Reblogged suyqa
im so done, need those fingers in me rn
Reblogged
I can’t stop thinking about him in this shirt, matter of fact i’m ALWAYS thinking about him in this shirt.
Don’t ask me how or why but this definitely just shows how big his dick is(i mean we’ve already seen it but) i’m speaking on like actions wise
stream: August 29, 2024
-I think that Chris would totally ruin you during missionary btw, like with his muscle mass—just imagine constantly grabbing onto his arms while also trying to take his dick??
-Chris’s tongue could lick every part of my body and i’d be set for life.
-I love how he knows he looks hot as fuck in this shirt but doesn’t do too much—like he’s subtly flexing it but also not taking it serious which is why bitches love him(i’m bitches)
-God I need to get choked the fucked out by him at least once or twice while he’s giving me backshots.
tag list🔪
could not agree more
Reblogged
about me! ᡣ𐭩
꒰ㅤEllie ౨ৎㅤ꒱ Bisexual 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓀𝓎 ✚ 4teen 𐔌ྀ ‧ 𐙚ྀㅤChris girl♡
꒰ likes: sturniolo triplets, Chris sturniolo, Matt sturniolo, Nick sturniolo, Tara yummy, ppl who match my freak, 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓀𝓎 ppl, my boo @hunyoucantresistme
𐔌ྀ ‧ 𐙚ྀㅤ
꒰ dislikes: ppl who don’t match my freak, ppl who hate the sturniolos, ppl who don’t like tarayummy, ppl who hate Chris sturniolo, n Matt sturniolo n Nick sturniolo,
꒰ fav blogs: @hunyoucantresistme @chrepsi @bernardsbendystraws
𐔌ྀ ‧ 𐙚ྀㅤ
꒰ crushes: Chris sturniolo, my bf,
꒰ fav type of edits: 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓀𝓎 but mostly soft edits, ones with moaning in the bg, super freaky ones
꒰ fav colors: light blue
taglist: @chrepsi @hunyoucantresistme @shadowthesim237 @chrissweetheart @chrissturniolossidebitch @whor3ing
my fav everrr 😝❤️
Reblogged
"the glass between us"
-chris sturniolo
warnings: angst. mentions of drug use, physical altercation, themes of regret and emotional trauma
requested by: anon
wc: 1.4k
It started with the phone call.
You were in the kitchen, folding laundry on the counter, when Matt called,his voice tense, panicked. Chris hadn’t come home last night. Again. And this time, he wasn’t answering texts. Not his. Not yours. Nothing.
When Chris finally walked through the front door around noon, smelling of smoke and cheap liquor, your relief gave way to something colder. Anger laced with fear.
“Where the fuck have you been Chris?” you asked, too quiet.
He barely looked at you. “Out.”
“Out?” You tossed the shirt you were folding. “Do you even care that Matt was worried sick? That I was?”
Chris shrugged off his hoodie and walked past you toward the fridge like it was nothing. Like none of it mattered.
“I’m not a fucking kid,” he muttered.
“No, but you’re acting like one,” you snapped, heart hammering now. “You disappeared, Chris. You didnt answer a single call. Matt’s freaking out because he thought maybe you OD’d again, and you—”
“Again?” He turned then, sharply. “You think I’m using?”
“I don’t know what to think anymore!” you shouted. “You lie, you disappear, you shut down the second anyone tries to care about you. And I’m done tiptoeing around you.”
He was silent.
You pushed forward, voice cracking now. “You’re hurting people. You’re hurting me. And all we do is make excuses for you, especially your brothers, especially Matt. Do you even see what this is doing to him?”
Chris scoffed. “Don’t drag my brother into this.”
“Why not? He’s the only reason you haven’t crashed harder. He covers for you. He loves you. But you don’t even notice because you’re too busy setting yourself on fire and making people to try and put it out!”
Chris slammed the fridge door shut so hard the bottles inside clinked loudly. “Shut up.”
“No,” you said, heart pounding. “You want everyone to feel sorry for you, but you won’t let anyone in. Not Matt. Not Nick. Not me.”
His eyes burned with something raw. “You don’t get it. You’ve never gotten it.”
“I’ve tried, Chris!” you yelled. “I’ve stayed. Through everything. Through the panic attacks and the drinking and the nights you came home and didn’t say a word. I stayed. And you’re still shutting me out.”
