#chris sturniolo fanfiction | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

writtenbyan-aries · 1 day ago

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Summary: agent!reader and agent!chris go undercover on a mission together and they have to be rather.. close

Warnings: SMUT, strong language, enemies to lovers, heavy tension, being undercover, fake(ish) relationship, love confession, unprotected sex, creampie, general filth

Word Count: 10.8k

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You stormed into the office, making your way up to Chris. Your hands met his chest, giving him a shove backwards, “What the fuck, Chris!? That was my fucking shot. Not yours.”

Chris stumbles back but steadies himself with a smirk, his eyes filling with amusement at your anger, “Relax, y/n. You act like I stole your fucking lunch money.” He laughs at his own joke, “It was a good shot, and you know it.”

He sits down, leaning back in his chair, “But if you weren’t too busy running your mouth, you would’ve seen it coming.”

You scoff, and before you speak, he cuts you off, “You should thank me. I just saved you from embarrassing yourself.”

“I’m going to kill you.” As you step forward, the chief calling for you and Chris cuts it short. Chris stands up from his chair, his brows flicking up, “Try me.” He smirks, motioning to the door, “After you, princess.”

You shove past him, stepping into the chief’s office.

Chris follows you in and you roll your eyes. The chief motions to the chairs, “Sit down. We’ve got bigger problems than your childish bickering.”

You clench your jaw, sitting down in the seat next to Chris, but you don’t pay any attention to him. You let out a sigh, “What do we have?”

The chief looks between the two of you, his tone stern as he speaks, “Look, I know.” He scoffs, “Everyone, knows you two have your issues, but I need you to understand this isn’t some kind of joke.”

You nod, “I know it’s not, chief. What’s the case?”

The chief leans back, sliding a file across the desk and Chris and you both reach for it. You snatch it before he can grab it, flipping it open.

“You’re going undercover.” The chief sighs, “You’ll be after a high-profile arms dealer. We’ve been tracking him for months, but we need someone to get in close, someone he’ll trust. His operation is on the verge of blowing wide open, and we need to know who’s pulling the strings behind him.”

You watch as he glances between you and Chris, silently tell you what you already know before leaning in, “The target’s name is Vincent Marlowe. He’s been moving weapons through legitimate businesses, using them as fronts to not get caught. We need you two to play the part of a couple getting close to him and his associates. It’s a delicate operation. Any slip-up could blow this whole thing.”

You glance over at Chris as he taps his fingers against the edge of the desk, his smirk faulting into something more, focused.

He glances over at you, “Looks like we’re stuck with each other for this one. Try not to screw it up, alright?”

He glances down at the file in your hand, pulling it from your grasp and, clearly pretends, to study it while he waits for you to go back after him.

You sigh, looking up at the chief instead, “How do you want us to do that? We play a rich couple?”

The chief nods, holding up a picture of Marlowe, showing it to both of you before continuing.

“Exactly that, y/n. Marlowe’s into high society stuff. Luxury events, private parties, the whole lifestyle. It’s the perfect opportunity to get close to him and his network. You’ll need to play the part of a rich, influential engaged couple with a lot to offer. Think.. private jets, expensive tastes, that kind of thing.”

He looks directly at you, then Chris, making sure you both understand the importance.

You give him a nod, “High end shopping, something I’d have to sell my house for.” You sigh, leaning back into your seat, “Got it.”

“We’ve got some intel on his events, it’s in the file, but nothing solid enough yet. You both know the routine, blend in, gain his trust, dig up what you can.” He pauses, giving you both a look, “Keep it subtle. No arguing, bickering, or any of that shit. Don’t be too obvious and most importantly, do not break your cover.”

Chris chuckles, glancing over as his eyebrow arches up, “Rich couple, huh? Guess I can fake it.” He smirks, clearly enjoying the thought of playing the role with someone who claims to hate him.

“It’s a job, and I for one, am good at my job, so.” You nod at the chief, “Got it. I’ll text you when we land.” You stand up from your chair, and Chris follows you, “I guess I’ll see you at the airport, princess.”

“Stop. Calling me that.” You snap, “Jesus Christ.”

He raises his hands in mock defense, “Alright, alright, I’ll lay off. I was just going to offer you a ride to the airport.”

You roll your eyes, “No, thanks. I’m good.” You walk to your office, but Chris continues to follow, “Come on, I’ll keep you from being late.”

You grab your stapler, tempted to throw it at him, but you use it on the paper in your hand, “I said, I’m good.”

“Suit yourself. Don’t cry to me when you’re late.” He turns and walks away. You roll your eyes, taking a deep breath as you take in what these next few days mean.

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You arrive to the airport, before Chris, shocking.

“Well, well, look who decided to show up early,” Chris teases with a smirk, his eyes moving over you as he tosses his bag onto a nearby seat. He looks unfazed by the time crunch, and that pissed you off even more.

“Didn’t think you had it in you.” He smirks, earning an eye roll from you, but you ignore him, mumbling low, “wasting my breath.”

Chris laughs, sitting down across from you, “Yeah, I get it. You’re so done with me, but come on. Can’t you just admit for the sake of the mission that you actually love this? You’re not fooling anyone with the whole, don’t care attitude.”

You glance up at him, “Do you ever shut up?”

He lets out a playful sigh, “Only when I’m asleep, y/n.” He leans back, grabbing his phone, “But if you want some peace and quiet, you can always just admit that I’m right.” He smirks, “I know it’s hard for you, but that can just be our little thing.”

He shoots you a wink, shaking his head as he looks down at his phone. You roll your eyes, looking away.

On the jet, you force yourself to speak, “What are our cover names?”

He leans back in the seat and stares at you, “Right.” He starts, his tone now more focused, “We’ll be using fake shit for this.” He laughs, “You’ll be Charlotte Carter, a socialite and philanthropist. Real high-class stuff.” He raises his brows, his tone sarcastic, “Got connections in all the right places.”

He glances up at you, his eyes scanning you for a moment. You scoff, “Charlotte Carter? Please, that sounds like something straight out of a comic book.” You shake your head, “But, fine. Who are you?”

“I’m Ryan Bennett. Corporate guy with a bit of a reputation.” He smirks, “Think.. rich businessman, keeps a low profile.” He shrugs, “The kind of guy who blends into the background but still gets invited to all the best parties.”

He leans back in his seat, staring at you, “Do you need me to go over it again, or do you have it?”

You roll your eyes, “I got it.” You scoff, “Now.. our engagement story.. how did-“ you motion to Chris, “Ryan, propose to-“ you motion to yourself, “Charlotte?”

Chris seemed caught off guard by the question, but he quickly covered it up, “Ryan proposed to Charlotte at a private gala.” He leans back in his seat, “A big, extravagant affair. Candlelit dinner, a string quartet in the background, the whole shebang. He got down on one knee in front of all their friends and family, because, you know, he’s classy like that.” He smirks, “And, Charlotte, being the sophisticated woman she is, said yes, but only after a little dramatic pause, of course.” His smirk grows, “How’s that sound? Think Charlotte would go for a proposal like that?”

You sit there taking in his answer for a moment, “Yeah, sure.”

“Well, you’re stuck with it, so..” he leans back, “We need to make sure our stories are straight, y/n. How we met, how long we’ve been together, you know.”

“You act like I don’t know that, Chris.” You stare at him and he laughs, “Hey, I’m just making sure.” He raises his hands, “Wouldn’t wanna leave anything to chance, right?”

You pull the file over, “Yeah, right.” You look down over it, and you can feel his eyes on you, “What?”

You flick your eyes up at him.

He leans forward, letting out a sigh, “We’ll stick to the basics for our story, alright.” He leans back giving you a shrug, “Met at an art gallery, had a whirlwind romance. Nothing too complicated. Just enough to make it sound legit.” He pauses, “You good with that?”

“Art gallery?” You think about it for a few seconds before letting out a sigh, “Yeah, that’s fine.” You turn your attention back to the file, silently cursing when Chris opens his mouth again, “Right. An art gallery. Real classy, just like you, Charlotte.”

Your eyes move to look up at him, watching as he leans back in the seat. There was a shift in the energy between the two of you, but you weren’t saying anything about it.

Chris actually stays silent for a while, letting the weight of the mission settle as you both took it in.

As the plane lands, you sit up a little to stretch. A yawn slips your lips and Chris nods, “Yeah, that flight was killer. Figured you would have slept for more than half of it.”

You roll your eyes, “I couldn’t, even if I wanted to.” You watch him stand up to gather his things, eyes leaving him as soon as he turns around.

He notices, the smirk on his face tells you, but he doesn’t say anything, “You ready to make this whole rich couple thing work? Or are you planning on taking a nap the second we hit the ground?”

You give him a shrug, “Might crash for an hour if we have time. I don’t know.” You stand up, letting out a sigh as you move to gather your bags, “My back is killing me.”

He nods, making his way towards the exit, “I’m sure those seats are awful for someone who doesn’t sit still.”

You shoot him a glare, “I sat still, what are you talking about?”

He laughs, “Come on, we can get you a coffee. You know, so you’re not falling asleep on me during the mission.” He raises an eyebrow, his tone mixed with challenge and concern, “Unless you just want to sleep through the whole damn thing.”

You roll your eyes, “Shut up.”

He laughs, “Alright, okay. I’m just saying, maybe wouldn’t be the worst thing if you did. I actually might get a break from hearing your brilliant commentary.”

I shove past him, making my way down the jet’s steps before him, “You’re insufferable, Sturniolo.”

You hear him jog to catch up to you, “Insufferable? Nah.. I’m just more entertaining than you can handle.” He laughs, “You know, you could be a little nicer about it, though. It might make this whole, couple, thing more believable.”

He winks as you glance at him and a scoff leaves your lips, “I’ll start pretending when you buy me that coffee.”

You pull the car door open and get in, closing it with a slam.

Chris walks around to the drivers side after putting his bags in the car, as soon as he gets in, he laughs, “Buy you a coffee?” He shrug, “You know what? You’ve got yourself a deal, y/n. But, only because I’m in a generous mood.”

You raise your brows, “A generous mood? That’s rare.”

He chuckles, “But don’t think that just because I’m buying you coffee, you’ve won anything.” He smirks over at you, “We both know who’s really running the show here.”

You roll your eyes, “Yeah, whatever.”

Chris sighs, “Keep tellin’ yourself that.” Before you had a chance to say anything else, he speaks up, “You know, for someone who acts like they can’t stand me, you’re pretty fun to mess with.”

“You’re just an idiot.” You reply dryly, which earns a laugh from Chris, “Hey, idiots make the best company, don’t they?”

You don’t answer him, you just stare out the window, and that eggs him on more, “You know, if we didn’t have so much tension, we might actually get along.”

You look over at him, “What do you mean by tension? I hate you. Plain and simple.”

He clenches his jaw, quickly pulling that cocky smirk out to play, “Yeah, well. I hate you, too. But, hate really is a strong word, though, isn’t it? We can use.. complicated. How’s that?”

You go to argue, but you know that’s exactly shat he wants, well, actually. There’s no way out of this, so you just sigh, “Yeah, complicated. Whatever.”

Chris laughs, “See, that wasn’t so hard was it?” As you pull up to the coffee place, he looks over at you, “What do you want?”

You shrug, “I don’t know. Just-“ A sigh leaves your lips, “Get me a latte, vanilla with two sugars and an extra shot of espresso.”

“Vanilla latte, two sugars, extra shot of espresso.” He repeats the order back to you with a smirk, “I’d say you’re high-maintenance, but I already knew that.” He reaches for the door, “Stay here, I’ll be back.”

You stay quiet as he gets out, taking a deep breath as you let everything settle. It wasn’t often you got a second without Chris flapping his gums, it honestly felt kind of weird without it, but you wouldn’t ever admit that to him, though.

As you wait, your mind wanders, maybe it was you just being tired, but you kept thinking about Chris, and all of this other missions you’ve been on with him.

You guys were a good team, there was no doubt about that, but he got on your nerves, you just didn’t know if it was the good thing, or bad thing.

The longer you sit in silence, the more you questioned your, hate, for him.

Either way, you felt like it wouldn’t work, your agents. You know the game. Work and relationships don’t mix most of the time.

Chris pulling the door open snapped you from your thoughts, “Here you go, one complicated drink for the most complicated person I know.”

You scoff, “Yeah, thanks.” You take it and take a sip, letting out a sigh, “Let’s just go to the hotel. Get settled in. The party we need to attend is tomorrow night, so we can just study up the case, prepare tonight.”

“Alright, sounds like a plan.” He starts the car and starts heading toward the hotel, “Classic undercover move.”

You just shake your head, not giving into the banter.

“Just don’t expect me to be all business all night.” He smirks at you, giving you a shrug, “I’m still gonna keep you on your toes.”

“Just don’t do anything that’ll piss me off.” You sigh, but he’s shooting right back, “I can promise to try.” He says with a sigh, “But let’s be honest, it’s probably going to happen anyway.”

“Of course it is. It’s what you’re good at.” You mumble, looking out at the hotel as he parks, “Let’s just.. make it through the lobby, fiancé.”

“Wouldn’t be the best fiancé if I wasn’t make sure you weren’t bored, right?” He teases and you sigh, “If it helps you sleep at night, sure. Now come around and open my door. You need to act like you actually love me.”

There was no hesitation. Chris got out and walked around quickly to pull your door open, “Anything for you, darling.” He holds his hand out and you sigh as you take it, stepping out of the car.

Chris slides his hand around your waist, “Shall we, my love?”

You slip into the role easily, a little too easy, “Let’s do it, baby.” Your eye twitches at the pet name, but you play it off, following Chris’ lead into the hotel. His hand on your waist tightens as he walks you both up to the desk, “Hello, Ryan Bennett and Charlotte Carter checking in.”

The attendant gives a warm smile, “Yes, hello. Congratulations on your engagement.”

Chris smiles big, “Yeah, I’m a lucky guy with this one here.” He glances down at you and you keep the act up, “I don’t let anyone in easy, but this guy weaseled his way in.” You laugh, catching Chris’ smirk, “Can we get two keys please?”

The attendant nods with a slight laugh, “Of course, Ms Carter.” She glances at Chris, “You know, it’s the ones you least expect that make you the happiest.” She slides the keys over, “Enjoy your stay.”

“Oh we sure will.” Chris smiles, snatching the keys from the counter, “Here, sweetheart.” He hands you the key and you take it, “Thank you, baby.” I give the attendant a smile as we turn and I let out a scoff.

“Guess she has a point, don’t she?” Chris chuckles as he presses the elevator button, “Just don’t get any ideas, alright?”

“Trust me. My mind is on anything but you.” You step onto the elevator, pressing the correct floor button as Chris walks in to stand behind you, “Sure, sure. Just don’t get comfortable pretending like I’m not the most interesting thing on your mind.”

His voice is low, almost like he’s daring you to argue with him.

You sigh, sipping your coffee, “mhm, sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

As the doors open, Chris walks out first and you furrow my brows, “What? Did I piss you off for a change?”

Chris stops in his tracks, turning slightly as he repeats your words, “Piss me off?” He’s got this look on his face, like he’s deciding on whether to be irritated or entertained, “Nah, just wasn’t expecting you to be so.. calm, about everything. Thought you’d be more, I don’t know, fired up?”

You laugh, giving him a shrug, “I’ve had my coffee, so I’m good for a while.”

As you walk down the hall, Chris follow you, “You’re not exactly good at hiding what’s on your mind, you know.” He stops as you press the key to the door, “You and I both know that if I pissed you off, I’d know it by now.”

His hand slides over the door, pushing it open, “After you, sweetheart.”

You roll your eyes, walking in. You instantly take notice to there being only one bed and you let out a sigh that feels like you’ve been holding in for hours, “Of. Course.”

Chris steps up next to you, a smirk plastered on his face, his tone teasing, “Looks like someone didn’t do their homework.” He walks over, tossing his bag down on the floor by the dresser, “I mean, it is our bed, right?”

You set your bag down on the chair, ignoring him completely as you try not to let him bother you.

“Relax, y/n.” He chuckles, “You can always sleep on the floor if you’re that upset about it.” He shakes his head as he pulls the files from his bag.

“I’m not sleeping on the floor.” You snap, “Screw that.”

“Fine, fine. Your choice, but hey, if you really can’t handle sharing a bed with me, I’m sure we can figure out something else, alright.” He shrugs, “I’m just.. offering ideas.”

“We can share the damn bed, Chris. We’re both adults, well. One of us, at least.” You flick a brow up, “Just.. keep your hands to yourself.” You motion, “There’s a sign downstairs about a cocktail hour, figured we could go, blend in.”

“Relax, sweetheart,” he says, his tone saturated in amusement, “You’re not my type anyway.” He sends you a wink before bending down to pull out a new dress shirt, “That’s a good idea, blending in is the way to go.”

Something twisted inside of you, almost like his words hurt you, but you didn’t want to accept it, so you masked it with a laugh, “Good.” You pull your dress out of your bag and start walking towards the bathroom.

You stop as Chris speaks, “Try not to take too long getting ready, alright? I’d hate to have to drink alone while you spend an hour fixing your hair.”

He was teasing you, but you were pissed. About what? You weren’t sure, but your words let him know exactly how you were feeling, that’s for damn sure, “Go. Have a drink by yourself, like I fucking care.”

You could feel his eyes on you. As you glance back, he sighs quietly, his tone lower than usual, “Yeah, alright.” He pause like he’s thinking about saying more, but he doesn’t. He just turns to throw his shirt on the bed, eyes not even on you anymore, “Just don’t keep me waiting, too long.”

You hesitate, but inevitably walk into the bathroom, and that’s the first time any room you and Chris have ever been in, felt like that.

You didn’t even know what to call that. Chris always got under your skin, but that.. that was different.

As you slip on your dress, you ear the quiet shuffle of Chris in the room. You walk back out and within the time it took you both to change, Chris’ smirk was back on his face, “Damn.”

You watch as his eyes scan up and down your figure. He forces himself to look away, rolling the sleeves on his shirt up, “Guess we’ll have no problem getting people to believe we’re together.” He glances up, “Are you about ready or do you need another five minutes to stare at yourself?”

You roll your eyes, “Yeah we both look rich, I get it, and no. I can put my lipstick on in the elevator.” You sit down on the bed to put your heels on, and you can feel Chris’ stare burning into you, “No need to get all defensive, just don’t want you to keep me waiting like you always do.”

“Oh my god, I’m ready.” You sigh, standing up to grab your small bag, “You know.. for someone who said I wasn’t their type, you sure are having trouble keeping your eyes off of me.”

You glance over at him and he opens the door. As you walk out, he chuckles, “You noticed that, huh?” He follows you out, “Guess that means you were lookin’ at me too.”

You roll your eyes, shaking your head as you watch him push the elevator button. You dig in your purse pulling out your mirror and your lipstick, flicking both open to paint your lips.

Chris turns to face you as he leans against the wall, “And just for the record, I didn’t say you weren’t attractive, I just said you weren’t my type.”

You laugh slightly, continuing to try and cover up your real feelings towards it, “Is that supposed to bother me? Me not being your type?”

You step onto the elevator after him and he chuckles, “I don’t know, sweetheart.” He smirks, tilting his head ever so slightly, “But you’re sure working hard to act like it doesn’t.”

You clench your jaw, closing your eyes before looking down to toss your mirror and lipstick back into your small bag.

Before you can even say a word, he steps up behind you, his voice lower as he cuts you off, “It’s okay, though..” he pauses, “I get under your skin. You get under mine. That’s kinda our thing, isn’t it?”

You tilt your head, “I’m not-“ you pause, “Let’s just get through this hour so I can go back to the room and sleep on the damn floor.”

As soon as the doors open, you walk off, Chris following you with an amused huff, “Suit yourself, but if you wake up sore as hell in the morning, don’t expect me to listen to you complain about it.”

He pulls the door open and rests his hand on your lower back, leaning in to whisper low for only you to hear, “Showtime, sweetheart. Try not to look like you wanna kill me in front of all these people, yeah?”

With being reminded about the mission, you snap into action, playing the role of Charlotte Carter, Ryan Bennett’s fiancé.

With a smile, you walk with Chris to the bar. As Chris notices your smile, he leans in, almost sounding like he was admiring you, “There she is.”

He looks at the bartender and orders two drinks.

It didn’t take long for them to come out and Chris hands you yours and holds his glass up slightly, “To a long and happy engagement.” He toasts before clinking his glass with yours.

