
The worn leather of the steering wheel felt slick beneath Chris's grip, a stark contrast to the nervous flutter in his stomach. He glanced over at his friend, her eyes wide and focused on the road ahead, her hands gripping the imaginary wheel on her lap.
"Okay," he said, his voice a little higher than usual, "You're doing great. Just remember to check your mirrors every few seconds."
She rolled her eyes playfully. "I know, Chris. You've told me like a million times."
Chris grinned. "Just making sure. You know, since I'm the official driving instructor now."
"Yeah, yeah," she mumbled, but a smile tugged at the corners of her lips. She was proud of him. He'd only gotten his license a few weeks ago, after years of putting it off, and now here he was, patiently guiding her through her own driving journey.
They'd been friends since childhood, their bond forged in shared laughter and whispered secrets under starry skies. Somewhere along the way, that friendship had blossomed into something more comfortable and warm, like a favorite sweater.
"So," Chris continued, breaking the comfortable silence, "When we get to the intersection, remember to signal, even though no one's around. Practice makes perfect kid."
She chuckled, playfully shoving his arm. "Stop calling me kid! I'm practically 21 now asshole."
"Practically," Chris teased, his eyes twinkling. He loved how easily they fell into their familiar banter. It was a comforting rhythm, a reminder of their shared history.
They reached the intersection, and she carefully executed the turn, checking her mirrors and signaling like a pro.
"See? You're a natural," Chris praised, genuinely impressed. "At this rate, you'll be driving me around in no time."
"Ha! As if," she retorted, but her cheeks flushed slightly.
They lingered in the car for a moment, the comfortable silence settling between them. It wasn't just about driving lessons. It was about spending time together, about building their future, one mile at a time.
"So," she said, finally breaking the silence, "Same time next week?"
Chris grinned. "Wouldn't miss it."
tags.@t0tally0bsessed
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⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ Arianna ˖ welcome to my page! I write for rafe cameron, chris sturniolo and spencer reid~ ₊ ݁ ˖
˚₊‧꒰ა taglist°. *!
REQUEST! — open
˚₊‧꒰ა About me °. * 18. Lana del Rey .tvdu. Pll. girl uninterrupted. ballet. pink. cherry red. guinea pig. perfume. bunnies. fuzzy socks. mini-skirts. low-rise jeans. victoria secret. pilates. diet coke. cherries. lace tops. curly hair. black-Italian. baby tees. coach. Dior. lip liner. lip gloss. true religion. juicy culture. pink.
˚₊‧꒰ა remember u can request anything or if u want advice or to talk °. *
dividers by @bernardsbendystraw
enjoy!!



#spencer masterlist⭑.ᐟ#Rafe masterlist⭑.ᐟ#chris materlist⭑.ᐟ#drew masterlist⭑.ᐟ#✩°。𓏲⋆.𖦹 bambi!reader#──★ ˙🍓 ̟ strawberry!reader#°❀.ೃ࿔*bimbo!reader
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summary: dealer!chris suprised you at your 21st birthday
Warnings: fluff, you being sad thinking he wasn't coming, illusions to sex at the end but not completly ,smoking weed, drinking, nicknames: ma, baby
WC: 2.4k
21. it was supposed to be my night, I was staring at the sad remains of my birthday cake. Chris wasn't here I called to see if he was still coming i never got a call back no text just nothing.
I met Chris a few months ago at a party. We were complicated, and he was complicated. He always gave me pink rolling paper. I didn't even need to ask him; he knew what I liked, and he knew me.
He was a dealer, yes, but he was also the guy who remembered my favorite candy and always had a lighter when mine was lost in the depths of my purse. He was a walking contradiction, and tonight, he was a no-show.
Layla tried to distract me, putting on my favorite playlist and attempting to start a dance party in my tiny living room. But the music felt hollow, the laughter forced. I kept glancing at my phone, willing it to light up with a message from Chris. Nothing.
By midnight, the last of my friends had trickled out, leaving me and Layla alone amidst the wreckage of my birthday. “I’m going to head out,” Layla said, giving me a sympathetic hug. “Call me if you need anything, okay?”
I nodded, forcing a smile. “Thanks, Layla. You’re the best.”
As soon as the door clicked shut, the tears I’d been holding back finally spilled over. I sank onto the couch, pulling a throw blanket around me, feeling utterly and completely alone. Twenty-one was supposed to be a celebration, a milestone. Instead, it felt like a giant, flashing neon sign proclaiming my loneliness.
I scrolled through my contacts, hovering over Chris’s name. Should I call again? Tell him how disappointed I was? I hesitated, then decided against it. What was the point? He clearly didn’t care.
Just as I was about to turn off my phone, a loud knock echoed through the apartment. I froze, my heart pounding. It had to be him.
I rushed to the door, peering through the peephole. Chris stood in the hallway, a sheepish grin on his face. He was holding a large, ornate wooden box.
I threw open the door, my anger and relief battling for dominance. “You’re late,” I said, my voice trembling.
“I know, I know,” he said, stepping into the apartment. “I’m sorry, ma. Had a… delivery to make.”
He placed the box on the coffee table, the wood gleaming under the dim light. “Happy birthday baby,” he said, his eyes locking with mine.
I stared at the box, my curiosity piqued. “What is it?”
He winked. “Open it and see.”
I hesitated, then slowly lifted the lid. Inside, nestled on a bed of velvet, was a collection of intricately crafted glass pipes, each one unique and beautiful. Beside them lay a small jar filled with shimmering, golden cannabis. And tucked into the corner, a stack of pink rolling papers.
My breath caught in my throat "for me?" you questioned your voice small. It was extravagant, thoughtful, and undeniably Chris.
“It’s a limited edition,” he explained, his eyes sparkling. “The best of the best. Thought you deserved something special and shit for your 21s m'sorry I wasn't here earlier.”
He pulled a lighter from his pocket and lit one of the pipes, the sweet scent of cannabis filling the air. He offered it to me, his eyes locking with mine.
I took a hit, the smoke swirling around me. The tension that had been building all night began to dissipate, replaced by a sense of calm.
We spent the next few hours talking, laughing, stealing kisses which quickly turned into sex and smoking. He told me about his “delivery,” a complicated story involving a high-profile client and a last-minute change of plans. I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t help but smile. He was ridiculous, but he was also… here.
As the first rays of dawn peeked through the curtains, we found ourselves curled up on the couch, his arm draped around my shoulders. He was asleep, his breathing soft and even.
I watched him, a soft smile playing on my lips. He was still a dealer, still unreliable, still… Chris. But tonight, he’d surprised me. He’d shown me that he cared, in his own chaotic, unpredictable way.
I leaned down and kissed his cheek, a silent thank you. He stirred slightly, his eyes fluttering open.
“Happy birthday, ma,” he murmured, his voice husky with sleep.
“Thank you, Chris,” I whispered, my heart full. “For everything.”
He smiled, a slow, sleepy smile that made my heart skip a beat. “Anytime, baby.”
And in that moment, surrounded by the remnants of my birthday and the sweet scent of weed.
taglist: @chrislilcumslvt @chrepsi @drewstarkeyzwhore
dividers by @bernardsbendystraws
A/n: i need to smoke I’m deprived
#chris smut#chris sturiolo fanfic#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo fluff#chris sturniolo#chris sturniolo x reader#sub chris sturniolo#chris materlist⭑.ᐟ
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