“Because it’s not your job to fix me,” he said, voice raised now too. “I never asked you to stay!”
You flinched like he hit you, but he didn’t notice. Or didn’t care.
“Well, maybe I shouldn’t have.”
He took a step forward. “Then leave. Go run to Matt, if you love him so much. He’s better at playing the victim anyway.”
The words hit you like ice. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
Chris’s fists clenched. “It means I see the way you look at him. Everyone does. You’re always so concerned with Matt. Not me. Never me.”
“That’s not true,” you whispered, stunned.
“You think I don’t know what it feels like to be second choice?” His voice cracked. “Even to my own fucking brother.”
The room spun. “You’re not second choice, god why would you even think that. You’re just... you're the one who pushes people away.”
Chris looked at you then. Right through your eyes. And you knew something in him had unraveled.
“Get out,” he said lowly.
You didn’t move. “Chris—”
“I said get out!” he shouted, and when you didn’t back away fast enough, he shoved you.
Hard.
Your feet tripped on the rug and you fell backwards, slamming into the edge of the kitchen island. A sharp, brutal sound cut the air: your body hitting the counter. Your head snapped back against the wood floor.
Time stopped.
Chris’s heart dropped, his face frozen in shock, in horror, in something too late.
You didn’t get up.
You couldn’t.
Your side throbbed where you’d landed, and your head felt like it had cracked open. But it was the look on his face that hurt worse than anything.
Not rage. Not sorrow.
Regret.
“Shit. Shit. Shit,” he whispered, stumbling toward you. “Fuck. Are you-? I didn’t mean to swear. I didn’t mean—”
You flinched as his hand reached for you, and that was when the tears came.
He backed away like you’d burned him.
“I’m sorry,” he breathed. “I didn’t mean to—”
You sat up slowly, clutching your side, dizzy and shaking. “Don’t.”
“I didn’t—please—”
“I said don’t touch me.”
“Let me call someone—Matt—”
You laughed. It was broken and hollow. “Matt. Of course. You’re always calling for help after it’s too late.”
Chris looked like he was breaking. “I didn’t know what I was doing. I was angry—”
“And you hit me,” you whispered. “You pushed me and I hit my head. Do you get that? Do you understand what you just did?”
Tears blurred your vision, but you refused to cry in front of him.
Chris collapsed to his knees, hands over his face. “I didn’t mean to. I didn’t mean to. Please don’t leave.”
But you were already moving.
Pain shot through your side with every step, but you didn’t look back.
Not even when you heard his voice crack behind you, whispering your name like a prayer.
You didn’t stop.
Because love was not an excuse.
And this time, you weren’t going to stay and forgive the person who broke you.
Not even if it destroyed you to walk away.
--
It had been weeks since that night.
Since the fight that left her sobbing against the wall, since his hands shoved her — too hard, too angry — and she went down like a ragdoll. Since her breath got knocked out of her lungs and he’d stood frozen, horrified, like he didn’t know who he was anymore.
She hadn’t answered his calls. Not when he sobbed into the voicemail. Not when he texted, “I don’t know how to fix this. I love you. I’m sorry. Please.”
He didn’t deserve forgiveness. He knew that.
But she still showed up.
He was sitting on the back steps of his house — the ones they used to sneak out of, the ones they’d carved their initials into the summer they first kissed. He looked like a ghost of himself, hoodie pulled over his head, fingers trembling around the coffee mug he hadn’t touched.
When he looked up and saw her, something cracked in his face. Hope. Pain. All of it.
She didn’t say anything.
Neither did he.
For a while, there was just the sound of the wind in the trees, and their silence — thick and aching.
Then she sat down beside him. Not touching. Not close. Just… beside.
He stared at his hands. “I think about it every day.”
She looked down too. “So do I.”
His throat moved, like he was swallowing glass. “There’s no excuse. I could say I was tired or overwhelmed or scared, but none of it matters. I hurt you.”
Her voice was small. “You did.”
His eyes welled. “And I hate myself for it. I will always hate myself for it.”
He turned to her, raw and broken. “But I’ve been going to therapy. I’ve been showing up for the ugly parts of myself. I’m not asking for a reset. I’m asking to be better. To be someone you’re never scared of again.”
Silence again.
Until finally, she whispered, “I was scared of losing you.”
That made his breath catch.