“To a long and happy engagement.” You repeat, bringing your glass up to your lips to take a sip.

His eyes stay on you over the rim of his glass, searching for anything real under the facade you’re trying to hard to hold up.

You don’t crack, you just scan the room, the smile still holding strong on your lips.

Chris leans in, “See anyone interesting?” He asks, gaming another sip of his drink, his hand staying on your waist. His thumb deliberately brushes over the fabric on your hip as he leans in to whispers just so you can hear, “Or are you too busy trying not to stab me with that tiny cocktail straw?”

“What are you doing?” You mumble, bringing your glass to your lips, “Your eyes should be on the room, not me, Ryan.”

“I’m just trying to make sure you’re not going to stab someone with that straw, Charlotte.” He chuckles, “But I’ll take note, next time I’ll keep my eyes on the room, since you’d rather be left alone.”

You shifted subtly at his words, a small sigh escaping your nose. It felt suffocating to be next to him. In the dress. In the room, surrounded by all of these people.

You didn’t know what was happening. You could feel the burn in your eyes and it confused you more than anything.

You pulled it together, taking another sip of your drink before shaking your head, “Whatever.”

Chris caught on, immediately catching the subtle shift in your energy, your posture. His hand tighten on your waist, pulling you closer to him with ease, “You know..” his tone is quiet, casual, “I didn’t mean to push you. I’m just trying to keep us in character.”

You tilt your head up, feeling that same burn returning and you decided to exit before it progressed. You left out a slight laugh, “yeah, character.” You set your glass down, avoiding eye contact with him, “I need to go to the bathroom.”

Without another word, you turn, making your way through the crowd and into the bathroom. You immediately went up to the counter, hands gripping it tight as you tried to control your breathing.

Were you having a panic attack?

Did Chris really get under your skin this bad?

Was it the mission?

Was it being somewhere you felt like you didn’t belong and you feel like people knew?

Maybe it was a mix of everything.

But one thing you did know, was that this, has never happened to you before, and you weren’t really sure on what to do but fake it until you made it.

Meanwhile, while you were pulling yourself together, Chris made his way over, leaning against the wall as he waited for you to come out.

As you pull yourself together, you took a deep breath, slipping back into the role of Charlotte and smiled at yourself in the mirror. You turned, making your way out of the bathroom with the same, happy go lucky smile.

You glanced over, seeing Chris push himself up from the wall with the look like he’s trying to dissect what just happened. He walks up to you, “There she is.” His eyes scan over your face, “You good now, or should I be worried about you coming after me with that straw?”

You hold your ground, trying not to let anything show through the cracks, but Chris can read you, it’s what he does for a living, you weren’t stupid.

You laugh, gently pushing his shoulder, “You’re so funny, Ryan.” You slide your hand around his arm, nudging him subtly, “Come on, let’s go mingle.”

He knew not to be dumb and say he doesn’t fully believe you, because he knew you both couldn’t afford to have you walk off again.

He laughs slightly, “Yeah, yeah, I’m hilarious.” He leads you into the crowd, keeping up the playful act, “Don’t get too comfortable with the other guests.”

You laugh, “Oh please, you know I like talking all my fancy talk with people.” You giggle, “I think I need another drink, also, Vincent Marlowe is right up there.”

Chris notices the shift in your tone when you say the targets name. He nods, laying his hand on your lower back, “Alright, alright, let’s get you that drink, sweetheart.” He leads you to the bar, leaning in to whisper, “We’ll get Marlowe in no time.”

You lean on the bar, happily telling the bartender what you wanted, “And then.” You look at Chris, “Whatever my fiancé wants, please.”

Chris orders his drink, keeping it simple before his eyes move back to study you. He doesn’t gaze long, knowing how short fused you are right now.

He just slowly grazes his thumb over your lower back as his eyes scan out over the crowd. He turns back as the bartender sets down your glasses and he picks his up.

He angles it towards yours, “To us.” He clinks his glass against yours and leans in to whisper, “And keeping up appearances.”

You smile, keeping up with the facade, “Perfect toast, honey.” You clink your glass to his and take a sip. You look around before leaning in closer to Chris, whisper into your glass, “He’s coming down here.”

Chris’ posture becomes more on alert with your words, his hand tightening around your waist as he plays the cool, collected role, “Good.” He mumbles into his glass, turning to step closer to you, “Stick to the script. We’re a happy couple. Don’t get too cozy with him. Can’t afford to throw everything off.”

You clench your jaw at his words, tilting your head slightly, but you keep the smile on your face, pretending like he didn’t just act like you don’t know what you’re doing here.

Vincent Marlowe finally approaches and there’s a shift in the air.

“Ah, the happy couple as I live and breathe.” He chuckles, eyes grazing between you and Chris as he offers his hand to Chris first.

Chris shakes it, watching as his hand moves to you. You reach out, shaking his hand and you force your smile as Vincent’s hand lingers on yours, almost like he’s taking in every detail.

“Vincent Marlowe.” He finally introduced himself, a slight bow of his head, “Charlotte and Ryan, correct?”

“That’s right.” Chris nods, and you smile, “Nice to meet you, Mr. Marlowe.” You slide your arm around Chris’ waist, “Lovely cocktail hour, is it not?”

Vincent notices your arm going around Chris and he watches, almost like he’s sizing the both of you up, “Oh, please. The pleasure is all mine, Charlotte.” He offers a smile, “It is lovely indeed.”

His attention stays on you, “You two make quite the couple.” He glances at Chris then back to you. Chris’ hand stiffens on your waist, a protective hold, “Thank you, Vincent.”

Vincent chuckles, “It’s always good to see people so well matched.“

Chris immediately steps in casually, “Thank you, we’ve been together for a while now.” He looks over, holding your gaze just enough to keep it believable before glancing back at Vincent.

Vincent nods, “quite the lovely story.” His tone tells you that’s he’s buying into your fake facade, but his demeanor screams that he isn’t a fool, “You two should join me for dinner later.”

You give him a nod with a small smile, “Dinner sounds lovely, Mr. Marlowe. Just tell us the time and the place.”

Vincent is someone who doesn’t take being turned down too lightly, your agreeance fueled the fire in his eyes, “Excellent. I’ll have my assistant send over the details.” He pauses, “It’ll be a private affair, of course, just the right atmosphere to get to know each other better.”

You and Chris can feel the game Vincent is playing, you’re both on edge, but remain calm.

“Looking forward to it.” Chris says with a nod, and Vincent nods, his gaze lingering on you and chris for a moment, “I’ll see you soon.”

He walks away, leaning you and Chris alone.

Chris doesn’t move, he just lets out a slow breath, “That went well.”

“Yeah.” I sigh, bringing my glass to my lips, “What do you think dinner is going to entail?”

Chris leans back against the bar, his eyes scanning out over the crowd as he brings his own glass to his lips for a slow drink, “It’s gonna be a game, probably. Marlowe doesn’t invite people to dinner unless he thinks there’s something to gain.” He shifts his weight slightly, his hand still pressing to your hip, “We’ve gotta play it cool. Keep up the act, make him feel like he’s in control, but he’s not someone we want to underestimate.”

His eyes flick over to you before moving back out to the crowd, “We need to be ready for anything. Stay sharp, keep him interested.”

You nod silently, your gaze meeting the floor before all of those unusual feeling rush forward at an even harder rate. You take a deep breath, pulling yourself together, “We got this.”

Chris notices your shift in your demeanor, but he doesn’t say anything. He just steps closer, his shoulder brushing against yours with a sincere tone, “Remember, we’re a team. Whatever happens in that dinner, we’ve got each other’s backs.”

He glances over at you, “let’s just make it through the night. We’re almost done.”

━━━━━━━━ 𖦏 ━━━━━━━━

As you walk up to the desk, the attendant smiles politely, “Hello. How can I help you?”

“Any messages for Ryan Bennett or Charlotte Carter?”

The attendant slides an envelope across the counter and Chris takes it, turning towards you as he opens it. Inside is a small paper, Marlowe Private Estate. Seven O’Clock. Arrive Promptly.

Chris scoffs, shaking his head. He turns back to the desk attendant, “Thank you.” He turns, walking a few steps away with you, “You ready for this?” He pauses, giving you time to answer.

You look up at him, “I don’t have a choice.” You straighten up, “I’m good.”

Chris’ eyes scan over your face before he nods, “Good. Come on. No time to waste.” He lays his hand on your back as he leads you out of the hotel and to the car.

The car ride itself was quiet.

No one said a word.

It made it feel a lot longer than it actually was.

As soon as the car stops, Chris is out and walking around to open your door. He holds his hand out and you promptly take it, allowing him to help as you step out. He leans in, whispering just for you to hear, “Let’s make this count.”

You give him a nod, a fake smile forming on your lips as you follow Chris up to the door.

“Ryan Bennet. Charlotte Carter.” The butler nods, “Good evening.” He pulls the door open, motioning for you both to walk in, “Right this way.” He walks past you and Chris, leading the way.

The interior of Marlowe’s house is rich, luxurious. Dark wood paneling, high ceilings, and perfectly arranged furniture. Every surface conveys power and wealth.

No sign of danger as of right now, but it was just the beginning of the night.

Chris hand brushed against your back as he leaned in to whisper, “Keep your guard up. He’s been known to test people, see how much he can push.”

You give him a nod, keeping your composure as you walk into a room with Marlowe and a few other guests sitting by a big fireplace.

“You look perfect.” Chris whispers, and you felt your chest tighten. It felt both genuine and for the act, which only made your feelings push harder at the dam you quickly built.

You stayed silent and Chris rubbed his thumb over your back, “Let’s just blend in and see what we can see.”

You nod, following the butler up to be reintroduced to Marlowe. He notices you immediately, “Ah, Ms Carter. Mr. Bennet.” He greets as he stands, “I’m glad you could make it tonight. It’s not every day I have such illustrious company.”

He motions to the men in the room, “Charlotte, Ryan, I’d like to you to meet a few of my good friends. This is Harry Devers. Logan Marren, and last but not least, Steven Driers.”

None of those names ring a bell for you for Chris. You both offer polite nods and nice to meet you’s.

“I trust the trip was comfortable?” Marlowe asks, and Chris responds smoothly, “Of course, Mr. Marlowe. Thank you for hosting us.”

After a while of conversation, you smile, “Everything has been perfect, thank you. We’re happy to be here.”

Vincent studies you for a moment, trying to figure out if your smile is as genuine as you’re making it out to be, “I heard quite a lot about you two.” He pauses, “A power couple, some would say.”

He picks up before either you or Chris could speak, “It’s not often I meet people who understand the weight of the game. But then again, I suspect you already do.”

Chris response, his tone and smirk full of charm, “We’re just here for the fun, Mr. Marlowe. We don’t need the spotlight.”

“A power couple, huh?” You laugh lightly, “I wouldn’t say we’re that just yet.”

“Ah, modesty. I appreciate that.” Vincent chuckles, “Well then, I do hope you both enjoy the evening. There’s plenty to see.. and plenty to learn.” He gives a nod before walking off to take you into the next part of the night.

You glance over at Chris, looking away before he notices, or maybe he already did. You didn’t care, you bring your drink up to your lips and finish what little bit of liquid you had left.

You feel the weight of the room pressing in on you, the conversations swirling around you like a dance that you feel you’re just barely keeping up with.

As you set your glass down on the nearest tray, you catch Vincent looking at you and Chris, offering him a small subtle smile in return.

As he looks away, your eyes move to Chris and he smirks, which confused you, but he’s probably just keeping up with the act, “You good?”

You keep up the act, “yeah, great.”

Chris studies you for a second, his eyes narrowing as he seems to be looking for anything that gives it away that you’re not being fully honest.

His tone tinted with sarcasm, “Good. Because if you’re going to keep playing the part, we need to make sure we’re both on the same page. Don’t want Marlowe catching on to anything, right?”

You nod, tilting your head at him, “I know, sweetheart.”

Chris keeps his eyes on you, “I know you’ve got this, but if you need me to step in, just say the word.”

You swallow, “I’m fine, I’ll be fine.”

Chris nods, “We should probably get some air.” He motions towards the balcony, “Marlowe’s not the only one with eyes on us. Let’s give them something to talk about.”

You nod, walking towards the balcony with you on his arm.

The cool air hits you as you step out, the conversation fading as you grow further away from it. You take a much needed deep breath, feeling like you can finally fill your lungs.

“You sure you’re okay?”

Chris’ words sting, but you play if off, “Can we not do this now?” You glance over at him, “I’m fine.”

“Alright, alright.” He lifts his hands from the banister, “Well talk later, I get it.”

You clench your jaw, now really wanting to say anything, you knew he was going to ask about what happened at the cocktail party prior to this.

Your eyes glance over at him as leans casually against the railing, his posture relaxed, but there’s still a watchful sense in his eyes.

You look out, taking in the city lights scattered below, and how, despite the weight of the mission, everything feels almost normal, like it’s just two people simply enjoying a moment together.

Chris breaks the silent, leaning into you, “You’re doing a hell of a job pretending, I’ll give you that. Marlowe’s eating it up.”

A small smile rests on your lips, “That’s the plan right?” You glance over at him as he continues, “We can keep playing the part until we get what we need. Then, we go from there. Deal?”

You nod, “Deal.”

“Alright then, let’s get back to the show.” Chris offers his arm and you take it, filling your lungs with the fresh air before walking back in to be swallowed by the weight of the mission.

“Get ready, this is the part where we seal the deal.” Chris whispers before you make your way up to Vincent. Chris speaks up, “Mr. Marlowe, hope you don’t mind us taking a brief breather. Just needed to catch up a bit. It’s not every day we get invited to something this exclusive.”

Vincent chuckles, pleased by the attention, “Of course, of course. It’s been a pleasure having you both here. I trust you’re finding everything to your liking?”

Chris leans in, making the moment between them private, “Absolutely. We were just talking about that dinner you said about, seems like the perfect opportunity to continue our chat, maybe discuss future plans, you know?”

Vincent seems intrigued by Chris’ words, but he’s not easily swayed.

That’s where you step in, “We were actually hoping to discuss more than just a partnership over dinner.” You begin, “I think we both see the potential in aligning ourselves with someone like you. We’ve got the connections, the influence, and I believe you’re the kind of person who takes an opportunity when it’s right in front of him.”

There’s a pause, the weight of your words settling into his mind before he nods, “I think dinner sounds like a fine idea.” Still, he’s no fool, he knows you’re offering more than just words, and yet, he’s eager to see where this leads, “Let’s make it happen, shall we?”

“Perfect, Mr. Marlowe.” You give him a smile, “Let us know when and where works for you and we will see you then.” You offer your hand to seal the deal.

He takes it, gripping it firmly, “I’ll have my assistant reach out with the details,” he says, giving a nod of approval. “Looking forward to it.”

With that, he walks away.

Chris leans in, “Nice work.” He brushes his hand against your back, “Let’s just make sure we’re ready when the dinner rolls around. This is where things get interesting.”

Chris walks forward and you follow him out to the car. As he opens your door for you, his eyes scan over your face, “So, we got his attention. What’s the next step?”

“Talk in the car.” You whisper as you get in. Chris closes the door and walks around to slip into the drivers seat.

You keep your gaze out the windshield, “So we have him on the hook.” You glance over at Chris, “How do we really sell it at dinner?”

“We play it like we’ve been playing it all along.” he says glancing at you, “We’re the picture-perfect couple. Rich, in love, completely head over heels for each other. We keep it light, keep it playful. Make Marlowe think he’s seeing the real deal.”

You nod, “Good plan.”

Chris nods, “It’s all about control. We need him to believe we’re just like every other couple chasing the next thing, playing the game, you know? The more we show him that we’ve got it all together, the more he’ll trust us.”

After a moment of silence, Chris speaks up, “You good with that? You’re in control too, you know.”

You glance over at him, “Yeah, I know. I’m fine with it, I trust you.” You look back out at the road, the weight of the day weighing heavy on you. Before Chris can say anything about it, you pull your phone out and call the Chief, filling him in on everything.

The rest of the ride to the hotel was silent after the call ended.

━━━━━━━━ 𖦏 ━━━━━━━━

Once you’re back in the room, the door clicks shut behind you, and you can finally let out a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding.

Chris leans up against the wall, “We did good tonight, but tomorrow’s the real test.”

You glance back at him with a nod as you kick off your heels, “we did good.” You turn, rummaging through your bag, and you were just waiting for the other shoe to drop.

After a few moments of silence, and his stare burning into the back of you, he speaks, “You sure you’re alright?”

“I’m tired.” You lie, your words a mumble, “I’m going to go for a shower if you don’t need in there.” You lay your clothes over your arm and turn to look at him.

He stares at you, almost like he wants to ask more, but he doesn’t, “Nah, you go ahead.” He steps out of the way, “I’ll be here if you want to talk later.”

You nod, making your way into the bathroom. You turn it on, stripping off your clothes from the night and you step in. As soon as the water hits you, it’s like the key to getting all of those pent up feelings out.

Chris, being a big part of them, was also having his own feelings outside. Even though you tried to keep your sobs as silent as possible, he heard them. He just chose to let you have your moment.

Meanwhile, you were going through something that’s never happened before. You have never felt so out of place on a mission before. You have never been nervous, wanted to turn away, back out, nothing, like you do right now.

Things were blurring, that line between work and play was starting to merge together, at least on your end.

Chris gets under your skin, like, really gets under your skin, but you liked it. He didn’t make it easy for you, but when he said what he said, it was like gut punch, causing you to puke up all these feelings that were just under the surface and now you don’t know what to do.

You pull yourself together, allowing yourself to calm down before you got out and started to dry off.

You took your time and got dressed, making it look like you weren’t just crying under the stream of water before walking out.

Chris is sitting on the edge of the bed, his eyes flicking up to you as you walk out. You motion, “Shower’s free.”

He nods, “Thanks.”

You walk over to drop your clothes by your bag and Chris breaks the silence again, “You alright?”

Your heart drops into your stomach, but you play it cool, “Yeah, I think I just needed a shower.” You look at him, and he doesn’t look convinced but he doesn’t push. He nods, standing up to walk towards the bathroom.

He stops, “You know..” he hesitates, eyes searching the wall like he’s trying to figure out what he wants to say, “You don’t have to fake it with me.”

With that, he walks into the bathroom, the door closing and the sound of the shower fills the quiet space.

You walk over, sitting on the edge of the bed with your eyes glued to the floor. Your head, that’s normally a calm, cool, and collected place, was being ransacked by everything all at once.

Chris’ words echoed in your mind, you don’t have to fake it with me.

But wasn’t that the whole point? To fake it? To play your part so well that even you believed it?

The sound of the shower turning off snaps you back to reality and you wipe your face. You grab the tv remote and lean back against the headboard, flipping through the channels on the tv like you’re not on the verge of packing up and pulling from this mission.

“There’s nothing good on.” I glanced over at him, watching as he walks over and sits on his side of the bed. He nods, “Yeah, hotel tv is always garbage.” He leans back on the bed, propping himself up on his elbows as he watches you flip through the channels, “You’re just flipping to flip now.”

You laugh slightly, tossing the remote down as you chew on your lip, thinking about what you want to say, how you want to say it.

“You don’t have to say anything, but if you do, I’m here.” Chris whispers, lying back against the headboard, his eyes are on the tv but his tone is genuine.

After a moment of silence, you finally give in, “I’m just, a mess.. I guess.”

“Yeah.” Chris acknowledges it, “You’ve been holding it together all day.” He turns his head towards you, “You don’t have to do that with me.”

His eyes stay on you, like he’s waiting for you to finally take off the mask, “Is it.. the mission? Or is it more?”

You shrug, “It’s.. everything. The mission, the luxury, the pressure, and-“ you stop before you say anything else. Your teeth gnaw at your cheek as you debate on whether or not you even want to say anything about him.

A part of you feels stupid.

Chris stays quiet, his eyes staying on you, “And?” His tone is gentle, “You don’t have to hold it all in, y/n.”

You take a deep breath, “You.” Your words are quiet, “It’s you.. and you..” I shake my head, “You telling me I wasn’t your type, was like a surprise gut punch that made me realize that I had actual feelings for you.”

You blink, “I thought we were just two people who got under each others skin for the hell of it, the fun of it, whatever, but apparently there’s more I didn’t even know was there.”

“And then the mission..” You continue, “I feel so.. out of place here. I don’t do the fancy dresses. I don’t do the luxury. I feel like I don’t belong here and every rich bitch down there was judging me and I feel like I was going to get us killed because they knew that. That dress I had on, one of the worst dresses I’ve ever put on.”

