devotedlyteenagemusic - Tumblr blog

devotedlyteenagemusic · 6 days ago

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giggling and kicking my feet, holy shit

「 𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒗𝒆 ’𝒆𝒎 𝒘𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒈 ✧ 𝑪.𝑺 」

ᯓ 𝑰𝒅𝒆𝒂 𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒕 + 𝒑𝒊𝒄𝒔 𝒃𝒚 @malsmind «𝑴𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝑽𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏» ────

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: 𝑺𝑴𝑼𝑻! ⋆ strangers to something ⋆ dirty talk ⋆ pet names ⋆ pussy eating ⋆ munch!chris ⋆ (kinda) mean!chris ⋆ dom!chris ⋆ fingering ⋆ degradation kink? ⋆ praise kink ⋆ edging? ⋆ squirting + more.

𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 𝟑 𝒌

𝑨𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓’𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆: This is a collab with @malsmind (aka my baby momma) It took me 3 business days to write this ’cause I’m so fucking slow like that (ty for being patient Mal, luv uuu).

𝑲𝒆𝒆𝒑 𝑰𝒏 𝑴𝒊𝒏𝒅: English is not my first language!

𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: What happens when Chris actually ends up reading your anonymous confession out loud?

Act 1: Chris is definitely not a munch...

You sat on one of the seats in the third row from the front, nibbling on your bottom lip as you smoothed out your pink t-shirt that had "Certified Munch" written in capital letters on the front. You had incorporated the tee so well in your outfit that no one paid much attention to it—not like they could with all the excitement buzzing in the air.

Your heart thumped against your ribcage in anticipation as you waited for the triplets to appear. The countdown began and everyone went crazy, screaming the numbers as it decreased down to 1.

The cheers were loud when the triplets appeared. Screams of excitement filled the air when they laughed and talked on the microphone, greeting their fans before making themselves comfortable on the sofas.

About 15 minutes in, Chris stood up and brought a briefcase to the table in between the two sofas as Nick and Matt talked about the anonymous confessions from the last tour. Chris handed Nick a few q-cards before walking over to the sofa Matt sat at, handing him half of the remainder of the cards before sitting down beside him.

Nick had the honour to read out the first confession, then it was Chris’ turn.

"It might seem like a hot take and I might be wrong but Chris is definitely not a munch..." As Chris began reading the confession, his brows furrowed, voice getting more quieter with each word as his brain worked to comprehend what he just read out loud.

Your eyes widened slowly when you heard what you wrote being read out loud by none other than Chris himself. You were not expecting him to read yours. You had written the anonymous confession as a joke, thinking they would never read it in front of a whole damn crowd.

The triplets exchanged a glance, confused as to how the card was in there even though they had sorted out which ones to read and which ones to not.

The auditorium filled with giggles from those that understood what it meant and small murmurs from people that weren’t quite getting it.

After a few awkward seconds, Chris burst out laughing, reading the card again as he shook his head in amusement. "Wow... Who even wrote this?" He chuckled, eyes raking the crowd until it landed on you—he knew immediately that it was you.

What gave it away? C’mon now, you were wearing such a bold t-shirt—it’s too much of a coincidence not to be you.

You quickly shook your head no when they asked if you wanted to elaborate. Even though you were the one that wrote such a crude thing, you weren’t ready to confront it or be confronted about it.

Nick and Matt made some jokes here and there before it was Matt’s turn to read out a confession. Chris, however, had an unreadable expression on his face as he looked at the crowd before shifting his attention back to Matt when he started to read the next confession.

Act 2: Meet Chris backstage?

After the show ended, people were getting ready to leave and so were you. That’s when a security guard – you saw when you first entered the stadium – suddenly approached you.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you stood up from your seat with your bag, afraid that you had gotten into trouble from the stunt you pulled with the anonymous confession.

The security guard spoke before you could ask him what was wrong. "Chris asked me to bring you backstage." You froze, blinking rapidly as you muttered out a very confused "what?" making the guy repeat himself.

You couldn’t believe it.