“I loved you,” she added softly. “Still do. That’s the worst part. Even when you pushed me. Even when I cried all night. Even now, I still—” Her voice cracked. “God, I still love you.”
Chris broke.
Not in a loud way. Not with sobs. But in a quiet, trembling exhale, like he’d been holding himself together just long enough to hear that.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered again, voice wrecked. “You didn’t deserve any of it. And I will spend every day proving that I can love you the right way — safely, softly. Without hurting you.”
She looked over at him and saw the guilt carved into his face. The apology he kept whispering even when he thought she couldn’t hear it.
“Okay,” she said.
He blinked. “Okay?”
She nodded. “Not okay like it’s fixed. Not okay like I forget. But okay like… I’m still here. And if you are too, we’ll figure it out.”
Chris reached for her hand slowly — like he wasn’t sure he deserved to.
She let him.
His fingers curled into hers, careful and shaking.
“You still love me?” he asked quietly, like he couldn’t believe it.
“I do,” she said. “And you love me.”
“So much it hurts,” he choked out.
She gave a soft, tired smile. “Then let’s learn to make it not hurt.”
And there, in the pale morning light, sitting on the back steps of the house where everything started — two broken people didn’t fix everything.
But they started trying.
Together.
thank you for the request ♥️
why am i so bad at resolved angst like i had to fully add another section help anyways hope you liked and that if wasnt too much <3
xoxo
-𝒜 💋
taglist - @shadowthesim237 @hunyoucantresistme @angeliolo @chrepsi @imgoing-backto505 @ikyoudreamofme @iluvnicksturniolo @mattswrinkleton @sturniolotripletlover @soplaap @emillionaireee @courta13 @slvt4subchratt @emely9274 @babydollcharsie @kenah-sturniolo @gemzyy @kenah-sturniolo @iluvchr1s @beabadoobeelvur @sturniolo-szn2 @mournfuldeer
as always lmk if you want to be added/taken off the taglist x
my masterlist: here
Reblogged chrepsi
HIS EYES??
I’m so beyond done
Reblogged
TAG GAME !!
Your having a sleepover with the sturniolos
search the following keywords on pintrest and use the first photo that pops up
Sturniolo - this will be the triplet that invited you (if the first pic is a group just scroll till you find an individual one).
pyjamas - these are what your wearing tonight.
board game - you all play until chris accuses matt for cheating
snacks - that you eat when you get the midnight munchies
movie - which you beg to watch together
plush - a cuddle buddy who will protect you while your asleep
Here’s my results to start!
no pressure tags: @bernardsbendystraws @chrattsbrat @sturniolofruitloop @malsmind @ihateemetoo @sturniololuvz
lilasbookshelf-deactivated20250
Ahh this is so cute
omg I love smmmm
we’re playing rupaul monopoly, making pizza (or mini pizzas), and I’m culturing the boys to appreciate tpd😌😌
Heyyy ty for the tag !!
idk who to tag anyone can join 😔😔
Reblogged
"tounge tied"
-matt sturniolo
summery: requested blurb, your rambling again and matt decides to stop you his way
warnings: making out, kissing, fluff
She was pacing again.
matt leaned against the wall, arms crossed, pretending to listen—but mostly, he watched her. The way she moved when she was overthinking. The way she talked too fast, hands flying like she was trying to swat thoughts out of the air.
“I’m just saying, it’s not that weird,” she was saying. “Like, yeah, okay, maybe it’s a little weird that I thought about it, but that doesn’t mean I meant anything by it. People think things all the time. Doesn’t mean they mean them.”
She stopped, turned to him. “Right?”
matt didn’t answer.
She rolled her eyes. “Okay, don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you know something I don’t.”
“I do.”
“What?”
“That you’re full of shit.”
Her mouth opened like she was about to argue—again—but matt was already moving. Two steps, and he was right in front of her. Close enough to see the rise and fall of her chest. Close enough to notice the way she sucked in a breath but didn’t step back.
“You really want to know what’s weird?” he asked, voice low.
She blinked. “What?”
“This.”
Then he kissed her.
No warning. No build-up. Just lips crashing into hers like a dam breaking. And for a second—just a moment—she didn’t move.
Then she did.