You keep going, “And then the pressure of this mission, I’m usually good with pressure, I’m good with this kind of stuff, and the fact that I’m losing my shit scares me because it’s not something that I do.”

You go quiet, your own words setting into you just like they are for Chris. He sits there silently as he processes before finally letting out a breath, “You don’t belong in that dress, y/n. You belong in your own element. You’re doing this mission better than anyone could, and I know it feels like a lot right now, but it doesn’t help that you’ve been handling it all on your own. As for the pressure, you’re not losing it. You’re just.. human.”

You glance over at him, your eyes staying on him as he pauses. His eyes moving to meet yours, “And about me..” His voice is quiet, “I’m not saying you’re not my type. What I meant was…”

He pauses, trying to find the right words, “I was trying to protect myself from what I feel for you, because this mission is dangerous enough without letting things get messy.” He shifts slightly, his words coming out with more honesty than you’ve heard from him before, “But I’m not doing a great job at it, am I?”

He chuckles slightly and you crack a smile, “We’re both not doing so hot right now.”

He shifts on the bed, leaning back against the headboard. “Look, if you need a moment to figure this all out, I get it. But don’t think for one second you’re in this alone.”

He looks over at you, “We’re in this together. All of it.”

You nod, shifting to face him more, “That’s why I’m losing it, too. I’m trying to stay professional and on top of this mission and with you in my head, it’s hard. If anything were to happen to you because I wasn’t on my A-game, I couldn’t ever live with myself.” You hold your gaze on him, “That’s why I wasn’t talking much, barely acting myself, I was holding myself together and I was scared that if I spoke, I’d break in the worst moment.”

“I get it. I do.” Chris nods, “I’m not asking you to put this mission before yourself or us. You’re not the only one struggling with this, y/n.” He leans forward slightly, his eyes never leaving yours, “I know the stakes are high, and I know how much you care about the mission, but you’re more than just a partner to me, y/n.”

You nod, “You’re more than just a partner to me, too, Chris.”

His eyes soften at your words, “And that’s what scares the hell out of me. Because I don’t want to be the reason you get distracted. I don’t want to be the one who makes you feel like you’re losing control of yourself.” He reaches over, his hand brushing against yours, “But I want you to know, no matter how much this gets to us, we’ve got each other. We’ll get through this, together. We always do.”

You glance down at his hand on yours, which lingers for a moment, as he waits for you to respond.

You turn your hand, giving his a gentle squeeze, “I think the only reason I was a mess was because I didn’t know how to tell you. I think with what you said, now knowing you were trying to protect yourself, I was scared you wouldn’t feel the same, and I’d lose you completely.”

He runs his thumb over your knuckles, giving you a nod, “You don’t ever have to worry about that.” He starts quietly, “I was just trying to keep us both safe, trying not to lose my focus and make this mission harder than it already is. But losing you? That’s not something I can even imagine. I’m not going anywhere, y/n. Not now, not ever. I feel the same way, even if I didn’t know how to say it.”

You nod, keeping your eyes on his as he squeezes your hand, “We’ll make it through this together. No more pretending, no more pushing things aside. We’ve got each other.” He pauses, a small, genuine smile tugging at his lips, “And I promise, I’ll be here, every step of the way.”

You stare at him, letting the silence settle for a second.

You keep your eyes on his then move them to his lips, allowing them to linger for a second before looking back into his eyes, “How’s it feel to be the one that broke the y/n y/l/n, huh?”

You laugh slightly, making light of the situation, and he smirks as he leans in a little bit closer, “Feels pretty damn powerful, actually.” he teases before he pauses, his face softening as his eyes scan over your face, “In all seriousness, y/n. I never wanted to be the one to make you feel like this. I just.. I didn’t know how to handle it, how to say the right things when everything got so.. complicated?”

He reaches forward, slowly brushing a strand of hair from your face, his thumb lightly brushing your cheek, “But I’m glad it’s out there now, and you’re not broken.” He shakes his head, “Not by a long shot. But if I broke the y/n y/l/n, guess that means I’m the one who gets to fix her, right?”

He raises an eyebrow, his lips forming into a smile.

“Yeah I guess you’re right.” You smile, letting out a slight laugh, “You’re the only one who could piss me off and expect me to be right back there a minute later looking for another fight.”

“Guess I’m just lucky.” He smirks with a chuckle, leaning into closer, “I’ll take that as a compliment. I must be doing something right if I can keep you coming back for more.”

You nod, tilting your head, “Something’s right, that’s for sure.”

He smiles, eyes scanning over your features, “I wouldn’t want it to be anyone else.”

You shake your head, “Neither would I.” You lean in, closing the space with your lips on his in a gentle kiss at first, but something shifts and you move to your knees in front of him. Your lips still moving with his as your arm snakes around his neck.

Chris responds immediately, his hands moving to your waist to stable you as he moves closer to you. His hand comes up to gently caress your cheek as he mumbles against your lips, “Been waitin’ for this.”

You smirk against his lips, turning to straddle his waist, “So have I.” You whispered as you lean forward, pushing him back to lay down. Your lips trail back his jaw and he lets out a low groan, tilting his head to give you more access.

“Guess we’re both a little overdue, huh?” He slides his hand up your back, gently grabbing the back of your neck to pull you into a heated kiss, a deeper kiss.

You grind down on him, earning another groan and his grip on your hip tightens, pulling you closer.

You had his full attention.

His hands slide down, pulling at the hem of your shirt and you break the kiss just to pull it off. His eyes scan up and down your bare torso and chest as his hands slide up to your sides.

He sits up, pressing his lips to yours before leaning back slightly, “Are you sure about this?” His voice was low, asking permission before moving to do anything else.

You give him a nod, lips pressing to his, “Never been so sure about anything.”

He responds with an even deeper kiss, his hands pulling you closer before rolling you over onto your back, lips still working against yours.

“I need you.” You whisper out, tilting your head back as he trails kisses back your jaw, stopping at your ear to whisper, “I need you, too, y/n.”

He presses kisses to neck, his hand sliding down to slip into your sweats. A gasp escapes your lips as you feel his fingers press to your clit, rubbing small circles as he presses his lips to yours once more.

Your breath hitches as his pressure grows harder, “Chris, please.” Your back lifts from the bed to press your chest against his. A moan leaving your lips as his fingers slip down and curl into you, “Fuck.”

“You’re gonna be so worth the wait.” Chris mumbles against your lips, moving to kiss back your jaw.

You let out a louder moan as his fingers work in and out of you, “Shit, yes.” You breathe out, “Yes.”

He pulls his hand away, out from your sweats and he grips the sides, pulling them down. His hands move to push his own down, his eyes trailing up your body as he holds his lip between his teeth, “You’re fucking perfect.”

Your face softens at his words, reaching out for him as he leans down. His lips immediately finding yours as his arm hooks your leg over it to bend it upward.

You whimper, your breathing rapid with the anticipation of what comes next.

As he slides into you, his name leaves your lips in a pleasure filled moan, “Chris, Chris.” You gasp, pulling him closer and he groans into your neck, “Y/n.. fuck, you feel so good.”

He quickly gets into a pace, it’s slow, almost like he’s trying to feel every inch of what you’re offering to him.

Your nails dig into his back, your leg tightening around his arm, “Feels so good.” Your head tilts back, gasping out as his lips suck a mark into your skin.

His voice is low, “You have no idea how much you mean to me, y/n. You’re everything I never knew I needed.” His lips trail up your neck to your lips, moving with them in a heated motion.

His pace picks up and he groans, “Can’t get enough of you.”

“I’m-“ you gasp, back arching from the bed, “Fuck, I’m not going anywhere.”

“M’never letting you go.” He mumbles against your lips before deepening the kiss. His grip on your body tightening as his pace grows harder.

Your nails drag up his back, leaving red lines in its path, “Fuck, yes. Yes.”

You were already there, on the verge of becoming a mess under him. You weren’t sure if it was the tension building up over time, or if it was the fact that what you both wanted was finally happening, but you were there.

And Chris knew it.

With his full attention being on you, he could tell from every movement you made, every sound you made, “Come for me, baby.” He groans low, “Fuck, I can feel you’re right there, just let go for me.”

His words push you into the deep end, pleasure engulfing you as your body tenses and tightens around him, whines slipping from your lips with moans automatically following.

His eyes are glued to your face as he guides you through, watching how your eyes squeeze shut and your lips part as your breathing becomes more rapid.

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispers before crashing his lips onto yours, “so fucking beautiful.”

His thrusts grow sloppy and you tighten your leg around his waist, “Don’t stop.” You plead, “Fuck, don’t stop.”

“Not stopping.” He assures, his lips pressing to yours harder. He groans against them, moving to press open mouth kisses down your neck as he groans louder.

You can feel his cock twitching inside of you, giving you what you wanted most in this moment, “Fuck.” You gasp out, “Chris.”

You both stay still for a second, taking in what just happened. You hold him tighter, hand gently dragging up and down his back.

He shifts, lying next to you with his face still in your neck. His hand gives your thigh a reassuring squeeze, “You okay?”

You nod, smiling up at the ceiling as your hand moves to lay on his head, fingers gently scratching, “Better now.” You turn your head, “You?”

“Better now.” He whispers against your neck, a soft chuckle escaping his lips, “Didn’t know I had it in me to break the infamous y/n.”

You laugh, “Well, you did.” I look down at him, “So what’s next? You want to go over how we’ll get Marlowe to agree to partner with us, or do you have another idea?”

Chris smirks, his fingers gently grazing your skin, “As much as I’d love to run through our game plan, I think we’ve had enough mission talk for one night.” He raises a brows, “Unless you’re telling me you’d rather talk business than stay right here, of course.”

You smirk, “Yeah, I’ve had enough business talk for one night.” You move around, pulling the blankets up over both you and Chris.

He shifts around, pulling you to his chest and he lets out a sigh, “That’s what I like to hear.” He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your head, “Get some sleep. You need to shut your brain off for a bit. We’ll focus on handling Marlowe tomorrow.”

━━━━━━━━ 𖦏 ━━━━━━━━

Thank you so much for reading and thank you so much for being patient with me. I hope you liked this. Let me know. As always, I love you, catch you in the next one! 🖤

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

101 notes · View notes

vanteguccir · 2 months ago

Text

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤGRAMMYS 2025 * CHRIS STURNIOLO

SUMMARY　::　where Y/N, worldwide famous singer, goes to the Grammys 2025 and brings Chris as her pair for the first time.

FEATURING　Chris Sturniolo x singer!reader　REQUESTED?　yes.

WARNINGS　::　none.

AUTHOR'S NOTE　::　that is my work, I DON'T authorize any form of plagiarism; copy, "inspiration" or translation! | english isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

Y/N had been nominated for five Grammy Awards this year. Five. And yet, for some reason, the thought of stepping onto that carpet, under the flashing lights and watchful eyes of the entire world, made her more nervous than she’d ever been.

It wasn’t her first time - this was her fifth Grammy appearance - but the nerves never seemed to dull, no matter how many times she did this.

Her team had tried everything: chamomile tea, soothing massages, deep breathing exercises, playing her favorite calming playlist at a low volume in the background, even giving her a dozen of those custom-made chocolates with her face printed on them. But nothing helped. Not really.

Not even Chris’s kisses; though she had to admit, they were a very welcome distraction.

They were in a penthouse suite of a luxurious hotel in downtown Los Angeles, even though their house was barely a twenty-minute drive away. It was protocol, her team insisted. Every artist did it - getting ready in a hotel, away from distractions, with stylists, makeup artists, and PR people swarming around. It was meant to be a controlled environment, a perfectly curated lead-up to the biggest night in music. But it only added to the pressure.

Y/N stood in front of a massive floor-to-ceiling mirror, wrapped in a silk robe, her bare feet sinking into the plush carpet as a makeup artist blended soft eyeshadow onto her lids. Her hairstylist was behind her, curling strands of her hair into loose waves. She looked poised on the outside, but internally, her nerves were tying knots in her stomach.

Chris sat on the couch a few feet away, watching her intently. He was already dressed - black tux, crisp white shirt, and a bow tie he had spent fifteen minutes fighting with before her makeup artist took pity on him and fixed it for him.

He looked good.

Really good.

The kind of good that made her momentarily forget about the nerves. But she wasn’t the only one nervous tonight.

Chris had been jittery since this morning, though he tried not to show it. This was his first time attending something this big, this formal, and while he was used to attention, this was a whole new level. He was going to be surrounded by the most famous people in the world, and for the first time, he wasn’t just Chris Sturniolo, the YouTuber; he was Chris Sturniolo, Y/N’s date to the Grammys.

But instead of letting his own anxiety get to him, he focused on her, observing how her fingers twitched, manicured nails shining below the lights with every tremble.

"Baby." He cooed, standing and walking toward her as soon as the makeup artist stepped aside. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her exposed shoulder, his big hands finding home around her hips, squeezing the covered skin. "What are you feeling, huh? 'Can feel you stressing from across the room, doll."

Y/N sighed, her hands gripping the edges of the vanity table, being careful not to knock her knuckles against the three massive bouquets - Nick had arranged for all of them to be delivered straight to her room in that morning.

"I just... I don’t know, Chris." She murmured, voice barely above a whisper. "I know I’ve done this before, but what if I don’t win anything? What if I disappoint everyone?"

Before she could spiral any further, Chris was already moving. His hands slid from her hips to her stomach, wrapping around her in a slow embrace. He pulled her against him, his chest firm against her back, the heat of his body seeping through the thin fabric of her robe.

"Hey." He whispered, lips brushing against the shell of her ear. "Don’t do that."

His voice was gentle but firm, a quiet command that sent a shiver down her spine. She felt his breath against her neck, warm and familiar, grounding her.

"First of all." He continued, his arms tightening around her middle. "You’re the best singer out of everyone in that room tonight. You know that, right?"

Her eyes rolled.

"Baby, you can't say that when Billie Eilish, Taylor Swift-" She started, turning her head slightly, but he was already shaking his head.

"Nope." He cut in, resting his chin in the curve of her neck, his gaze locking onto hers through the mirror. "I said what I said. And for the record." He added, voice lower now, dripping with conviction. "You’re already the winner of everything in my book. Even the categories you’re not nominated in."

She sighed, heart pounding as his hands splayed across her stomach, his thumbs brushing slow, absentminded circles.

"Best Album? Yours." He murmured, letting his lips ghost over her jaw. "Best Song? Yours." His mouth traveled down to her shoulder, barely pressing against her skin, yet setting every nerve ending alight. "Best Human Being to Ever Exist?" He turned his head just enough to meet her eyes in the mirror again, his smirk soft but teasing. "You, obviously."

She let out a small, shaky laugh.

"Chris-"

"I’m serious." He interrupted, turning his head and nuzzling the soft skin of her temple, inhaling the rich scent of her Givenchy perfume. "Your fans love you. I love you. And, babe, let’s be honest, you could drop a single of you just breathing into a mic, and it would still go platinum."

That made her laugh, her eyes rolling with amusement.

"You’re gonna do your best tonight, like you always do. And no matter what happens, I’ll be right there with you."

She finally turned in his hold, her arms looping around his neck and her red tinted lips forming a small pout.

"Even if I trip on the carpet?"

"I’ll trip with you. We’ll make it a trend." Chris grinned, pressing a lingering kiss to the tip of her nose, being excessively careful not to smudge her perfect makeup. "Now, I think there's a worldwide famous singer who should be getting dressed, huh?"

Y/N's eyes stared into blue ones for a moment, smiling with the softness she found in them.

"Yeah... Yeah, you're right."

A sharp knock at the door broke their haze, followed by a loud voice.

"Y/N!"

The voice was unmistakable, high-pitched and full of dramatic flair, and before Y/N could even turn, Harry Lambert had burst into the room, arms spread wide, eyes scanning her from head to toe with theatrical disbelief.

"Oh. My. GOD." He practically floated toward her, his hands fluttering in the air like he was physically trying to grasp the vision before him. "Darling, how dare you stand there looking this stunning before even getting into your dress?"

Y/N barely had time to react before he pulled her into a tight hug, arms wrapped around her like he hadn’t seen her in years - even though they had spoken just yesterday. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, holding her there for a beat longer than necessary, his touch radiating warmth and love.

"My baby girl." He cooed, pulling back slightly to cup her face. "How are we feeling? Nervous? Excited? On the verge of a breakdown?"

"All of the above." Y/N admitted, letting out a breathy laugh as he studied her with fondness.

Harry clicked his tongue.

"Well, you shouldn’t be, because you’re about to own this night. And if anyone so much as dares to breathe in your direction the wrong way, I will be throwing hands."

Chris chuckled from behind them.

"Good to see you, Harry."

"Christopher!" Harry turned to him with a dazzling smile, patting his chest in greeting before narrowing his eyes playfully. "The suit I chose for you was a very good choice, huh? Gucci looks good on you. Now, let’s be clear, your only job tonight is to stand there, look pretty, and worship Y/N like the goddess she is. Do you understand me?"

Chris raised his hands in surrender.

"Oh, trust me, I’ve been doing that since the second I met her."

Y/N felt her cheeks warm as Harry clapped his hands together.

"That’s my boy. Now, enough chit-chat! It is officially time to get my queen into the dress."

The entire room seemed to shift as the energy buzzed with anticipation. Y/N was ushered toward the dressing area, where the Gucci gown had been carefully laid out, glowing under the soft lights. Even without being worn, it commanded attention - the gold fabric shimmering as if infused with actual stardust, the dramatic ruffles sculpted to perfection.

As they helped her into it, every detail came to life. The strapless silhouette hugged her body in all the right places, the embedded crystals catching every flicker of light. The metallic sleeves, voluminous and artful, cascaded around her arms, while the matching ruffles at the bottom framed her steps with effortless grace.

When the final adjustments were made, Harry stepped back, his hands pressed to his chest as if he might faint.

"Oh, sweet heavens above." He whispered, looking genuinely overwhelmed. "I’ve outdone myself. We’ve outdone ourselves."

Chris, who had been sitting on the bed answering his brothers texts, looked up with Harry's voice, suddenly straightening up. His hands dropped to his lap, and his mouth hung open slightly, completely speechless.

"Wow." His voice came out strangled, like he had just been personally attacked.

Y/N turned toward him fully, the movement making the crystals on her dress shimmer, the light practically bending to her will. Chris visibly short-circuited.

"Are you- what- how-" He inhaled sharply, shaking his head as if trying to reboot his brain. "Nah. Nah. This isn’t fair. This should be illegal."

Y/N bit her lip, fighting a smile, but his reaction only got worse. His fingers threaded into his hair, his eyes raking over her from head to toe with pure, unfiltered obsession.

"Jesus fuck." He breathed out, voice a little rough. "You’re gonna kill me tonight, doll."

Harry smirked, tilting his head as he admired her.

"Oh, she’s not just going to kill you, Christopher. She’s going to kill everyone at the Grammys tonight. And I, for one, cannot wait to watch it happen."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The energy outside the venue was electric. Even from inside the tinted Range Rover, the deafening sound of flashing cameras and screaming paparazzi was unavoidable. Y/N shifted in her seat, inhaling slowly, feeling the vibration of the excitement just beyond the doors.

A hand suddenly slid over her thighs, warm and grounding, caressing the fabric of her dress.

"Ready?" Chris asked, his voice softer than the chaos outside.

Y/N turned to him, wetting her matte lipstick lips.

"Yeah." She breathed, even though her heart was hammering.

Chris smirked knowingly.

"Liar."

Before she could argue, the car door swung open, and an immediate wave of screams hit them like a storm.

Chris stepped out first, adjusting his suit as flashes exploded around him, the sound of his name already being yelled from every direction. He quickly moved around to face the inside of the car, offering his hand.

The second Y/N emerged, the chaos tripled.

"Y/N! Y/N! Over here!"

"Y/N! Christopher! Are you two official?"

"Y/N, do you think you’ll win tonight?"

Y/N barely flinched at the shouting - it was part of the job. Instead, she kept her chin high, gripping Chris’s hand as they made their way down the carpet. The venue was bathed in red and gold hues, a massive step-and-repeat wall covered in Grammy logos standing proudly ahead. The air buzzed with anticipation, celebrities lining the edges of the carpet, all waiting for their moment in front of the cameras.

A staff member approached, guiding them toward a designated spot.