She grabbed him by the shirt and dragged him closer like he was the last solid thing in a world spinning out of control. His hands slid to her waist, gripped tight, grounding himself. Her back hit the wall with a soft thud, and she barely noticed. Their mouths moved fast, urgent, like they were making up for all the time they hadn’t done this.
Her hands were everywhere—his shoulders, fingers tangling in his hair hair, tugging at his hoodie like she didn’t know what she wanted, just that she needed more. He kissed down to her jaw, breath hot, lips brushing her skin.
“matt,” she whispered.
He pulled back just enough to look at her. Her lips were swollen, her cheeks flushed, eyes glassy with something wild and messy and real.
“Why’d you do that?” she breathed.
He smirked—just a little, lips still close. “Because you wouldn’t shut up.”
She laughed. Half shocked, half breathless, all heat.
And then she kissed him.
This time slower. Deeper. Not frantic like the first. This one was all tension, slow-burning and dangerous. Her fingers slid into his hair and he groaned softly into her mouth. His hands roamed—her sides, her back, the curve of her waist under the hem of her shirt.
He pressed her harder into the wall and she let him, pulling him down with her as her back arched and their hips met. He felt her gasp more than he heard it. Everything in him lit up like a fuse had been struck.
“You’re ruining everything,” she whispered, kissing him again before he could answer.
“I know,” he said against her lips.
They didn’t stop.
Not when his hands found her thighs, lifting her just enough for her legs to wrap around him. Not when her breath hitched and she broke the kiss with a soft, desperate sound. Not when he leaned into her neck, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses until she was shivering under his touch.
They were best friends. They were idiots.
They were way past the point of no return.
never written a make-out scene or anything spicy before so bear with me
also off-topic but i just spent about 40 minutes making that kiss divider what an underratedly hard thing oh my days.
xoxo
-𝒜 💋
taglist - @shadowthesim237 @hunyoucantresistme @angeliolo @chrepsi @imgoing-backto505 @ikyoudreamofme @iluvnicksturniolo @mattswrinkleton @sturniolotripletlover @soplaap @emillionaireee @courta13 @joanakaulitz @emely9274 @babydollcharsie @kenah-sturniolo @gemzyy @kenah-sturniolo @iluvchr1s
my masterlist: here
Reblogged
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ Chris blurb - "When in doubt, eat it out"
content warnings : pure smut, messy pussy eating, overstimulation english is not my first language!!
Lewd, sloppy slurping noises filled the bedroom as Chris lay between your spread thighs on his bed, your legs hooked over his shoulders as his fingers gripped tightly into your hips, holding you steady as he ate you out like a man absolutely starving to death.
Your mouth lay agape, jaw slack as the muscles in your legs twitched from how many orgasms you've already had, your fingers tangled within the curly bed of Chris's hair, tightening and loosening your grip every now and then with each flick of his tough.
"Ch–chris– I can't– I can't cum again," You whined breathlessly, thigh twitching and trying to close but instead held open by his head not leaving at all, as if he was reluctant to spend even a second away from your pussy.
Though, as you tugged at his curls, earning a groan from him as his mouth left your pillowy cunt, clit all puffy and overworked, you finally have a moment to breathe, chest rising and falling steadily. But as you look down at him, all you're met with are begging baby blues, his cheek pressed against your inner thigh as he pants softly, his hands palming your thighs.
"Please baby, just one more. I just need one more," He practically begs you, his lips pressing hot, open-mouthed kissing along the soft, plush skin of your thighs, his lips covered in the juices of your cunt. You could practically draw puppy ears on him and a wagging tail with how much he was acting like a needy puppy right now.
You let out a groaned whine, letting your head fall back as you thought about it, a shiver rushing up your spine as Chris licked along where your inner thighs met your pelvis, a sensitive area that he knew all too well. You let out a tired, breathy huff of a laugh before finally deciding to give in.
"Ok, fine.. One more, but no more after that–" But before you could even finish your sentence, you felt as his palms slipped to your under thighs before pushing them up, practically folding you as your knees pressed into the mattress, a gasp leaving your lips as your eyes widened.
"C-Chris–!" You whimpered out in surprise, heat rising to your cheeks at the erotic position you were in, but he gave you no room to speak any more as he licked a long stripe along your puffy folds, groaning at the taste before he started lapping at your cunt like a starving dog once more.