"You first, Ms. Y/N." The woman instructed.

Chris gave Y/N a gentle squeeze before stepping aside, allowing her to take center stage.

And damn, did she own it.

The second she posed, the already flashing cameras seemed to explode.

The fitted, gold gown clung to her frame like liquid metal, sparkling under the lights. The voluminous, ruffled sleeves caught the air as she shifted her stance, making her look like some sort of celestial being - untouchable, ethereal. She turned her head smoothly, flashing a radiant smile as the photographers shouted for her attention.

Chris, standing just a few feet away, was not handling it well. His eyes never left her, completely entranced, like he was seeing her for the first time again, not even noticing the flashs directed to his figure.

Y/N, catching his expression, couldn’t help but smile shyly. She subtly tilted her head toward him between poses, raising a teasing brow.

Chris just shook his head, still gawking, before muttering under his breath.

"Jesus Christ."

The staff member signaled for Chris to approach Y/N for their couple photos. Y/N turned toward him, making a playful shooing motion with her hands as if to snap him out of his trance.

"Earth to Chris." She teased.

Chris didn’t respond - not verbally, at least. Instead, he stepped closer with large steps and grabbed her by the waist, carefully pulling her flush against him, careful with her heels but firm enough to steal a delighted gasp from her. The moment their bodies pressed together, the screams from the crowd outside the barricades and the clicking of cameras reached a new level of hysteria.

The cameras loved them.

Chris leaned in between shots, his lips brushing her ear.

"You think they got food inside?"

Y/N barely bit back a laugh, keeping her expression poised as she continued smiling for the cameras.

"What, you mean like caviar and tiny-ass lobster rolls?"

"I don’t care if it’s a plate of lettuce. I need to eat something before I pass out."

Y/N snorted softly with how dramatic he could be, bumping her hips against his just slightly, careful not to disrupt the pictures.

"You ate almost all of those chocolates back in the hotel. Where does it even go?"

Chris grinned, his fingers squeezing at her waist, effectively freezing her in place.

"Wouldn’t you like to know?"

She rolled her eyes, suppressing a giggle.

"Be serious, Sturniolo."

"I am serious." He looked at her then, really looked at her, and it sent something warm and electric curling down her spine. "You are so fucking beautiful, it’s actually stupid."

Y/N faltered for half a second, her breath catching, not from the flashing lights, not from the cameras, but from him.

Chris chuckled, clearly pleased her reaction.

"Want to give y'a post-celebration present so bad." His voice switched to low and airy, almost lost beneath the noise, but she heard it perfectly.

Y/N swallowed, her mind jumping to conclusions she probably shouldn’t be having on the Grammys red carpet.

"Hm, and what would that be?"

Chris smirked, his fingers flexing at her waist.

"Eat y’out."

Y/N kept her composure like a pro, smiling for the cameras with a practiced grin, but discreetly pressed her thighs together. Two could play this game.

But before she could fire back, a voice interrupted.

"Alright, guys! We need to move to the next area!"

Another event staff member gestured for them to proceed toward the interview section, their tone polite but firm. Y/N exhaled slowly, her heart thudding inside her ears.

Chris sighed dramatically, his grip on her waist tightening for just a second before he let go, traveling up to her hand.

"And here I was, thinking we could just stay here all night."

Y/N squeezed his fingers, tugging him forward.

"Come on, you menace."

As they walked toward the interview zone, the setup became clearer - a sleek, well-lit platform lined with various media outlets, each interviewer eagerly awaiting their next celebrity guest. But before Y/N could even register who was up next, a familiar voice rang out, unmistakably enthusiastic.

"Y/N, oh my God! Get over here!"

Emma Chamberlain.

Y/N's face lit up immediately, and without hesitation, she pulled Chris along, their hands still intertwined as they made a beeline toward Emma. The internet personality-turned-Grammys correspondent was practically bouncing on her heels, her eyes wide with excitement.

As soon as they reached her, Emma lifted her microphone with dramatic flair.

"Ladies and gentlemen, five-time Grammy-nominated Y/N L/N, everyone!"

Y/N laughed, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"No way you just said that like an awards show host."

Emma grinned.

"I am an awards show host." Then, turning to Chris, she playfully narrowed her eyes. "And, of course, let’s not forget the man of the hour, Chris Sturniolo!"

Chris chuckled, giving a small wave, the silver ring on his index finger glinting against the camera flash.

"That’s me."

Emma wasted no time diving into questions, her energy infectious.

"Okay, first things first, how are you feeling?" She pointed the mic toward Y/N.

Y/N exhaled, a bright smile still gracing her lips.

"Honestly? I’m just... I don’t even know how to put it into words. Happy? Grateful? In shock? All of it at once?" She shook her head in disbelief. "I mean, the Grammys. It’s something you dream about as a kid, you know? And now, five nominations? I feel like I need someone to pinch me."

Chris gently squeezed her hand, leaning in slightly so his mouth was close to the mic, his cheek brushing hers in the process.

"Not gonna lie, I did pinch her earlier to check."

Y/N playfully swatted at him, making Emma laugh.

"Alright, but tell me everything. What were you doing when you found out you were nominated?"

At this, Y/N turned to Chris, already laughing.

"Oh my God, it was chaos."

Chris grinned, nodding while brushing his messy hair back.

"Totally."

Y/N faced Emma again, still giggling.

"Okay, so we were just in the living room, me, Chris, Matt, and Nick. It was so casual, literally just us eating burgers, watching the nominations roll in on TV, not thinking much of it."

Emma’s eyes widened.

"Wait, so you weren’t even refreshing Twitter like a maniac?"

"No!" Y/N shook her head. "I swear, I wasn’t even expecting anything. And then, boom. My name gets called for the first nomination, and I just screamed."

"Nick screamed, too." Chris jumped in, laughing.

Emma gasped.

"Nick would."

Y/N nodded rapidly.

"He did! So then, Chris kisses me, Matt’s literally jumping up and down, and it was just full-on mayhem. But then, like, a minute later, my name gets called again for another nomination."

Chris smirked, nodding his head.

"And again. And again."

Emma covered her mouth, delighted.

"So by the fifth time-"

"I was crying." Y/N admitted, grinning. "Like, full-on sobbing in Chris’s arms."

Emma dramatically put her free hand against her heart.

"This is what I live for." Then, turning to Chris, she grinned mischievously. "Alright, your turn, Sturniolo."

Chris blinked, looking at Y/N before going back to Emma.

"Me?"

Emma nodded, dead serious.

"Yes, you. Because I know you, you act all cool and chill, but I know you were losing your mind when she got nominated."

Chris laughed, shaking his head.

"I mean, yeah, obviously. I was going crazy. But I think it really hit me when I looked at her during the last nomination and realized, this is actually happening. Like, she’s that talented. The world is seeing what I already knew."

Y/N felt her face heat up, a mix of emotions swirling in her chest.

Emma pouted.

"Chris, that's so wholesome. You’re really that boyfriend, huh?"

Chris shrugged, squeezing Y/N’s hand.

"I mean, yeah. Have you met her?"

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully, but her smile didn’t fade.

"I know, right?" Emma nodded at Chris's direction, laughing with Y/N's reaction. "Now, tell me, which nomination are you most excited about?"

Y/N didn’t even hesitate.

"Song of the Year."

Emma’s brows lifted.

"Because...?"

Y/N took a breath, her fingers unconsciously tightening around Chris’s hand.

"Because the song nominated for that category is Lavender Haze, and that song... it just means so much to me." She glanced at Chris, her expression softer now.

Emma’s eyes darted between the two of them, her curiosity sparking instantly. She glanced at Y/N, then at Chris, before turning toward the camera with exaggerated wide eyes.

"Ohhh, I know that look." She teased, pointing between them with a knowing grin. "Okay, spill, tell me about the song."

Y/N let out a breathy laugh with how eager she sounded, meeting Emma’s gaze again.

"You'll know all about it if I win." She winked, her tone warm.

Chris was quick to approach the microphone again.

"Not if, when."

Emma tilted her head, frowning as a pout grew on her lips.

"No way you're going to leave me with this curiosity." She sighed dramatically. "I guess I'll need to watch the awards with double attention." Emma winked to the camera. "Okay, I’m obsessed with you guys. This is too cute. But I won’t keep you any longer, go enjoy your night! And, Y/N, fingers crossed for all five wins!"

Y/N beamed, giving Emma one last hug before she and Chris were guided to the next section of the event. As they walked, the lights of the Grammys venue shining ahead, Chris leaned in close, his lips brushing her ear.

"You’re killing it, doll."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The moment Y/N and Chris stepped into the grand main salon, the shift in the atmosphere was almost physical. The flashing lights of the red carpet were behind them, replaced by the elegant glow of chandeliers and the soft hum of conversation. Celebrities, industry giants, and music legends filled the expansive room, dressed in their finest, the air buzzing with anticipation.

A staff member immediately approached them with a warm smile, gesturing toward their assigned table.

"Good evening, Ms. L/N, Mr. Sturniolo. Right this way, please."

As they walked through the lavishly decorated space, Y/N’s fingers instinctively tightened around Chris’s hand, her nerves still tingling with the knowledge that the biggest names were around her.

Halfway to their table, a familiar voice called out from the side.

"Chris! No way- dude!"

Chris turned toward the sound, a grin instantly spreading across his face when he saw Troye Sivan standing up from his table, waving him over.

Troye had met Chris and his brothers just two weeks ago at a Prada fashion show, and the energy between them had been instantly chill and friendly.

"Troye, hey, what’s up, man?" Chris greeted as he pulled him in for a quick hug.

Meanwhile, Y/N turned toward Sabrina Carpenter, who was seated beside Troye in the most ethereal baby blue dress, its delicate fabric flowing like water over her frame.

"Sabrina, hi!" Y/N greeted, her voice lighting up as she fully took in the details of her look. "Wow, you look absolutely stunning. Like, actually unreal."

Sabrina’s eyes widened for a split second, surprise flashing across her face before it melted into the sweetest, most genuine smile. Without a second thought, she pushed herself up from her seat, reaching for Y/N as if they were lifelong friends and pulling her into a warm, affectionate hug. She squeezed tightly, her energy radiating pure kindness.

"Oh my god, stop." Sabrina gushed, pulling back just enough to look at Y/N, her hands still resting gently on her arms. "That means the world coming from you. And please, look at you!" She emphasized, eyes scanning Y/N from head to toe with genuine admiration. "You look like an actual goddess."

Y/N laughed softly, shaking her head as she absentmindedly smoothed her hands over the golden fabric of her dress.

"It’s all Lambert’s magic." She admitted with a playful grin, referring to her trusted stylist. Then, with a spark of excitement, she added. "I heard you’re performing tonight, I cannot wait to see it!"

Sabrina practically bounced in place, her excitement just as contagious.

"Oh, that makes me so nervous but also so happy." She admitted with a laugh, her hands clasping together. "I just hope I don’t trip or something."

Y/N shook her head instantly.

"No way, you’re going to kill it. I already know it."

Chris and Troye exchanged a few more words, something about how amazing the Prada show had been and how they should schedule to do something together in the future, before Chris gave him a casual pat on the shoulder.

"We’ll catch up later, yeah? We gotta find our table before they go live."

Troye grinned.

"For sure. Enjoy the night, guys."

After one last big smile at Sabrina, Y/N slipped her hand back into Chris’s as they navigated through the room.

Their table was positioned with a perfect view of the stage, the paper cards on their seats spelling out their names in black ink below a selected picture of their faces.

As they sat down, Y/N exhaled, glancing up at the stage. A quick glance at the massive countdown screen told her they had ten minutes before the live broadcast began.

"Damn." She muttered, leaning toward Chris. "Didn’t even realize how much time passed outside."

Chris chuckled, his voice low.

"That’s ‘cause you were too busy looking hot and stealing everyone’s attention."

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the amused smile that tugged at her lips.

"Come'ere, babe." He asked, extending his arm in her direction, asking silently for her to move closer.

Her eyes sparkled with affection, and she shifted her chair slightly, moving closer to Chris until she was practically pressed against his side. Without hesitation, he wrapped his extended arm around her upper body, pulling her in securely. The warmth of his body mixed with the familiarity of his presence was grounding and comforting.

Chris pressed a soft kiss to her temple, his lips lingering for just a second longer than necessary.

Y/N tilted her head up to look at him, her eyes shining under the dimmed chandeliers.

"Thank you." She whispered, her voice barely audible over the hum of the room.

Chris furrowed his brows slightly, looking down at her, their faces so close he could feel her warm breath hitting his chin.

"For what?"

"For being here with me. For always being here for me."

His gaze softened immediately, and the way he looked at her - so full of quiet devotion - made her heart swell.

"Forever, baby." He murmured, squeezing her gently.

Before Y/N could say anything else, a new voice cut into their moment.

"Excuse me, I hope I’m not interrupting anything."

The voice was warm, familiar, and utterly unmistakable.

Both Y/N and Chris turned toward the sound, and in an instant, Y/N felt the entire world freeze. Her breath caught in her throat, her heart stuttered, and for a brief, terrifying moment, she wondered if she had actually left her body.

Because standing there, just a few feet away, in all her effortless, golden-lit, legendary glory, was Taylor Swift.

Taylor Swift.

Y/N swore she could hear the heavens parting and angels singing in the background.

Taylor was an absolute vision in a stunning, strong red mini dress, her signature red lip effortlessly bold, her blonde hair framing her face in soft waves.

And she was smiling - smiling - at her.

"Oh my god." Y/N blurted out, the words tumbling out of her mouth before she could even attempt to reel them back in.

Taylor let out a soft laugh as she shook her head lightly, eyes twinkling.

"I just wanted to say that I’m such a huge fan of your work. Lavender Haze is absolutely everything."

Y/N felt her soul leave her body.

Her brain quite literally short-circuited. Because- because what?

Taylor Swift, the Taylor Swift, her biggest inspiration, her songwriting idol, just complimented her music?

There was a very real possibility that she had just blacked out.

Chris shifted slightly beside her, maintaining his arm above the back of her chair, obviously trying so hard not to burst out laughing at how starstruck she looked.

Somehow, somehow, Y/N managed to keep her expression together, even though her heart was doing full-blown Olympic-level gymnastics in her chest.

"That means everything coming from you." She breathed, every word laced with pure, raw sincerity. "Thank you so, so much."

Taylor’s smile only widened, like she could feel how much those words meant to Y/N.

"Seriously." She said, her voice warm and genuine. "I’ve been listening to it on repeat. You’re insanely talented. The way you crafted that song... you have such a gift."

Y/N felt an actual tear prick at the corner of her eye. She wanted to scream. She wanted to hug her. She wanted to tattoo this moment onto her soul and never forget it.

And then, as if she couldn’t possibly adore her any more, Taylor turned to Chris, offering him the same bright, kind smile.

"And of course, you." She said, her tone playful but just as sincere. "I love what you and your brothers are doing on YouTube. It’s always fun seeing people bring fresh energy to the space."

Chris looked genuinely taken aback for a moment. His eyebrows lifted slightly, and for the first time, Y/N saw a flicker of oh wow, this is real life in his expression.

"That’s- wow, okay, that’s crazy." He said, running a hand through his hair with an incredulous chuckle. "Thank you, that’s- man, that’s insane coming from you."

Taylor grinned, her hand gently squeezing Y/N’s shoulder, grounding her back to reality.

"I won’t keep you guys." She said softly. "I just wanted to say that. Hope you both have the best night."

And just like that, she turned, walking back toward her table.

For a long, stunned second, Y/N just stood there, processing what had just happened. Then, with wide eyes, she turned to Chris, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Did that just happen?"

Chris, still looking way too amused, nodded, his grin stretching across his face.

"Yup." He confirmed. "And you just casually had a conversation with Taylor Swift like it was nothing."

Y/N let out a sharp exhale, pressing her hands over her face.

"I need a second."

Chris laughed, and before she could even register it, he was wrapping both arms around her, pulling her in tightly, his face pressing against her hair.

"Proud of you, popstar." He murmured, his voice laced with nothing but warmth.

Before she could respond, the lights dimmed, and the energy in the room shifted as a voice echoed through the speakers.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome your host for the 67th Annual Grammy Awards, Trevor Noah!"

A roar of cheers erupted as the towering LED screens flanking the stage flickered to life, displaying Trevor Noah’s wide, mischievous grin. He strolled onto the main floor rather than standing on the stage, seamlessly blending into the sea of round tables where the biggest names in the industry were seated.

He adjusted the microphone in his hand, letting the applause die down just enough before flashing a knowing smirk.

"Alright, ladies and gentlemen." He began, his smooth voice carrying through the arena. "This is it, the 67th Grammys! Music’s biggest night! The Super Bowl for people who cried to Folklore, danced to Beyoncé, and worked out to Travis Scott, all in the same day!"

Laughter rippled through the crowd as the camera panned to a few artists nodding dramatically in agreement.

"And listen, let’s be honest. The Grammys are basically just a really fancy dinner party where we all pretend we haven’t been stalking the winners list since yesterday." Another wave of laughter followed. "But tonight... tonight, we are celebrating the best of the best in music. The songs that made us scream in our cars, the albums that made us question our entire existence, and the artists who consistently ruin our Spotify Wrapped every year."

Trevor began walking casually between the round tables, grinning as he looked around at the audience.

"And let’s not forget the real stars of the night, the seating arrangements. Have you seen these tables? It’s like the ultimate Hunger Games. You got legends, you got rookies, and you got the poor artists who are just hoping they don’t get caught in an awkward cutaway during a joke."

The camera zoomed in on a few newer artists laughing nervously, earning a chuckle from the crowd.

Trevor continued weaving his way through the tables, his eyes scanning the sea of music’s biggest names.

"And speaking of icons." He said, stopping by a particular table. "Tonight, we have the one and only Y/N L/N with us!"

The moment her name left his lips, the entire arena erupted into cheers. The camera cut to Y/N’s table, her face instantly lighting up with a radiant smile. Chris grinned smugly as he watched her soak in the moment.

Y/N turned slightly to face the camera that was now focused on her, offering a soft wave. The massive screen above the stage displayed a live feed of her, the applause continuing as Trevor beamed.

"Now, listen, if you somehow missed it, Y/N is up for five nominations tonight!" Trevor announced, pointing at her with mock emphasis. "Five nominations, guys. For songs and the album she announced when she won last year. That’s how much of a legend she is."

Y/N let out a soft laugh, her cheeks warming as she watched herself on the big screen. The camera panned slightly to Chris, who was nodding with a smug expression, as if silently agreeing with every word Trevor was saying.

"Plus." Trevor continued, stepping closer to their table. "If Y/N wins tonight, she could be the first artist ever to win Album of the Year five times."

Gasps and cheers rippled through the audience, while Y/N’s smile grew impossibly wider.

"Which means, she would break the record of four wins set all the way back in 2024 by-" Trevor raised his free hand, making a show of pretending to check an invisible list on his palm. "Y/N L/N!"

The entire room erupted into even louder applause, whistles echoing through the space as Trevor dramatically motioned toward her again.

Y/N's eyebrows flew up, feigning surprise, trying to contain her giddiness while Chris chuckled beside her, mouthing 'that's my girl' to a camera pointing his way.

Trevor placed a hand on his hip, looking toward the camera with mock exasperation.

"So basically, Y/N is out here breaking her own records. Just casually deciding that four wins aren’t enough and going for five. That’s like running a marathon, winning, and then saying, 'You know what? Let’s do it again, backwards'."

More laughter filled the room, Y/N pressing a hand over her mouth to keep from giggling too much. Trevor grinned, looking at her one last time.

"Listen, Y/N, whatever happens tonight, you’re already a legend. But if you win that fifth Grammy, just promise me you won’t announce another album mid-acceptance speech. Give the rest of the industry a fighting chance, okay?"

Y/N laughed, shaking her head, and Chris patted her thigh under the table, looking thoroughly entertained.

Trevor winked before turning back to the audience, raising his mic once again.

"Alright, let’s get this incredible night started! We’ve got performances, surprises, and probably a few moments that’ll break the internet. Let’s do this!"

The crowd roared as the cameras pulled away, cutting to a sleek transition video, signaling the official start of the show. Y/N exhaled, stealing a glance at Chris, who simply grinned and pulled her back to his chest, pressing his lips against her cheek.

"You’re so winning tonight."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The moment the last notes of Birds of a Feather echoed through the grand hall, Y/N felt like she was floating. Billie Eilish had just delivered one of the most breathtaking performances she had ever seen, and she could still feel the goosebumps lingering on her arms.

She turned to Chris, her eyes shining with excitement, her heart still beating to the rhythm of the song.

"Billie is unreal." She gushed, shaking her head in disbelief. "Like, every time she performs, it’s like she’s singing straight to my soul."

Chris let out a chuckle, his arm draped lazily around her shoulders, pulling her close.

"Nick would actually kill to be here right now." His lips quirked up in amusement. "I bet he’s texting us like a mad man."

Y/N laughed softly, already imagining Nick’s all-caps messages blowing up their group chat. But before she could even think of checking, the stage lights dimmed slightly, and the screens around the venue shifted. A familiar melody played in the background as a figure gracefully stepped onto the stage. The chatter in the audience softened as people turned their attention to her.

Taylor Swift.

Y/N straightened in her seat, her heart picking up speed.

Chris immediately caught the change in her posture and smirked.

"Oh shit." He teased, giving her shoulder a little squeeze. "Your idol is speaking. Do you need me to hold you so you don’t pass out?"

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t deny the excitement bubbling in her chest.

Taylor approached the microphone with that effortless charm that made the entire room fall silent. She smiled warmly, tucking a strand of golden hair behind her ear before speaking.

"Good evening, everyone." She greeted, her voice carrying easily through the venue. "Tonight has been incredible so far, and I am so honored to be here presenting this next award."

Y/N opened a genuine smile, squeezing Chris's thigh below her fingers.

"Album of the Year is such a special award because it represents not just music, but stories. It’s about the albums that stayed with us, that shaped our emotions, our memories. The ones that became the soundtrack to our lives." Taylor continued, her expression softening as she held up the envelope. "And with that being said, the Grammy goes to..."

She slid her fingers under the flap and carefully pulled out the card, unfolding it with precision.

Y/N could feel Chris’s arms tighten around her. His body heat a cocoon around her own as she clutched onto him, her pulse thundering in her temple.

A second of silence stretched. Then Taylor’s eyes scanned the paper, and the biggest, brightest smile took over her face. Her gaze lifted, seemingly searching the crowd for someone.

Y/N furrowed her brows slightly.

Taylor found her.

And then, with a warmth that sent shivers down Y/N’s spine, Taylor announced.

"Y/N L/N, Midnights."

The world tilted.

For a solid moment, Y/N didn’t move. She couldn’t move. The air in her lungs disappeared, her vision blurred instantly with unshed tears, and her mouth fell open in pure, unfiltered shock, her hands hovering near her mouth, trembling as realization crashed into her like a tidal wave.

Album of the Year.

She won.

Chris, on the other hand, reacted immediately.

"YES!" He shouted, his voice cutting through the noise as he punched the air, his excitement completely unfiltered. People turned, smiling, laughing, but Chris didn’t care. His hands were already on Y/N, his eyes scanning her face.

She wasn’t breathing.

"Babe." His voice softened instantly as he leaned in, his forehead almost touching hers. "Hey, you did it."

Y/N sucked in a sharp, shaky breath, but it wasn’t enough. Tears welled in her eyes, spilling over before she could stop them, her body shaking with the force of emotions she had no chance of containing.

A broken sob escaped her lips.

Chris pulled her in before she could crumple, wrapping her up in the kind of hug that blocked everything else out. His arms were warm, steady, his lips pressing against her forehead as he whispered, his voice firm this time.

"You did it."

Y/N let out a wet laugh against his shoulder, her fingers clutching onto him for just a second longer before she finally let go.

He gently lowered his head, making sure she looked at him.

And God, the way he was looking at her.

Like she had just built the entire universe with her bare hands.

"Go get your Grammy, winner." He murmured, the words slow and soft and filled with everything.

Y/N let out another broken breath, nodding before finally, finally turning toward the stage.

The journey to the top felt surreal, like she was floating. The cheers, the applause, the faces she recognized - people she had idolized - they all blurred together.

And then suddenly, she was there.

Standing at the top.

Face to face with Taylor Swift.

Who was smiling at her, waiting for her, Grammy in hand.

Y/N’s breath hitched all over again.

Her hands, still unsteady, reached out, fingers closing around the golden gramophone. The weight of it sent a whole new wave of emotions crashing into her.

Before she could even process what was happening, Taylor pulled her into a hug - tight, warm, real.

"Congratulations." Taylor whispered against her ear, and god, if that wasn’t the most surreal moment of Y/N’s entire life. "You deserve this so much."

A choked noise left Y/N’s lips as she nodded weakly, her throat too tight to speak.

She deserved this.

Her fingers traced over the Grammy, like she needed physical proof that it was real before she finally turned to the microphone.

She inhaled deeply. Opened her mouth.

"I-I don’t even know what to say right now." She admitted, biting her bottom lip. "I’m- god, I’m just so honored."

The crowd cooed, and Y/N let out a breathless laugh of her own, shaking her head as more tears slipped down her cheeks.

"This is insane." She said, shaking her head slightly. "Being nominated in this category, alongside so many incredible artists, artists I’ve admired for years, was already more than I could’ve ever dreamed of. To even stand beside you all tonight, to celebrate music with you? That was already everything."

Her chest rose and fell as she blinked away the heat gathering behind her eyes, sweeping her gaze across the crowd.

"I have to thank my incredible producer, my team, every single person who helped bring this album to life." Her voice wavered, thick with emotion. "You guys took my wild, messy ideas and turned them into something real, something that I never could have done alone. And I will never stop being grateful."

She wet her lips, inhaling deeply before her smile stretched just a little wider.

"My fans..." Her voice caught slightly, her hand pressing over her heart. "You guys have given me everything. You’ve let me tell my stories, and you’ve listened over and over and over again. You’ve made this dream of mine possible, and I love you more than I can ever put into words."

The cheers swelled again, voices from every corner of the room shouting her name. Her grip on the Grammy tightened as she shifted her weight slightly.

"To my family, Matt and Nick, my biggest cheerleaders." She laughed softly, looking at the main camera pointing at her. "I love you guys, you already know that."

And then, as if the moment had been waiting for this, her gaze lifted to him. Her breath hitched, lips curling into a smile that was just for him.

"And lastly." She said, her voice softer now. "To my boyfriend, Chris."

A ripple of excitement spread through the audience, but Y/N didn’t hear it. Not when those impossibly blue eyes were locked onto hers, not when his expression softened with something so tender, so proud, it made her knees weak.

"Thank you for being the creative genius that you are." She said, eyes never leaving his. "For staying up with me in the studio when I couldn’t figure out the right melody, even when I was on hour ten of tweaking the same one."

Laughter rolled through the room, and Chris grinned, shaking his head.

"For never doubting me." She continued, her throat tightening. "Even when I doubted myself. For being my biggest supporter. My muse. Every song, every lyric... You are in all of them.”

Chris exhaled sharply, his jaw tensing, his hand pressing over his heart as if feeling her love for him.

"Thank you." She finished simply, her voice steady, full of everything she couldn’t quite put into words.

The applause was deafening. A roar of cheers, of love, of celebration.

But all Y/N could hear was the thundering of her own heart.

This was real.

She had just won Album of the Year for the fifth time in a row.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The massive screens on either side of the stage illuminated with Trevor Noah’s face again as he took the microphone, now standing above all of them, his signature charm radiating through the room.

"Alright, people." He started, a knowing smirk on his lips. "This is it, one of the most expected award of the night. Song of the Year."

The audience erupted into applause, a tangible wave of excitement washing over the room.

Y/N could barely hear it. Her entire body felt like it was wound up in a coil, so tight that she might snap. Her heart pounded mercilessly against her ribcage as she focused on the only thing grounding her - Chris’s hand wrapped tightly around hers.

She could feel the heat of his palm, the way his fingers curled firmly around hers, almost as if he knew she needed the anchor.

Trevor continued, his voice filling the grand space.

"Now, we all know Song of the Year isn’t just about a hit track. It’s about storytelling. It’s about lyrics that mean something that connects with people, that makes you feel something in your soul."

Y/N squeezed her eyes shut for a second. God, she felt like she was going to throw up.

Chris, meanwhile, kept his eyes locked on the stage, his jaw set, body tense. His grip on her hand tightening, his thumb brushing over the back of her hand once - just once - as if silently telling her, I’ve got you.

Trevor continued listing the nominees, their song snippets playing softly over the speakers, but Y/N’s mind was a blur. The only thing she could feel was her heartbeat hammering violently inside her chest.

She could barely hear Trevor’s next words over the rush of blood in her ears.

"And the Grammy goes to..."

A dramatic pause.

It felt endless. It felt cruel.

Y/N finally lifted her head, eyes darting to the stage.

Trevor’s gaze swept across the room before his smile widened.

"Y/N L/N, Lavender Haze!"

The room erupted. Applause, cheers bouncing off the walls, her own voice echoing from the speakers, but Y/N barely registered any of it.

Her breath hitched, her entire body jerking forward as if her heart had physically pulled her out of her seat. Her hands flew to her face, pressing against her eyes, trying to contain the overwhelming rush of emotions slamming into her all at once.

Oh, god. Oh, god.

Chris was already moving before she could even think. His chair scraped back, his arms were on her in an instant, pulling her up, grounding her before she could float away in all of this.

"Oh my god." The words tumbled out of her, barely a whisper against her palms, her chest rising and falling too quickly to keep up.

Chris didn’t hesitate. His arms wrapped around her tightly, anchoring her, holding her so close she could feel his heartbeat against hers.

"I am so fucking proud of you." His voice was right against her ear, steady, sure. "You are everything, baby."

That was it. That was what made the tears slip free.

But Chris didn’t let her hide.

With infinite tenderness, he pulled her hands away from her face, his thumbs sweeping over her damp cheeks. Then, before she could even catch her breath, he cupped her jaw and kissed her, firm, lingering, so full of love that everything else around them faded into nothing.

The crowd reacted instantly - cheers, whistles, camera flashes exploding in rapid succession - but Y/N only felt him.

When he pulled back, his hand found the small of her back, keeping her close, his face glowing with pride.

"Go get your second Grammy, superstar."

She exhaled shakily, nodding as she turned toward the stage for the second time in that night.

With each step, she forced herself to breathe.

In.

Out.

The massive gold-lettered GRAMMY AWARDS logo towered behind Trevor as he extended the award toward her, his smile warm and genuine.

"Y/N, congratulations." He said, offering a short but meaningful handshake.

Y/N took the Grammy statue with slightly trembling hands, whispering.

"Thank you so much." Before stepping toward the microphone.

As she turned, facing the sea of the world’s most influential artists, the weight of the moment finally settled on her. She was with her second award in her hands.

She barely had time to process it before her gaze instinctively found Chris.

He was standing at their table, hands tucked into his pants pockets, eyes locked onto hers. And when she hesitated, nerves bubbling up again, he gave her the smallest nod.

A simple movement.

But one that made her chest ache in the best way.

Y/N exhaled, adjusting her grip on the award.

"I- uh, I think I blacked out for a second there."

The room laughed, the tension easing instantly.

Y/N smiled, shaking her head.

"I genuinely don’t even know where to start. Again. This... this is insane."

She swallowed, her grip tightening on the Grammy as she steadied herself. The applause had started to fade, giving her space to speak, but her mind was still spinning.

"Lavender Haze is about love." She let the words settle, looking down for a brief moment before lifting her gaze straight to him. "The kind of love that blocks out the noise. The kind that just is, no matter what’s said, no matter what’s assumed. The kind that’s real."

Chris’s expression didn’t change, but she saw it, the slight shift in his jaw, the way his fingers curled against his palm, like he was physically stopping himself from reacting too much. From crumbling, maybe.

"This song wouldn’t exist without that love." Y/N wet her lips, heart hammering. "Without him."

A murmur rippled through the audience. People turned toward Chris, whose head finally dropped for half a second, his tongue running over his bottom lip before he glanced back up at her.

Y/N barely heard the movement. Barely noticed the cameras zooming in on them, barely cared about the entire world watching, because this wasn’t for them.

"This music is for you, Chris." Her voice was softer now, but no less sure. "And about you. And because of you."

Chris inhaled sharply, his chest rising with the movement. He was blinking faster now, his lips parting slightly, his entire body still, like if he moved, even a little, he’d break.

"You have been my safe place in ways I never even thought possible." Y/N continued, her voice thick with emotion. "You have shown me love in a way that makes the rest of the world fade out. And I wrote this because I needed people to hear what that feels like."

A pause.

Chris pressed his knuckles against his mouth, his gaze locked onto her like she had gravity itself wrapped around her fingers.

"So, I don’t need to thank anyone else for this." Y/N said simply, shaking her head. "This is you. This was always you."

The room was silent.

The world was silent.

Then, like a tidal wave, the applause crashed back over the moment, a roar of cheers and shouts as the weight of her words settled over the audience.

Chris didn’t move.

Didn’t clap.

Didn’t even breathe for a second.

He just looked at her with the most bright blue eyes.

She nodded, finally stepping back from the mic, Trevor clapping beside her before escorting her off stage.

And the second she made it back to her table, Chris was there.

Before she could even react, he pulled her against him, lips finding hers in a way that had the cameras flashing wildly, had people cooing, but none of it mattered.

Because for Y/N, all that existed was him.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Five nominations.

Five won awards.

She did it.

She had won five Grammys tonight.

She still couldn’t fully process it.

The air outside the main salon was crisp with the late-night chill, but Y/N barely felt it. The sheer exhaustion in her limbs, the dull ache in her feet from hours in high heels, and the weight - both literal and emotional - of the five golden Grammys in her hands left her in a haze.

Chris walked beside her, just as tired, but his expression was still warm with lingering pride. His free hand held two of her awards, his fingers occasionally brushing against hers as they made their way toward the grey wall - the makeshift backdrop set up just for the winners to take their photos.

Y/N’s sharp eyes were quick to spot something - or rather, someone - familiar.

Cole Walliser. The photographer behind every iconic Glambot moment and best photographs at major award shows.

The moment Cole noticed her, his face lit up in recognition, and he immediately called out.

"Y/N! Oh my god, look at these babies!" He gestured toward her stack of trophies, shaking his head in disbelief. "Get over here. You already know the drill!"

Y/N laughed, already making her way toward him, Chris trailing behind her with a wide smile.

"Oh, I think I remember it."

Cole smirked, playing along.

"Yeah? You sure about that? Feels like I’ve only filmed you a dozen times or so."

"Something like that." She teased before gesturing toward Chris with her head. "Brought a friend this time."

Chris scoffed, giving her the most offended look.

"Friend my ass."

Y/N burst into laughter, nudging him playfully, while Cole chuckled at their dynamic.

"Alright, what’s the game plan? We need to show these off."

Y/N barely had time to respond before Chris was already moving, helping her adjust the awards so she could hold them all without them toppling over.

"Wait, wait, here, give me that one." His voice was soft, concentrated, as he carefully restacked them, his touch both gentle and efficient. "Alright, you good? You got ‘em?"

She let out a breathy laugh, adjusting her grip.

"Yeah, I think so."

Cole grinned, stepping back to gesture toward the marked spot in front of the camera.

"Perfect, then. Right this way, Ms. Sturniolo."

Y/N choked on a laugh, and Chris practically beamed.

"Ms. Sturniolo, huh?" Chris turned to her, eyes shining with excitement, his grip on her lower back tightening slightly as he guided her onto the designated Glambot mark. "I like the sound of it."

Y/N rolled her eyes, but her laughter betrayed how much she loved seeing him so giddy.

"Don’t let it get to your head, Mr. Sturniolo."

Chris grinned.

"Oh, it’s already there."

As Cole called out instructions, Chris stepped back, giving her space, but he didn’t leave. Instead, he lingered off to the side, watching her with the biggest, most heart-wrenchingly proud smile on his face.

Y/N could feel his gaze on her as she smiled to Cole’s moving camera. She tilted her head, posing slightly, but every time she caught Chris’s eyes in the background, her lips twitched into a barely-contained grin.

She couldn’t help it.

This moment was surreal.

She was standing there, arms full of Grammys, while her person stood just a few feet away, looking at her like she had hung the damn stars in the sky.

After a few more clicks, she shifted the weight of the awards in her arms before looking toward Waliser.

"Can we do one with Chris?" She asked, glancing between the camera and Chris himself.

Cole barely hesitated, quickly nodding.

"Oh, absolutely! Christopher, hop in!"

Chris blinked.

"Oh, I mean- I wasn’t-"

"Oh, shut up and get over here." Y/N teased, a playful glint in her tired eyes.

Chris huffed a soft chuckle before stepping forward, standing beside her as she started redistributing the awards.

"Here." She murmured, placing two specific trophies into his hands.

Song of the Year and Album of the Year.

Chris furrowed his brows slightly, glancing down at the awards before looking back at her.

"Doll-"

"These two." She said softly, eyes locking onto his. "I only got because of you."

His throat bobbed as he swallowed, his fingers tightening around the trophies instinctively.

"Y/N-"

"Just hold them with me." She whispered, nudging him gently.

Chris exhaled through his nose, his lips pressing into a thin line before he gave in, nodding as they both turned to face the camera.

Cole then gave play on his camera, but Y/N barely paid attention to it. She could feel Chris's eyes at her again, his expression unreadable, almost like he was too full of emotion to put it into words.

When the last one was taken, Chris nudged her shoulder lightly.

"C’mon, superstar. Let’s get out of here."

She didn’t hesitate.

After exchanging warm goodbyes with Cole, Y/N and Chris started making their way toward the private exit where their Range Rover was waiting.

Y/N’s entire body felt like it was dragging now, the adrenaline wearing off fast. She wanted nothing more than to be curled up at home, in bed, preferably with Chris’s arms around her.

But before they could reach the doors-

"Y/N!"

A reporter suddenly appeared in front of them, stepping way too close for comfort. Y/N barely had time to react before the microphone was practically in her face.

"So, are you guys heading to the after-party?" The woman asked, her tone almost demanding, her smile overly eager. "What are the plans for the rest of the night?"

Y/N blinked, momentarily stunned by how aggressive the approach was.

Chris, on the other hand... His entire expression darkened. His jaw clenched, and his brows furrowed deeply, his grip tightening around the awards as he took a subtle step closer to Y/N, his entire posture radiating protectiveness.

If looks could kill, the woman would’ve been vaporized on the spot.

But before Chris could say anything, Y/N, despite being exhausted, handled it perfectly.

She didn’t flinch. Didn’t react.

Instead, she simply smiled, a polite, but pointed smile.

"I’m heading home, actually." She said smoothly, adjusting the awards in her arms. "To my family." The reporter barely had time to respond before Y/N added. "Thank you so much. Have a great night."

And just like that, she turned, walking away.

Chris blinked. Then, a slow, smug smirk crept onto his lips as he followed her.

Y/N didn’t give the woman another second of her time. She just kept walking, invisibly pulling Chris with her, her arm brushing against his with every step, greeting and thanking each staff member in the way with warm smiles.

Chris let out a low chuckle as they reached the car, expertly balancing both awards in one hand while using the other to pull open the door for her.

"Damn. That was smooth." His voice was warm, laced with amusement.

Y/N smirked at him over her shoulder, eyes twinkling despite the exhaustion sinking in.

"I’m too tired to deal with more people tonight."

Chris snorted, watching as she slid into the leather seat with a sigh of relief.

"Fair enough."

When he finally climbed into the seat beside hers, he shut the door with a groan, leaning his head back for a second before exhaling slowly.

And just like that, the moment they were sealed inside the warm car, blocking the sounds of loud voices and clicks, the exhaustion slammed into them both.

Y/N melted into the headrest, her eyes falling shut as she let out a deep, heavy breath.

"I feel like I ran a marathon."

Chris chuckled under his breath, rolling his shoulders to ease the tension.

"You did. An emotional one."

She hummed in agreement, her breathing slowing as the exhaustion took hold. Chris reached over instinctively, finding her hand in the dim light of the car, fingers slotting between hers with ease.

His thumb brushed over her knuckles, slow and deliberate, grounding her in the quiet.

"M’so proud of you, baby." His voice was soft, almost a whisper, like he didn’t want to disturb the peacefulness settling over them.

Y/N turned her head toward him, eyelids heavy, but her lips curled into the smallest, sleepiest smile.

"Love you."

Chris lifted their joined hands without hesitation, pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckles, lingering there for just a second longer than necessary.

"Love you more."

She let her eyes flicker down, gaze landing on the golden awards sprawled across her lap and the seat beside her. She reached out, fingertips tracing the engravings, still not entirely believing they were hers.