"Thank you, baby, thank you– god, thank you.." He murmured pussy-drunk words against your lips, letting your moans and sweet noises fill the room as his hips rutted against the bed, pre-cum staining his boxers as his cock strained against the fabric, humping the mattress like a damn dog as he ate you out just as messy as ever.
Lana's thoughts . . . first writing i'm posting, kind of nervous– hope this is good and you guys like it! <3
Find more of my work here.
© 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒃𝒃𝒚
oh wow
Anonymous asked:
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Reblogged
"you're really leaving?"
-chris sturniolo
warnings: just lowk depressing sad asf angst,
Chris hated the cold.
Always had. The way it sank into your bones, numbed your fingers, turned your breath into smoke. He hated the way it made him feel brittle, like if someone said the wrong thing, he’d snap in half.
But she loved it.
Said it made everything feel clearer. Said it was honest. Cold didn’t pretend to be anything it wasn’t.
So when she texted him, Meet me at the field?, he pulled on his thickest hoodie, shoved his hands in his pockets, and went anyway.
She was already there when he arrived, curled up on the top row of the bleachers like she belonged to the sky. Her hair whipped around her face in the wind, and her cheeks were pink from the cold air.
Chris shoved his hands deeper into his hoodie and climbed the steps to sit beside her, hating the way the metal felt like ice beneath him.
“You’re freezing,” he muttered.
She smiled faintly. “I like it.”
“I know,” he said.
That was the problem.
She liked things that didn’t stay warm. Things that bit back. Things like leaving.
They sat in silence for a while, watching the empty football field stretch out beneath them. The wind howled through the chain-link fence, and Chris pulled his sleeves down over his hands.
She spoke first. “I’m leaving next week.”
He didn’t flinch. Just nodded. “I figured.”
She looked down at her hands, pale against her jeans. “You’re not gonna ask me to stay?”
“I could,” he said quietly. “But you wouldn’t.”
She didn’t deny it.
A gust of wind tore through the bleachers. Chris winced.
She breathed in deep like she couldn’t get enough of the cold. “I don’t know why I always ruin good things.”
Chris swallowed. “You didn’t ruin anything.”
She turned her face to him. Her eyes were wet, but she wasn’t crying—not really. She never did. She just carried sadness like a second skin.
“You’re good,” she whispered. “That’s the worst part.”
He looked at her, really looked at her, and felt something crack in his chest.
“You make it really hard to hate you, you know that?” he said, voice low.
She gave him a sad sort of smile. “That’s not what I want.”
“I know.” His voice broke a little. “But it would be easier.”
A pause. Then:
“I’m scared,” she said.
“Of what?”
“That I’ll leave, and you’ll be okay.”
He turned toward the field again, jaw tight. “I won’t.”
That made her eyes squeeze shut. Like it hurt to hear it. Like it hurt more to believe it.
“I think I’ll still look for you in crowds,” she said. “Even when I know you’re not there.”
He nodded slowly. “I think I’ll still keep a hoodie in my backseat. Just in case.”
“I love the cold,” she whispered.
“I know,” he said again. “I hate it.”
A pause.
“But I’ll miss it anyway.”
That was the thing that broke her.
She leaned into him suddenly, face pressed to his shoulder, and for a second it felt like nothing was ending. Just wind and metal and hearts too full for the moment they were in.
“You’ll forget me,” she whispered.
He shook his head. “I’ll forget to eat before practice. I’ll forget to charge my phone. I’ll forget birthdays, probably. But not you.”
She pulled back slowly, her hands cold as they cupped his face.
Then she kissed his forehead.
And stood.
And walked down the bleachers without looking back.
The wind kicked up again, sharper now. Cruel.
Chris sat there until the sky turned the color of bruises, and the bleachers froze beneath the cold.
He hated the cold.
But he stayed.
Because she had loved it.
And he had loved her.
And maybe that was the same thing.
your crying? so am i
requests are very open and very appreciated ❤️
xoxo
-𝒜 💋
taglist - @shadowthesim237 @hunyoucantresistme @angeliolo @chrepsi @imgoing-backto505 @ikyoudreamofme @iluvnicksturniolo @mattswrinkleton @sturniolotripletlover @soplaap @emillionaireee @courta13 @joanakaulitz @emely9274 @babydollcharsie @kenah-sturniolo @gemzyy @kenah-sturniolo @iluvchr1s
lmk if you want to be added/taken off the taglist x
BEST WRITER EVER 😋