She let out a thoughtful hum. Five more Grammys.

"We’re gonna have to find space for these at home." She murmured, brows knitting together as she looked over at Chris. "I have no idea where we’re putting them."

Chris chuckled, shaking his head.

"Already taken care of."

She raised an eyebrow.

"What?"

"Nick ordered a whole-ass display cabinet for that empty wall across from the kitchen." He admitted, shooting her a knowing look. "Figured we’d need it."

Y/N blinked, her lips parting slightly.

"He-"

"Yeah." Chris smirked. "So, we’ll put these there with the others from the past years..." He paused, his eyes twinkling playfully. "Until there’s no room left, popstar."

Y/N huffed a soft laugh, shaking her head before leaning over to press a quick kiss to his cheek.

"At this rate." She teased, nuzzling his soft skin. "We’ll need a whole new house."

It was no surprise when, in the next TikTok, the boys recorded in their kitchen, the cabinet full of awards served as the background.

1K notes · View notes

sturn-saturn · 8 months ago

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pairing: fem!reader x bf!chris

warnings: mentions of oral sex, swearing

texts with bf chris

2K notes · View notes

cvnntagious · 3 months ago

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and if i said i’d slut pornstar!chris tf out, then what?—for @sturnioz

(my edit : follow cvntagious on tiktok/insta !!)

638 notes · View notes

oopsiedaisydeer · 24 days ago

Text

ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ꜱᴇxʏ ᴇʟʙᴏᴡꜱ

…𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘤𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘴

fluff, humor, excessive amounts of love, playful teasing, cuddling, ridiculous adoration, banter, overwhelming affection, established relationship, sexy elbows

word count - 1k

The room is dim, bathed in the lazy glow of a bedside lamp. You're straddling him, knees sinking into the mattress on either side of his waist, fingers ghosting over his face like you're memorising him. Chris watches you with amusement, his hands resting lightly on your thighs, thumbs tracing absentminded circles over your skin. He smells like fresh laundry and something warm, something distinctly him.

"I love when you talk," you start, voice soft but certain. "Just casually. When you're chill. But I also love when you're happy, or silly, or goofy. Or when you're just really excited about something."

Chris huffs a quiet laugh, tilting his head into your touch like a dog as you cup his jaw. His skin is warm beneath your palms, his stubble just starting to come in. You trail your fingers up, brushing over his brows, his temple, the sharp lines of his cheekbones.

"And I hate when you're sad, or mad, just because. I don't know," you continue, brows pinching slightly. "And you look so cute when you’re thinking hard about something, like you’re trying to solve a puzzle with your eyes. And whenever you're sleepy, I get really happy because I just want to cuddle you whilst you fall asleep… or give you a glass of juice to wake you up."

"You and this juice obsession," he mutters, smiling up at you, but his voice is thick with affection.

You hum, running a thumb over his cheek before grinning. "I love your smile. And your eyebrows. I love your ears. And your eyes, even if they are a bit freaky sometimes."

Chris squints. "Freaky?"

"Scary freaky." You giggle, shifting closer. "I love your cheeks."

"Which ones?"

You swat at his shoulder, trying to stifle a laugh. "Stop! Your cheekbones! I love your nose too," you say, giggling as you trace the bridge of it. "I love your chin. I love your teeth, and your lips, and your gums."

"My gums?"

"Mhm," you confirm, pressing a kiss to his jaw. "I love your jawline, and your neck, and your shoulders. I love your style. How clothes sit on your body, especially long sleeves. I love you in all colours. Your taste in music. I also love your knuckles, and I love kissing ‘em. And your kindness. I love how much love you have to give, and I love how you don't expect anything in return, even though you deserve it."

Chris swallows, eyes softening. His grip on your thighs tightens just slightly, like he needs to feel you closer.

"I love your hands, especially when they're on me, especially my waist, or my hips" you murmur, guiding his fingers there. "I love your arms, especially when they're around me."

He obliges, wrapping them around you in one fluid motion, pulling you just a little bit closer. His chest is broad and steady beneath your palms, rising and falling with quiet laughter as you continue.

"I love your tummy and your man boobs," you say, chuckling before pausing dramatically to tap your chin. "I love your legs and your knees. I love how strong you are. How smart you are. How creative. Passionate. And funny."

Chris quirks a brow. "You just gonna name every single body part?"

"Of course," you scoff. "I love your ankles. I love how much you love all your shoes, even if I think it's stupid. I love your boxers. I love your hoodies, and your hats, especially the baseball dad caps, and the beanies," You pause, gaze dropping to his arms, then further down. "And I love your elbows."

Chris exhales a laugh, shaking his head. "Oh, yeah?"

"Mhm. Wait, did I say that one already? Because I think you have really sexy elbows. I mean it. Look at them, baby."

"Speaking of," you say softly, smoothing a hand over his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. "I love getting to call you that. Baby. Babe. But I also love saying your name. Chris. Christopher." You grin. "Christopher Owen Sturniolo. And you're my boyfriend. I just can't believe it."

He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, fingers lingering at your jaw. "Believe it."

Your breath catches, and for a moment, you're just looking at him, this boy beneath you, who loves you just as much as you love him. Maybe even more.

"I love you," you whisper, and the words keep coming, because you don't think you'll ever run out of ways to say it. "I love you so, so much. I love being yours. I love that you're mine. I love spending time with you. I love kissing you. I love laughing with you. Breathing with you. Touching you." Your hands smooth over his chest, up to cup his jaw. "I love you."

Chris just watches you, gaze unreadable, his hands tightening on your hips.

"I love how much you yap," you continue, voice quieter now, more earnest. "Because I love listening to you speak. But I also just love talking with you. Or just talking at you." You giggle, nose scrunching. "I love your family. I love your dog. I love your friends. I love everything about you."

“You done, baby?”

"Mhm," you murmur, smiling down at him.

Chris exhales like he's winded, eyes flickering over your face. "Good. Coz you're gonna make me cry."

You grin, leaning down to press a kiss to his lips. "Good."

He shakes his head, rolling you onto your back and caging you in beneath him, pressing his face into your neck. You squeal, kicking your feet, but he just squeezes you tighter.

"Sometimes there's so much love in my heart, I think I'll explode," you mumble into his hoodie.

Chris chuckles, lips brushing against your jaw. "It's the elbows, isn't it?"

"Mhm," you hum, barely awake now. "They're really sexy."

Chris shakes his head, smiling against your skin. "You're ridiculous."

"But you love me," you mumble sleepily.

"Yeah," he whispers, pulling you closer. "I do."

creds to rose for the dividers <33 @bernardsbendystraws

a/n: can't let gang know i fw this (sidenote i rlly hope u guys like this ive not been feeling the greatest but i reread some of my fav writers today and this cute fluff idea just kinda spawned in:>)

taglist: @blushsturns @sturnslutz @snoopychris @sturnshood @sturns-mermaid @chrissweetheart @cowboylikenat @sturnsrecordfaves @camzeecorner @sturniolo101 @courta13 @sweetshuga @st7rnioioss comment to be added to my taglist!

till next time !!

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starrysturnz · 1 month ago

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overseas, under you

pairing. chris sturniolo x reader

summary. the boys invite y/n to come along on their winter vacation to hawaii, but problems arise when she finds herself sharing a bedroom with her long time secret crush… and it only has one bed.

warnings. mutual pining between two idiots. smut; a wet dream, some grinding… minor voyuerism in a way. they’re so cute they make me feel so lonely and i literally made them up.

word count. 3.9k

author’s note. one bed trope friends to lovers my beloved <3 a bit cliche but i think i was able to put a unique spin on it! lmk what you guys think :3 this started getting too long so i broke it into two parts!! part two will be released at the beginning of next week. happy valentine’s day to everyone, especially @strnilolover and @darksturnz for helping a girl out with ideas!! kisses!

masterlist | taglist | part two

a sharp beep beep! from her driveway was y/n’s cue to move along. she’d been rushing all morning to finish up her last-minute packing, having left half of the job for the day of, in true procrastinator fashion. a quick sweep through her mental checklist— phone, wallet, keys, passport— and she was scrambling out of the house.

she almost forgot to lock the door behind her when she caught sight of the boy in the driver’s seat, drumming his fingers impatiently against the leather of the steering wheel. chris always managed to take her breath away, as if it were the first time she was seeing his sharp jawline and piercing aquamarine eyes. shaking the thought away, she turned around and stuffed her key into the lock, triple checking that it was secure before shuffling off to throw her luggage in the trunk.

the slam of the driver’s side door fell on deaf ears as the girl hoisted her suitcase into the van, on a mission to be as quick as possible (after all, she was making them late). a light touch on her wrist had y/n jumping out of her skin, almost dropping the second bag onto the icy ground at her feet. her free hand flew to her chest as her head whipped around to find chris there, the feeling of his fingertips burning into the back of the other still gripping the handle.

chris was already smiling when they locked eyes. “i got it, ma.”

“chris,” she breathed, her shoulders dropping. “thank you.”

“’s nothing,” he replied warmly, in a way that had her cheeks heating up in the cold boston air. “go hop up front, a’ight? you’re picking music. but if you choose wrong, i’m giving matt aux privileges.”

⁺⁎˚

the ride to the airport was relatively uneventful. chris was too focused on following the gps to chat with anyone, not willing to miss an exit and add more time to detour. nick and matt were busy discussing the logistics of an upcoming space camp photoshoot in the backseat, leaving y/n to chew anxiously on her nails, her thoughts racing so fast they could lap the van on the highway.

she felt like an intruder. this trip had been a sort of anniversary gift from a brand the triplets had been partnered with for two years— an all-expenses-paid vacation to hawaii. they could’ve invited anyone, and they used their one extra ticket on her.

even though the boys assured her multiple times that their decision was instant and unanimous— “of course we want you there, you’re our best friend,”— y/n still felt guilty, insisting their brother, justin, might be a more logical choice. it was chris who’d spoken first, claiming that if they’d invited justin, they’d have had to find a way to include their parents as well, and then they’d be paying out of pocket.

it sort of made sense, y/n could admit. but maybe a part of her wished that chris wanted her there for another reason. she wished she was his plus one. that they could hold hands on the beach at sunset. that he would wrap her in his towel to keep her warm as the salty air grew colder. that—

“hey. y/n.”

a two-toned whistle had her tumbling off her train of thought, head snapping toward the driver’s seat at the sound of chris’s voice.

“you good? we’re here.”

she cleared her throat. “sorry. i was just….”

she wasn’t even sure the boy had heard her, already pushing his door open to grab their bags from the back. taking a deep breath, y/n followed suit, double checking they hadn’t left anything in the car before heading to the departures entrance.

⁺⁎˚

y/n was an infrequent flyer, to say the least. the few times she had been on a plane, she found herself in the back of the cabin, sandwiched between large men whose legs took up half her space, and unruly children who should’ve been old enough to know not to throw their toys into her lap.

this was something else entirely. a whole private cubical to herself, with a seat that reclined into a bed? no large men, no unruly children? it was a dream, if nothing else. she was thrilled.

but she also wished she wasn’t in first class. which is ridiculous, by the way— no one ever wishes they weren’t in first class, it’s a backwards thought process. and y/n knew that, but she also knew that if they’d just been in comfort plus, she could sit next to chris, chatting and laughing as usual. he would make the twelve hour flight feel like nothing, but instead, it would feel like double the trip in her little isolation pod.

the thought had her kicking herself in guilt. not only was she in first class, but she was there for free. it wasn’t fair of her to be upset about anything.

unbeknownst to the girl, chris caught the crease in her brow, frowning at the idea that something was bothering her. he waited a minute for the people around them to take their seats before crossing the aisle to her seat, knocking gently on the partition to get her attention.

“y’know, for someone going on a tropical vacation, you don’t seem too excited,” he mused. there was a teasing edge to his voice, but just beneath the surface, concern. “what, you worried you forgot to take out the trash before you left and your house’ll be smelly when you get home?”

“well i am now!” y/n groaned. “jesus, chris, why would you even say that?”

chris’s eyes crinkled as he laughed at her expense. “relax, ma, i’m just playin‘. knowing you, i bet you even swept your driveway before leaving. you didn’t forget anything.”

“swept my—?”

“excuse me, sir,” a polite tone sounded from the other aisle on the right side of the plane, “you’ll need to take your seat now. we will be taking off shortly.”

“’s my cue,” said chris, offering her one last reassuring smile. “stop stressing, okay? everything’s gonna be fine.”

⁺⁎˚

everything was not fine.

it was now three hours into the flight, and y/n had made the mistake of falling asleep immediately, missing dinner. she’d needed it, too, since the whole day had been so busy that she’d only managed to grab a couple snacks here and there. a small bag of chips was the only sustenance at her disposal, and the thought of eating another helping of overly-salted junk food made her feel queasy. she supposed she’d have to wait five hours until breakfast was served.

she’d just decided on a movie to try to pass the time when she heard the unmistakable sound of chris’s voice, his chin resting in his palm as he propped himself up on the partition.

“you get your beauty sleep?”

the boy’s hair was mussed— clearly, he’d made himself comfortable in his own seat. his sagging shoulders gave the impression that he was tired, but his shining eyes were wide awake.

“guess so.”

he hummed, his gaze softening just so. “doing okay? it’s gonna be a long flight still. you need anything?”

y/n gave him her best fake smile, not wanting to ask for anything more than she’d already been given. “i’m good, chris, don’t worry.”

mischief crept its way onto his face at her response, and before she could question it, he said, “guess you won’t be needing this, then.” he pulled the packaged meal from behind his back with a dramatic sigh and a look of faux disappointment he could only hold for so long at y/n’s reaction.

a gasp fell from her lips, her stomach growling at the site. “oh, my god, chris, how did you get that?”

“they skipped you at dinner,” he shrugged. “figured you were passed out, so i asked for two. first class comes with perks, apparently.”

“you’re incredible,” she sighed, relief washing over her like warm water when he handed her the container. “thank you. seriously.”

“’course, ma.” chris turned to head back to his seat, but stopped at the sound of her voice.

“wait, chris…," she blurted, maybe a little too quickly, "can you stay?”

when he turned back around, y/n’s demeanor had shifted from relaxed to tense— like she was afraid she might’ve said the wrong thing. her neck was turtling just barely into her shoulders, and she was picking at her fingernails, a longtime nervous habit chris had (unsuccessfully) tried many times to help her break.

it made his heart hurt. “sure, yeah. scooch over a little.”

the seat was suitable for one person, but it was obviously not built for a cuddle session. the pair struggled to find a comfortable position for a few minutes, before settling on chris sitting behind y/n, arms wrapped around her middle as she ate her dinner. she tried to ignore the electric feeling of his thumbs rubbing into her waist through her hoodie— and it had almost made her choke on a mouthful when he’d first started. she wasn’t even sure he was aware he was doing it.

when she’d finished the last of her lukewarm meal, chris set her tray off to the side in favor of pulling her back to lay down with him.

“i know you’re tired, y/n,” he spoke quietly, his breath fanning her temple, flexing his biceps to bring her that much closer to his chest (a move that made her cheeks grow warm). he planted a hand to the back of her head to steady her against his heart. “go to sleep, okay? i’ll wake you up for breakfast. promise.”

y/n only nodded, and prayed he couldn’t feel the intensity of her heartbeat through their clothing.

⁺⁎˚

the hotel was nice. far nicer than any y/n had ever stayed in before. the lobby alone was massive, with advertisements for every amenity a person could ask for— including a spa, which the girl would happily be taking advantage of. the thought alone sent a shiver down her spine.

nick, noticing, asked, “everything okay?”

she nodded. “just excited to finally relax. i’m afraid the first thing i’m going to do is take a long nap.”

“i hear you. matt kept me up all night with his giggling next door.”

“sorry i like comedies,” the middle triplet rolled his eyes, “not my fault you’re such a light sleeper. y’know they had complimentary earplugs, right?”

“i have sensitive ears, matthew.”

“next guest?” called the concierge before matt could respond, and he gave nick a pointed look before stepping up to check them in.

“so, chris,” nick started with a teasing tone, “what happened to you last night?”

“what do you mean, ‘what happened’ to me?” chris said, seemingly annoyed by the conversation already.

“i got up to use the bathroom and when i peeked into your seat, you were gone. care to tell where you were?”

y/n felt the flush make its way to her face, avoiding eye contact with either of the boys. she opened her phone, hoping to appear busy as she listened anxiously.

“dude, why were you peeking, that’s so creepy—”

“don’t sidestep my question, mister,” nick pressed. “you were gone when i came back, too.”

“i was hanging out with y/n, jeez, man. and it’s weird that you were stalking me, like that’s insane.”

“what, how—? i’m your brother! is it insane that i want to know where you are and that you’re safe? what if you were being kidnapped?”

“on a plane? really, nick?”

grateful that the subject had changed, y/n tuned out the rest of their argument, having mastered that skill many years ago. she watched as matt spoke with the kind-looking older fellow at the service desk, who eventually handed him two room keys. matt offered him a smile in return, and waved the rest of the group over to the elevators.

“okay, so,” he began handing them their respective keycards, “me and nick will take 1207. chris and y/n, you get 1204.”

y/n’s head snapped up at that. “i thought i was rooming with nick.”

“originally, yeah,” said matt, “but we had to move the space camp photoshoot to the early morning, remember? and since me and nick will have to wake up at, like, six, we figured we’d just bunk together.”

she paused. y/n did recall the boys mentioning how matt would come along to the photoshoot because nick needed someone he trusted to help oversee the production, since they’d be working with an entirely unfamiliar crew. she didn’t know they’d changed the time, though.

this wasn’t even out of the norm— y/n had slept over at the sturniolo’s many times growing up, often spending the night in the boys’ beds with them. but something about sharing a hotel room with chris, just the two of them, for a week... it filled her with butterflies.

“and the rooms aren’t connecting?” she clarified.

“well, they’re across from each other,” said matt. “sort of. we’ll just be ten feet away, don’t worry.”

“that okay?” asked chris, a nervous tinge in his voice.

y/n smiled as confidently as she could manage. “yeah, yes. of course. as long as i can take my long showers in peace.”

“fine. but you better leave the door unlocked in case i have to piss.”

they all laughed at that as the elevator doors opened, and headed in the direction of their rooms.

“okay,” matt began, checking his phone, “can we all agree to meet downstairs for dinner at eight?”

“eight? why so late?”

“because i’m tired, nick. i want to sleep. sue me.”

“at least you got some sleep last night,” nick mumbled, and matt’s hand flew up to smack him in the arm, but chris caught his wrist before it could land.

“just go take your nap. we’ll be down at eight.”

with that, the two retreated into their room. chris fumbled with his keycard for a moment, and y/n’s mouth had just opened to offer help when he managed to open the door.

“finally, some peace and—”

chris’s words died in his throat when he saw the room ahead of him. it was beautiful, like the rest of the hotel, with a mini-bar, a luxury bathroom with a glass shower, and floor to ceiling windows on the back wall. what he wasn’t expecting, however, was the bed.

the one bed.

behind him, y/n yawned, pushing past to be able to close the door. “what’s the matter?” she asked, before catching sight of the issue. “oh.”

it was quiet for a few moments.

chris didn’t know what to think. on the one hand, he’d be a liar if he said that this situation wasn’t on par with countless scenarios he’d daydreamed about him and y/n; the prospect of sleeping next to her— feeling her soft skin against his bare chest, the fresh scent of her shampoo filling his lungs— definitely excited him, no doubt about it. he wished they could have that every day.

on the other hand, he knew this wasn’t like all those times she had spent the night at their place over the years. back in boston, y/n split her time relatively evenly between the triplets. sure, she slept in chris’s bed occasionally, cuddling up close to him under his painfully thin comforter (often complaining that it needed replacing), but she did the same with matt and nick…. chris wasn’t special for that. here, though, in this five star hotel room… it would be just the two of them, alone every night, without so much as a connecting room with the others. it felt different, and he’d be remiss to blindly assume her comfort there.

the silence hung heavily in the air around them, creeping into awkward territory, but it seemed nobody wanted to speak first. chris glanced at y/n, who shifted her weight from one foot to the other. he tried to read her expression, but couldn’t land on anything concrete.

wanting to get ahead of the situation, to prove to y/n that her feelings were his priority, chris said in his best reassuring tone, “no worries. ’s probably just a mistake. i bet they’ll find us another room if we call the front desk.”

y/n’s heart dropped. of course chris didn’t want to sleep in the same bed as her for a whole week. that would be weird, she knew it would be. she just hadn’t expected him to suggest getting another room so quickly— knowing chris, she assumed he would make a few jokes about sharing, maybe playfully suggest she sleep on the floor (to which she would gently smack him upside the head, probably), but ultimately leave it up to her to decide. and from there, she could’ve told him it was no big deal. but now… well, she didn’t want to make him feel like he had to do anything he didn’t want to.

“uh, yeah,” she cleared her throat. “yeah, let’s call, then.”

nobody mentioned the way their once-bubbly energy seemed to fall flat, like a soda that had been left out overnight. in fact, nobody said another word until chris got the concierge on the line.

y/n didn’t bother to pay any attention to the call. she was busy trying not to let her exhaustion and disappointment mark the beginning of this trip; they were supposed to have fun! she needed to shake this one minor thing off and get to vacationing. maybe a visit to the spa would—

“you’re sure? all right. no, it’s no problem. thanks. you too.”

a short huff came from chris as he placed the phone back onto the receiver. scratching the inner corner of his eye, he spoke in an apologetic voice, “they said they’re booked out.” a sympathetic smile graced his perfect lips. “’m sorry. guess you’re stuck with me.”

y/n had never tried so hard to keep her emotions off her face. relief and excitement trickled down her spine, kickstarting her brain. it was like her body forgot it was tired. but she figured chris was probably still uneasy about it, and she didn’t want to seem like a creep.

“okay,” she said, “how about we figure out plan b later? i really need this nap right now.” a minor fib— she was giddy in the moment, yes, but the second her back touched a mattress, she’d be done for.

“all right, sleeping beauty,” the triplet rolled his eyes, the corner of his mouth quirking up, eye crinkling. “you take the bed, i’ll take the chair.”

“don’t be ridiculous,” she tried, hoping she wasn’t pushing her luck, “you need to sleep as much as i do, chris. come lay down.”

“are you sure? it’s no big, honest.”

she giggled, partially to lighten the mood, but also because she found this whole thing to be a bit silly. they’d cuddled countless times! waving him over, she teased, “since when are you too good to nap with me? get over here.”

the content smile on his face was all the reassurance she needed.

⁺⁎˚

chris was losing his mind.

there was no one to blame but himself. he knew agreeing to sleep with y/n (in the literal sense) would be a bad idea, but he hadn’t anticipated this.

by some random fluke, he’d woken up before their alarm went off, disoriented. it took him a few moments to realize where he was, what he was doing there, and… why his chest felt so heavy.

his breath caught. somehow, in the midst of their nap, y/n had ended up right on top of chris— her face buried in his neck, ribs expanding and contracting opposite his own. her legs, which had fallen either side of him, were slightly bent, giving him a sinful view of her ass in those yoga pants.

chris laid there for a moment or so, dumbfounded by his sudden predicament. what was the right thing to do here? he couldn’t wake her up, they still had— (he looked over at the clock)— half an hour until the alarm sounded. and moving her felt like too risky a disturbance. if anyone needed the rest right now, it was y/n.

the boy sighed, gazing at the ceiling like it might have an answer written on it. a minute passed, and just when he thought things couldn’t get more complicated— a whimper.

so faint that at first, chris figured he’d imagined it. but then came another, louder this time, and he definitely didn’t imagine that.

she must’ve been having a nightmare. his heart broke a little at the idea that she wasn’t enjoying what little sleep they were able to get after such a long trip. his arms came up to carefully hold her, rubbing her back with tender strokes so as not to startle her awake. closing his eyes, he hoped that her subconscious would recognize his comforting touch and send the bad dreams away.

“i got you, ma,” he whispered quietly, continuing the motions on her back. it didn’t seem to help— she was still tense above him.

… then the craziest thing: the girl’s hips rutting gently into his own. “chris,” y/n whined, eyes still shut tight, another whimper spilling from her mouth.

chris’s eyes shot open.

no way. she was dreaming about him?

now he was really fucked. if he didn’t move her, he’d surely be getting hard any minute, and that would be… difficult to explain, to put it simply. but if he did, and she woke up, she’d suspect he’d done so for a reason, and she’d be embarrassed either way.

“please, chris.” she sounded desperate.

chris felt like a perv, with his unconscious friend unknowingly grinding on him and whining his name into his neck. god, maybe he was dreaming; she looked so beautiful like this. but she was clearly in some level of distress, and his concern for his friend outweighed his morals.

“okay, ’s okay baby. ’m here,” he laid his cheek against the top of her head, hugging her tighter to him. “’m right here, y/n.”

he kept rubbing her back— slowly, reassuringly. y/n’s body shook in his hold, and chris had to stifle a moan as she gave a particularly hard rut of her hips, another distressed noise hitting his ears. poor thing.

“shh. c’mon, ma… you’re okay.”

eventually, y/n’s movements began to still, and soon the only sounds to be heard were her soft snores filling the room, like nothing out of the ordinary had occurred.

the boy beneath her stared at a spot on the wall, in shock. his best friend just had a dirty dream about him, right on top of him! what was he supposed to do now? tell her? ignore it? the thought of letting this go made his stomach churn.

what if it meant nothing? he’d had countless sexual dreams about people he wasn’t romantically interested in. (if every accidental fantasy had a deeper meaning, he’d be married to his high school algebra tutor by now.) chris couldn’t help but wonder, though…

what if it meant everything?

taglist: @stylessuperwhore @sofieeeeex

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wildfluer · 1 month ago

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✶ LATE NIGHT DRIVES WITH CHRIS

the clock on the dashboard glowed 1:42 am, casting a soft blue light over chris’ hands as they rested on the steering wheel. the road ahead stretched endlessly, empty except for the occasional flicker of a streetlamp. chris glanced over at you, eyes flickering between the road and your face.

“you tired yet?” he asked, voice quiet like he didn’t want to disturb the calmness of the night. you two had been driving around for who knows how long. sometimes staying silent, other times occasionally breaking it with a joke or some deep conversation. you shook your head, leaning back against the seat, watching the city blur past. “not really,” you murmured. “you?”

chris smirked, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel in thought. “nah,” he said, glancing at you for a second before looking back at the road, “i like this.”

you rested your head against the window as you gazed at chris, his hand coming to rest on your thigh. the car slowed as he pulled up to a red light, the soft glow reflecting on his face as he turned to you. “where to now?”

you shrugged, letting out a small breath, “doesn’t matter.”

he grinned at that, the gesture making your stomach flip in the most familiar way. “good answer.” the light turned green, and with one hand on the wheel and the other warm on your thigh, he hit the gas and took off into the night. there was no destination, no hurry—just the two of you enjoying the moment together. it was nights like this that made everything else fade away.

TAGLIST : @et6rnalsun @inspiredangel @sirenedeslily @freshloveee @miguelspvssy @plaidcowboy @filipowitch @sosasturns @chrissweetheart @delilahsturns @t0riiiis @sturn777

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st7rnioioss · 4 days ago

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𓂅 ♥︎ ❛❛15 MINUTES❜❜

⋆ ˚ .ೃ ࿔ * pairing... skater!chris x girly!reader

𓂃 ֹ ᮫ in which... skater!chris and girly!reader really should be on their way to a birthday party... but she's got other plans.

warnings... smut, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, grinding/dry humping, swearing.

♡ ˖ ࣪ ◟ “oh, my god. stop, y’know we gotta be out the door in like.. fifteen minutes, doll.” chris whined, his larger hands running down the sides of your waist, steadying the swirling of your hips on top of his, his eyes gazing at your tits that were pressed together in your tight top, basically spilling out of the delicate fabric.

chris was rock hard, his cock obviously tenting through the dark material of his jeans. the restraint of his boxers only made it worse, the material already sticky from his precum, and clinging to his flushed cock. not only were you grinding on top of him like there was no tomorrow, but he now he had to change his clothes too.. yeah, you were gonna be pretty late for your friends birthday if he had to even get you off his lap.

you shook your head, biting even harder down on your lip to conceal any noises that threatened to leave, which you eventually gave up on. “n-no.. it’ll only take a second. i can do a lot with fifteen minutes, chris.” the soaking fabric of your panties creating a dark, moist patch on his jeans, every word that left his lips, that were glistening with your saliva, making you gush even more.

your pussy was aching and needy for him to fill you up, and you decided to act on it, despite the pressure of time. he just looked way too good dressed up, his hair styled. “wha- baby, what are you doing?” chris asked when you started undoing his belt, the rolling of your hips coming to a stop.

“m’not doing anything… just wanna make you feel good, please?” even though you asked so nicely, you didn’t really care what he answered. you dragged his pants down, staring at the damp patch on his boxers. “woah. all this, from that..?” you tried not to stare too much out of respect, looking up at him with a proud smile, giggling softly.

“yeah, whatever.. jus’ keep going, we don’t have a lot of time.” he murmured shyly as his cheeks turned a light pink, helping you maneuver his underwear down his thighs, just enough for his erection to spring free. chris’s face was bright red in embarrassment from how ridiculously, painfully hard he was—he knew he wouldn’t last long, and it didn’t exactly stoke his ego too much.

his length was throbbing, obviously aching in a pleasurable sense of pain, his tip red and flushed. glistening too—the whole head of his cock sticky, and trickling precum from his tip. yeah, he definitely wouldn’t last long. “i don’t need time, christopher. only gonna take two to make you finish,” you could’ve been gaping at the sight of his needy cock, but you decided there was no time for that, already in a hurry.

oh, he wished you were lying. the second he moved your panties to the side, revealing your sloppy cunt under your skirt, and he had your warmth wrapped around him, he knew you were right about what you said. every single inch of your pussy stretched out around his fat dick made him lose his mind, his eyes stuck to the back of his skull.

“holy shit- y’feel so fucking good.. mhh- m’not gonna last long..” he whimpered, the relief of finally having you on top of him making him edge closer, and closer to fill you up by the second, even though you barely even got started yet.

a sharp gasp fell from your lips when you felt the girth of him stretch you out, your nails digging into his shoulder through his shirt. “fuck- me neither.. you’re so big, feels so good,” you nearly drooled at the pure stretch of him, the words coming out hurried.

carefully, you started grinding your hips into his with a loud whine, your clit brushing against his pelvis as you desperately tried to hold on and savor the moment for a second or two, but you knew you had run out of patience long ago. “d-don’t stop— that’s good, baby.. you’re so pretty like this,” he groaned, his blunt fingernails pressing into your waist while you tried to keep up your pace.

you felt every ridge and vein of his dick rub against your insides, his tip kissing you g-spot every time your body smacked against his. “n-not gonna last, chris.. need t’cum,” you moaned, your face flushing from arousal, your cunt fluttering around his length.

you were both a mess, chris’s fingers sneaking up your body to cradle your face in his hands, pulling you in for a kiss. every moan the two of you let out harmonized, swallowed by the kiss. it didn’t take long before you were clenching around him, struggling to kiss back as you reached your high, your sensitive, swollen clit rubbing against his pelvis with every thrust.

chris helped you ride out your high by bucking his hips up into yours, watching you as the waves of pleasure took over you, a wet squelch emitted from where your bodies connected.

chris’s mind turned to haywire, completely entranced by the sight of your face scrunching up in pleasure, moan after moan of his name falling off your tongue like you had no care in the world.

“j-jesus christ.. m’gonna cum— “ chris barely got to warn, before the white stripes of his warm released coated your insides, painting them white. you were way too out of your mind to realize, until you felt the sensation trickle down your inner thighs when he pulled out of you.

“are you kidding me? chris!” you whined, watched the mess that was sticking to your skin. he looked guilty, almost like a kicked puppy, until a smile grew on his lips.

“sorry! i just- i didn’t have time to pull out, you looked too good!” he defended, but you eventually gave up and laughed along with him, leaning into his body. “we’ll definitely have to clean this up,” you mumbled, quickly checking the time on your phone while he nodded, carefully raking his fingers through your hair.

“what did i say! only took me two minutes,” you proudly showed him the time with a big smile, proving you had in fact only spent two minutes and probably a couple seconds. “fine, whatever.. let’s get you cleaned up then,” he changed the subject with a smirk, giving your ass a quick squeeze when you both got up to run off to the bathroom.

more skater!chris x girly!reader here!

˚𝜗𝜚 notes... siiiiigihh i hate my own writing. someone else also made a fic based on this song, but i forgot who!

۶ৎ taglist: @jetaimevous @missmimii @mattscoquette @pearlzier @witchofthehour @elizasturn @loveparqdise @delilahsturniolo @phone4pills @sturnsmia @hearts4werka @cayleeuhithinknott @strnilolover @sturnvxz @lovergirl4gracieabrams @ifwdominicfike @toftomgmf @emely9274 @sturnioloangell @blushsturns @sierrraaaaxz @slut4chris888 @marrykisskilled @sophand4n4 @sturnihoelooo @unknvhx @chrisslut04 @sturniolossss @slvtf0rchr1s @blahbel668 @starkeysturniolo @miolos @user1smvtysturniolo @lizzyzzn @sturnslutz @decimatedxdreams @chrissturnioloswife88 @sturn777 @sturniolonationsblog @frankoceanfanpage @priscillaog @courta13 @sweetrelieef @loverboysturn @sturns-mermaid @cutseylady @sofieeeeex @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan @mattsturnii @conspiracy-ash

#🐇་༘࿐ works #⌗⋆. skater!chris x girly!reader ⋆. 𐙚 ˚#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo fanfiction #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets fanfic #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets smut

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darksturnz · 27 days ago

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i seen this on insta n immediately thought of chris LMAO

Chris is fucking insufferable.

Like, actually.

You could kill him.

You’re gripping the sheets, face down, barely keeping yourself together as he drags slow, deep thrusts into you from behind—each one knocking a little breath out of your lungs. The room is dim, the only light coming from the streetlamp outside, casting long shadows across the walls, but it’s enough to catch the reflection in the mirror beside his bed.

And that’s when it happens.

Right as you’re about to break, jaw slack, eyes unfocused, you glance at the mirror and—

That motherfucker.

Chris is looking directly into the reflection, his brows furrowed in concentration, his lips twitching—and then he lifts a hand and fucking waves at you.

Your brain short-circuits.

“What the fuck—”

You twist slightly to glare at him over your shoulder, but Chris just grins, all dimples and mischief, like he’s not currently rearranging your guts.

“Hi Ma,” he greets casually, voice all smooth and deep, like this is some normal, everyday thing.

You’re still trying to process his audacity when he decides to double down, snapping his hips forward suddenly, and you choke on a gasp, your fingers scrambling to grip the sheets once more.

Chris hums in amusement, watching your reaction in the mirror like a damn hawk.

“What? You looked,” he points out smugly, and god, you wish you had the strength to punch him.

But you don’t.

Because he’s currently fucking you stupid.

And when he waves again, like a fucking asshole, you don’t even have it in you to be mad anymore.

You just whimper into the mattress and squeeze your eyes shut, refusing to give him the satisfaction of watching you fall apart.

Doesn’t matter, though—he grabs you by the roots of your hair, forcing you to watch as he fucks you through the mirror, a shit-eating grin stretched across his face

#𑁍ࠬܓdarksturnz #chris stuniolo x reader #chris sturniolo fanfiction #chris sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets smut #sturniolo triplets

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emotionalblues · 6 months ago

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pics that SCREAM dealer!chris! (in my opinion)

part two

matt version

dealer!chris has been on my mind for the past week! also might make a part 2(depends on how this one goes) and I lowkey wanna make a matt version

#dealer!chris #dealer chris #chris sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets #chris sturiolo fanfic #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo fanfiction #christopher sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you

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vanteguccir · 3 months ago

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤMIDNIGHT COMPANY * CHRIS STURNIOLO

SUMMARY　::　while filming a car video, the triplets witness a girl - Y/N - arguing with her boyfriend. When he smashes her phone and leaves her alone at midnight in the middle of a random parking lot, Chris steps in.

FEATURING　Chris Sturniolo x reader　REQUESTED?　yes.

WARNINGS　::　toxic relationship, yelling, fighting, being hurt physically and emotionally, manipulation, panicking.

AUTHOR'S NOTE　::　that is my work, I DON'T authorize any form of plagiarism; copy, "inspiration" or translation! | english isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

Y/N didn't meant for things to end up like that.

She really didn't.

She was just walking alongside her boyfriend through the Target aisles, her eyes darting nervously between the shelves and the floor.

But she should know better. He had already been irritated when they left the apartment - something about her taking too long to get ready - and now, every move she made felt like a mistake.

"Stick close." Her boyfriend had muttered, his voice low but firm. His eyes darted around the store, scanning the aisles of brightly colored products with an air of impatience. "I don’t want to spend all night in here."

Y/N nodded quickly, her throat dry.

"Okay."

They made their way down the main aisle, her boyfriend grabbing a few items and putting them into the cart with little regard. It was always like that; he made the decisions, and she just agreed and moved on.

He paused at the end of that same aisle, scanning the shelves with a discerning eye. She lingered a few steps behind, observing.

He grabbed a box of granola bars from the shelf, tossing it into the cart with a louder thud. She winced at the sound, her stomach knotting with unease.

"Why are you standing there? Do you see the cereal we get?" He asked, his tone clipped.

Her throat tightened. She scanned the shelves frantically, her eyes moving over the rows of colorful boxes. She wasn’t sure if it was the green box or the blue one.

"Um, I think..." She started, reaching hesitantly toward one of the options.

"Don’t think. Look." He snapped, already sounding exasperated.

Her hand faltered, and she pulled it back. Her heart was pounding, and her palms had grown clammy against the leather strap of her purse. She wanted to go home.

They turned into the household goods section, where shelves were lined with glass containers, picture frames, and other fragile items. Her boyfriend stopped abruptly, examining a set of drinking glasses with a critical eye.

"Do you think these match the ones we already have?" He asked, holding up a box with pretty crystal wine glasses.

Y/N hesitated, unsure if he wanted an answer or was just thinking out loud.

"I-I think so."

Her boyfriend sighed, setting the box down with a clatter.

"You’re not even paying attention."

"I am." She said quickly, her voice barely above a whisper, desperately searching for his free hand. "I promise."

"Whatever." He muttered, letting her squeeze his fingers once before dropping hers, moving on.

Y/N quickly followed, trying to stay out of his way, her eyes fixed on his tall figure, crossing her hands in front of her body and forcing her brain to pay more attention to anything he touched or pointed out. She couldn't risk him thinking that she didn't care.

As she passed by one of the shelves, her purse brushed against a precariously balanced display of small vases. Time seemed to slow as the first vase teetered, then fell, hitting the shelf below it and sending a chain reaction through the display.

Crash!

The sound was deafening. Glass shattered across the floor, the pieces glinting under the white lights. Y/N froze, her breath catching in her throat. She stared at the mess, her heart pounding so hard she thought it might burst out of her chest.

"Oh my god. Are you serious?" Her boyfriend hissed under his breath.

She dropped to her knees instinctively, trembling as she tried to gather the pieces with her bare hands.

"I’m sorry." She whispered, her voice trembling and desperate.

"You're fucking nbelievable." He muttered under his breath, loud enough for her to hear.

She stopped for a moment, tears prickling at the corners of her eyes. She wasn’t crying because of the spilled glasses. It wasn’t even about the moment itself. It was about the weight of knowing that every mistake she made was a reason for him to get tired of her. To leave her.

"I’m sorry." She whispered, again and again, the words tumbling out of her mouth as though they might undo the damage. "I’m so s-sorry."

But it wasn’t just an apology. It was an instinctive response, born from the fear of making him feel any sort of negative emotion at all. She knew that he wouldn’t brush this off, wouldn’t laugh, and say it was no big deal. He would be mad, and she couldn't let him get mad at her. Not again.

She desperately wanted to shrink herself down into something more digestible for him at that moment. Something he could chew up, spit out, and discard - like gum.

A woman at the end of the aisle glanced over, her expression a mix of surprise and concern. A man on the opposite side peeked around the corner, his eyes narrowing as he took in the scene.

Y/N’s face burned with humiliation. She felt their stares on her, for sure, full of judgment. Her hands fumbled over the shards, shaking too hard to pick them up properly.

Her boyfriend crouched down beside her, his expression now unusually calm. His hand landed on her shoulder, but the grip was firm, bordering on painful.

"Y/N, honey, stop. You’re going to hurt yourself."

"I’m sorry." She whispered again, the tears on her eyes starting to burn her orbs with the force she used to stop the drops from escaping. She couldn’t let him see her break. She’d learned the hard way that crying only made him angrier.

"Stop it." He said more firmly, moving his hand through her arm, grabbing her wrist and pulling her hand away from the glass. He looked up at the people looking back at them and forced a polite, almost apologetic smile. "She’s... a little clumsy. Always has been. Right, honey? I know you didn’t mean to. You can’t help it, can you?"

Y/N stiffened, her stomach churning. She forced her head to move up and down, the movement coming out almost robotic.

"You’re just... distracted. All the time." He continued, his smile cold and tight. "That’s why these things happen. You can’t focus."

She wanted to argue, to tell him that she wasn’t some careless mess, but the words died in her throat. What good would it do?

"Here." He said, taking an empty cardboard box near them and shoving the pieces to the side with it, taking it all out of the way. "There. Fixed. See?"

She nodded, swallowing hard.

"Now, get up."

She stood, her knees wobbling slightly as she adjusted the strap of her purse. He grabbed her arm, his fingers digging into her skin.

"It’s okay." He continued, speaking louder now so the others could hear. "She just gets a little overwhelmed sometimes. Don’t worry, we’ll take care of this."

The man at the end of the aisle nodded, giving her boyfriend a small, understanding smile. The woman pursed her lips and turned away, muttering something about how 'accidents happen'.

"Let’s go." He said through clenched teeth as he started walking toward the exit.

"But-"

"No." His voice was low, but the warning was clear. He smiled tightly at the few remaining onlookers as he dragged her past them.

Her face burned with humiliation, but she kept quiet, her eyes glued to the floor. His grip tightened when her feet seemed to disobey her brain, and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from crying out.

The automatic doors slid open, and the cool night air rushed over her, but it did nothing to calm the storm inside her head. Her boyfriend’s pace didn’t slow, his hand still gripping her skin as he led her toward the parking lot.

Her heart was pounding, her thoughts spiraling into chaos. She felt like a child being scolded, small and powerless, her voice locked somewhere deep inside her throat.

When they reached the car, he finally let go of her arm, shoving her away as if she were a piece of garbage. She stumbled slightly, catching herself against the side of the car, waiting for whatever came next.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

From the other side of their spot in the parking lot, the triplets were parked, their van slightly away from the main entrance. It was Wednesday night, and they were filming their weekly video, the interior of the van alive with yells and laughter.

"... No, seriously, people do that sometimes." Chris said, turning slightly towards Matt while trying to prove his point. "Patches O'Houlihan, he did that."

Matt scoffed, looking at him with an 'are you serious?' look.

"From Dodgeball? The fictional character?" He laughed incredulously, looking at Nick through the rearview, ready for another weird thing to come out of Chris's mouth.

Nick's attention, however, wasn’t on him - or them, for that matter. It was on the world outside. He always had a habit of scanning his surroundings, probably in a way of caring for himself and his brothers.

As Chris kept going, earning a loud groan from Matt, Nick’s eyes caught movement across the parking lot, almost exactly in front of their van. Near one of the parked cars, a couple stood in the golden glow of a streetlamp.

Nick’s stomach twisted. Something about the way the guy loomed over the girl, his gestures sharp and erratic, immediately set off alarm bells. The girl was visibly distressed, her arms crossed over her chest, her posture shrinking with every second.

Without thinking, Nick leaned forward and slapped Chris on the shoulder, interrupting him.

"Nick, what the-" Chris began, turning sharply, his annoyance evident.

"Shut up." Nick hissed, his voice low but firm, cutting through Chris’s protest. He nodded toward the couple. "Look."

Chris frowned but followed Nick’s gaze, his expression shifting from irritation to curiosity and then to concern. Matt, who had been in the middle of adjusting his hoodie, leaned closer to the windshield.

"What’s going on?" Matt asked, his voice quieter now.

Nick didn’t answer, instead reaching for the button to lower his window, easing it down. A faint, angry voice carried into the van, growing clearer as the man’s yelling intensified.

"... do you even understand how embarrassing you are?"

The girl stood frozen, her arms clutching her sides as though trying to hold herself together. Her head was bowed, her hair shielding her face from the world. She didn’t respond, didn’t dare to look up, and that only seemed to fuel his anger.

"What the fuck?" Matt muttered, leaning forward slightly to get a better look, his eyes glued to the scene.

"You think I’m joking?" He snapped, stepping closer to her. "You think I enjoy having every pair of eyes in that store on me because you can’t manage to walk without causing a damn scene?" The man continued, stepping closer to her.

Her response was so soft that it barely reached the triplets’ ears.

"I’m sorry..."

"Sorry?" The man laughed bitterly. "You’re always sorry. You’re sorry when you spill coffee, you’re sorry when you trip over your own feet, and now you’re sorry for knocking over half a shelf like a goddamn child?"

The girl flinched at his words, biting her bottom lip while taking a small - almost imperceptible - step back.

Chris tensed after watching her reaction, his jaw tightening.

"This guy’s a piece of-"

"Chris, shush." Matt snapped, his voice low.

"I told you before, didn’t I? Stop acting like a fool every time we’re out in public. This is for your own good." The man spat.

"I didn’t mean to-" She started, but he cut her off quickly.

"Shut up!" He barked, his voice echoing across the lot. She shrank back, her body trembling. "You know better than to talk back to me." He growled, taking another step closer.

"I wasn’t-"

"Stop talking!" He barked, his voice echoing across the empty lot probably louder than intended. "Every time you open your mouth, you make it worse. Do you even understand that? Or are you too stupid to figure it out?"

Tears accumulated inside her eyeballs, shining below the lights.

"Look, I’ll call an Uber, okay?" Y/N murmured, her voice cracking. "You can go home and calm down. Please."

"Oh, you’ll call an Uber? Sure, let’s waste more of my money on your screw-ups." The man’s laugh was sharp and bitter.

She reached into her purse, her hands shaking as she pulled out her phone, unlocking it and trying to search for tha app, being harshly interrupted when the man snatched the device from her grip with such force that she stumbled.

Chris shifted uncomfortably, his fists clenched on his lap.

"Do we step in?"

"I don't think we should, not right now." Nick whispered.

"Give it back. Please, baby." She asked, her voice weak, trembling.

"Why? So you can text your little friends about what a terrible boyfriend I am?" He sneered, holding the phone high above his head.

Y/N's mouth dropped open, her wet eyes widening as if he had just committed the worst crime.

"Baby, please." She begged, her tears now falling freely, causing her voice to break. "I would never ever do that. I love you so much, you know that, right?"

He ignored her. With a single, violent motion, he hurled the phone to the ground. The sound of glass and plastic shattering against the pavement echoed in the silence.

She recoiled as though the blow had landed on her instead of the device, a squeak involuntarily escaping from her mouth. Her arms wrapped tighter around herself as she stared at the broken pieces. Her whole life, broken.

"Should've had taken that shit from you sooner." The man spat, shaking his head. "Pathetic. Can’t do anything right."

Matt and Nick exchanged horrified glances through the rearview, Chris's face pale by their side.

"P-please, don't leave me here, baby. I love you, I'm so sorry." The girl begged, gluing her hands in a praying gesture in front of her body. "I promise I'll do better."

"I can't even look at your face right now." The man shook his head. "I need some time, okay?" He didn't wait for an answer before storming off to the driver-side of his car, slamming the door and speeding out of the lot, tires screeching against the asphalt.

Y/N stood frozen, her trembling figure illuminated by the lights and the moon.

Chris didn’t think. One second, he was staring at her, and the next, his hand was on the van door handle, yanking it open.

"Chris!" Matt hissed from the driver’s seat. "What are you doing?"

"Chris- what the fuck?!" Nick added, his voice urgent but not loud enough to stop him.

But Chris couldn’t wait. He couldn’t sit there any longer, watching this girl suffer alone.

He bolted from the van, the cool night air hitting him like a slap, but he barely noticed. His long strides carried him across the parking lot, his heart pounding not from his pace but from pure urgency.

"Oh my god, he's crazy!" Matt’s groan echoed from behind him, but it was distant, like background noise.

He didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop.

The closer he got, the more his stomach churned. Her face was streaked with tears, her cheeks blotchy and raw from crying. But she wasn’t just crying. She was panicking. He could see it in the way her hands trembled uncontrollably, and in the way her breath came in short, sharp gasps.

Chris slowed as he approached her, not wanting to startle her. She was staring at the exit of the parking lot, her wide, unfocused and tear-filled eyes locked on the gate arm as though it was the only thing anchoring her to the ground.

"Hey." He said softly, his voice gentle but firm.

She flinched, her head snapping up, and her gaze locked on him as she took a step back. For a moment, she looked utterly terrified, and Chris's throat tightened.

He quickly held his hands up, palms out, trying to show her he wasn’t a threat.

"Hey, hey, it’s okay." He said quickly. "I just... I saw what happened, and I wanted to check if you’re okay."

Her lips parted as if she wanted to say something, but no words came out. Instead, a fresh wave of tears spilled down her cheeks. She shook her head, taking another step back, her back almost hitting the metal post of the streetlight.

"You don’t have to be scared." Chris said, his voice softer now, almost pleading. "I’m not going to hurt you, I swear. I just want to help."

She looked at him again, her watery eyes studying his face as though trying to figure out if he was lying.

Chris took a cautious step closer, keeping his movements slow.

"You’re shaking." He said gently. "It's freezing out here. Can I... can I give you my hoodie?"

She blinked at him, her brows furrowing slightly.

"Why?" She croaked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Because it’s cold, and you’re upset, and I’d feel better if you weren’t standing out here like this." Chris said honestly, shrugging off his hoodie - ignoring how the hairs on his arm fully stood up with the cold air - and holding it out to her.

She hesitated, her eyes darting from his face to the piece of clothing, then back again.

"It’s okay." Chris reassured her. "You don’t have to take it, but I promise it’s clean. And warm."

After what felt like an eternity, she slowly reached out and took the hoodie from him. Her hands were trembling so much that she almost dropped it, but she managed to pull it to her chest, pressing it against her covered skin.

"Thank you." She mumbled, her voice shaky.

Chris exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

"Of course. What’s your name?" He asked in a soft tone. "I'm Chris."

She blinked her eyes at him, frowning, clearly surprised by the question.

"Y-Y/N." She said hesitantly.

"Y/N." He repeated, offering her a small, reassuring smile. "It’s really nice to meet you... Um, do you want to sit down? You look like you need a second."

She looked around the parking lot again before nodding slowly, and Chris gestured to the curb nearby. He waited until she sat down before taking a seat a few feet away, giving her space but staying close enough that she wouldn’t feel alone.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

"I’m fine." She finally said - even though it wasn't what Chris was expecting to hear, her voice cutting through the silence, hoarse and shaky.

Chris tilted his head slightly, his brows furrowing.

"I don’t think you are."

"I am." She insisted, but her voice cracked on the words, betraying her.

Chris turned his face slightly to the side to meet her eyes, curving his upper body, trying to make himself seem less imposing.

"I know you don’t know me. Well, only my name now." He said softly. "But I can tell you’re not fine. And that’s okay. You don’t have to be. Not after that."

She bit her lower lip hard, and for a second, Chris thought she might break down again. But instead, she straightened her spine, her trembling hands wiping at her tear-streaked face.

"It's not as bad as it looked. He was just angry." She said quietly, almost as if she was saying that to herself. "It’s not his fault. I... I messed up."

Chris’s heart sank at her words.

"You didn’t mess up." He said firmly, his voice laced with conviction.

She shook her head, her hands gripping the fabric of his hoodie tightly.

"I did. I dropped something, broke it, actually. It was stupid, and it drew attention to us, and... and he doesn’t like that. He was just trying to make me understand."

Chris stared at her, his chest tightening painfully.

"That’s not okay." He said softly. "No one should treat you like that, no matter what happened."

"You don’t understand." She said, her voice rising slightly as she hugged herself tighter. "He just... he gets frustrated sometimes, but it’s because he cares. He doesn’t mean to be mean."

Chris’s jaw clenched, a mix of anger and sadness boiling inside him.

"Love isn’t supposed to be like that, Y/N." He said gently. "It’s not supposed to hurt you and leave you standing in a parking lot crying, shaking, and alone."

Her eyes filled with fresh tears again, and she looked away, staring at the ground as if she couldn’t bear to meet his gaze.

"You don’t know him." She whispered, shaking her head vehemently.

Chris wanted to scream, to grab her shoulders, and shake her until she understood that what she was describing wasn’t love. It was control, manipulation, and abuse. But even though he had never helped a victim of a toxic and abusive relationship before, he knew he should keep his voice calm, so he did it, maintaining his tone soft and steady.

"You’re right." He said. "I don’t know him. But I know what I saw, and I can only imagine what it feels like to have someone make you think you’re the problem when you’re not."

Her head whipped toward him, her eyes narrowing.

"You don’t know anything about me."

Chris held up his hands.

"You’re right again. I don’t. But I’m not here to judge you. I’m here because I want to help. No strings, no expectations. Just... let me help. I can't leave you alone here for the rest of the night."

She shook her head again, her hands trembling as she brushed her hair out of her face.

"I shouldn’t even be talking to you about this. It isn't fair to him. He’d be so heartbroken if he knew."

Chris watched her for a second too long.

"But you deserve to talk to someone." He finally said. "You deserve to feel safe."

"I am safe!" She snapped, her voice ringing out in the empty parking lot. The declaration sounded hollow, as if she was trying to convince herself more than him.

Chris took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a second.

"I just want to help you." He said, his tone pleading. "Do you have someone you can call? A family member, a friend? You can use my phone-"

Her reaction was immediate and panicked. She shook her head furiously, her eyes wide with fear as her body tightened, seeming ready to stand up and run.

"No! No, I can’t call anyone."

"Why not?" Chris asked gently, though his heart was racing, his eyes traveling quickly to his car where his brothers were before going back to Y/N. "They’d want to help you, just like I do."

"I said no!" She cried, her voice cracking. Her breathing was shallow and quick now, teetering on the edge of hyperventilation. "You don’t understand. I can’t just call someone. And you... you need to go. God, you shouldn’t even be here."

Chris frowned, his brows knitting together.

"Please, I’m just trying to-"

"You don’t get it." She interrupted, her voice hushed but frantic. She glanced around the parking lot as though expecting her boyfriend to be there somewhere, watching them. "He’s going to come back. And if he sees you here, if he thinks... you need to leave. Now."

Chris’s stomach dropped at the sheer terror in her voice.

"Y/N, he won't hurt you in any type of way while I'm here with you. I can promise you that." He moved a bit closer again, careful not to make any sudden movement. "Let me do something for you. Anything, please."

"You can’t." She whispered, her voice barely audible. "No one can. Please, just go. He’s going to be here soon, and I-I can’t let him see you."

She was holding onto that story like it was a lifeline, but the way her hands trembled and her breath hitched betrayed her doubt.

"What if he doesn’t?" Chris asked gently. "What if he’s not coming back tonight?"

Her face fell for a brief moment before she quickly masked it, straightening up.

"He will." She said, though there was no conviction in her tone. "He always does."

Chris nodded, looking around dismissively.

"Okay. Maybe he will. But just in case... maybe you could let me help you. You don’t have to trust me, I get that. I'm a stranger. But let me offer you something. A safe place to wait."

"I don’t have anywhere to go." She admitted, her voice so quiet it was almost lost in the night air. "Just our house. And I don't think I should go back there now."

Chris’s heart twisted at her words and how uncertain they sound, but he kept his expression neutral, careful not to show pity.

"Okay." He said softly. "Then maybe you can just... talk to me. You don’t have to get in my car. We can sit out here. I’ll stay right here in the open where you can see me."

She hesitated, her eyes darting to the ground.

"Why do you care so much?"

Chris crossed his legs above the pavement, relaxing his posture further.

"Because I know what it’s like to feel like you’re on your own." He said simply. "And because I don’t think anyone should have to go through something like this alone. You don’t deserve that."

She hesitated, her gaze watching her hands above her thighs.

"I won’t call the police unless you want me to." Chris added. "I won’t push you to do anything you don't want to do. But you don’t have to deal with this alone."

Her lip quivered, and she closed her eyes tightly, her voice barely a whisper.

"I don’t even know what I’d do."

Chris’s heart ached for her, but he kept his tone steady.

"How about this." He said. "I’ll stay with you until you figure that out. If you want, I can take you to a hotel, or I can help you find somewhere else to stay for the night. But whatever you decide, I’m not going to leave you here."

She was silent for a long time, her shoulders rising and falling with each shaky breath. Finally, she nodded, just once.

"Okay." She said.

Chris exhaled slowly, relief washing over him.

"Okay." He echoed.

For the first time that night, she looked at him fully, her eyes filled with a mix of fear and cautious hope.

He opened his widest smile in response, leaning back slightly with his palms against the curb behind his back and glancing up at the sky.

"You know." He started, his tone casual. "This isn’t exactly the way I imagined spending my Wednesday night."

Her eyes scanned his face carefully, frowning, feeling like she was the one to destroy his day - or night.

"What do you mean?" She asked hesitantly, her voice hoarse.

Chris shrugged, being careful not to mention his career. He didn't want to overwhelm her.

"Well, usually on Wednesdays, I’m sitting in my van with my brothers, arguing over who gets to pick the fast-food spot. We’re probably debating something ridiculous, too."

That earned him the smallest, almost imperceptible twitch of her lips. It wasn’t quite a smile, but it was something. It encouraged Chris to continue.

"My brothers are idiots, by the way." He said, his tone light. "Don’t tell them I said that, though. They'll get big heads thinking I actually pay attention to their nonsense."

Her brow rose slightly, curiosity tugging at the edges of her expression, her body instinctively leaning towards him.

"What are they like?"

Chris chuckled, throwing his head to the side, laying his cheek against his shoulder and looking at her eyes.

"They're amazing. Weird, but amazing. They're so funny in their individual way, always making me laugh so hard that sometimes I feel like I could pass out."

This time, she let out a soft, breathy laugh, and Chris felt a flicker of warmth in his chest. It was small, but it was progress.

"You’re close with them?" She asked quietly.

"Yeah." Chris said, nodding. "It’s hard not to be when you all live and do everything together. But they’re good guys. Annoying as hell, but good."

She looked down at her hands, her fingers fidgeting with the frayed edge of his hoodie sleeve.

"Must be nice." She murmured.

Chris’s smile faltered for a moment, but he recovered quickly.

"It is." He admitted. "But, you know, we fight sometimes. Like, really fight. Last week, Matt threw a punch at me because I wouldn’t stop talking during his game."

Her lips twitched again, and this time, it was a small, shy smile.

"What were you saying?" She asked, her voice soft but carrying a hint of amusement.

"Oh, some random shit. Can’t even remember now. Probably something embarrassing, knowing me." Chris grinned. "Matt said I was ruining his concentration, but honestly, I think he just doesn’t appreciate my brain work."

She shook her head slightly, her smile lingering.

"You’re ridiculous." She said softly, almost reflexively, but as soon as the words left her mouth, her expression shifted. Her body tensed up, her shoulders pulling in as her eyes darted to him in alarm. "I didn’t mean-"

"Guilty as charged." Chris smoothly interrupted her, opening a smirk while looking at her, trying to express through his eyes that it was okay. "But, hey, if ridiculous is what it takes to make you laugh, then I’m all in."

Her looked down again at the pavement, scraping her shoes over the small rocks.

"Thanks." She said quietly.

"For what?" Chris asked, his voice gentle.

"For... keeping me company." She said, her gaze fixed on her lap. "I don’t feel... as bad right now."

Chris felt a lump in his throat but pushed it down, keeping his tone light.

"Anytime." He said. "I’ve got a whole arsenal of dumb stories and good jokes if you need them."

She looked at him then, her eyes softer than before.

"You’re really nice." She said, pressing her lips in a fine line.

Chris shrugged, a faint blush creeping up his neck.

"I just don’t like seeing people hurt." He said honestly. "And, I don’t know, you seem like someone who deserves a lot better than... all this."

Her eyes filled with tears, and for a moment, Chris thought she might start crying again. Instead, she took a deep breath and nodded.

"Thanks." She said again, her voice steadier this time.

Chris gave her a warm smile.

"No problem. Now, how do you feel about bad puns? Because I’ve got a killer one about a duck and a lawyer."

Her laughter filled the cold night air, causing a large smile to stretch across Chris's lips. He would do everything in his power to help this girl.

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