Chris? As in the Christopher Sturniolo asking you to come backstage? Yeah, it had to be a sick joke. But the security guard didn’t look like he was joking and that was messing with your head.

In the end, you followed the security guard backstage, still very much confused and nervous, but now with growing excitement.

As you walked further down a corridor and towards a room labelled "personnel only", the realization that you were indeed meeting Chris was heavy, enough to take your breath away.

As you entered the room, there he was; Chris Sturniolo. Your heart was beating so hard that you could hear it in your ears when he looked up from his phone. A slow smirk plastered on his lips as he stood up from the couch he was sitting on and walked towards you.

The security guard walked out of the room, leaving you two alone in the room. The room felt so small even though it was spacious enough. The air felt thick, enough to make you feel like you were suffocating as you swallowed hard.

"So..." Chris drawled, his head tilting slightly as his eyes crinkled at the corners in amusement. "You’re the one who wrote that munch shit?" He barely hid his amusement, his voice thick with unspent laughter.

You could only nod your head, embarrassed by the sudden unexpected confrontation. Chris’ smirk widened when he took in your nervousness—it only emboldened him.

"What did you mean by that?" He asked on purpose, knowing exactly what you meant but it wouldn’t be so fun to just let it go that easily now would it?

"By what?" You asked back dumbly, your brain short-circuiting as you tried to comprehend the fact that you were talking to Chris. He didn’t even give you a moment to collect yourself as he moved closer, standing so close that you could feel his body heat.

"What did you mean by... not a munch?" His voice was slightly quieter, more intimate as he held eye contact—obviously testing you, wanting to see your reaction.

"You, um, just don’t seem like the type to enjoy giving head...?" Your words came out more as a question, as if you were doubting it yourself. Cursing internally, you let out a barely audible sigh, slightly annoyed by how much you were stammering.

You weren’t usually this nervous or quiet when talking to people, but something about the way he was looking at you; the way he was smirking smugly like he could read your thoughts; the way there was a hint of blatant teasing in his tone—it all left your knees weak.

"Tell me." He began, pausing to make you squirm—which he succeeded in doing. "How do you know if I enjoy eating pussy or not?" He asked bluntly, causing your breath to stutter.

"I don’t know..." You mumbled, feeling wetness pool in your panties from the way he was talking to you. You were getting so damned turned on and Chris wasn’t even doing anything, just asking you a few simple questions.

It was almost laughable how affected you were.

"Well, now I wanna prove to you that I do in fact enjoy it a lot." His smirk widened, knowing damn well what he was doing to you.

He stepped closer until his body touched yours, slowly backing you towards the nearest wall as you blinked rapidly, stumbling slightly as your breath hitched again. "Wha-" The words you tried to say died in your throat before you could say them.

"Jus’ wanna prove you wrong, baby." He said, tilting your face slightly up with his hand and leaning down as if it was the most natural thing in the world. His breath ghosted over your lips, causing them to part subtly.

"Or are you gonna be stubborn and go around spreading bullshit about me when you don’t know shit?" He whispered harshly against your lips and you quickly shook your head no, making him smirk smugly.

"Good girl."

Act 3: Prove ’em wrong

Your head was thrown back in ecstasy, eyes rolling back in your skull as Chris’ mouth devoured your cunt. Your fingers curled in his hair, tugging at the strands as your thighs trembled subtly where it sat on his shoulders.

Chris moaned against your pussy, his fingers digging possessively in the supple flesh of your ass as he pulled you closer to his face.

"So fucking good." He groaned as he pulled back, sitting up. His fingers replaced his mouth, two long digits slowly sliding inside your greedy cunt and curling upwards to rub against that spongy spot that made your eyes roll back involuntarily.

"Here?" He smirked, pressing harder against your sweet spot, eliciting a needy moan from you. "Feels soo good doesn’t it?" He taunted as he started to finger-fuck you, holding your hips down with his free hand to stop you from bucking your hips.

Chris let out an airy chuckle when he heard the desperate noises slipping past your lips. "You’ve to be a little quieter, ma..." He trailed off, his smirk widening as he continued. "Unless you want people to hear what a fucking whore you are."

Your face burned with embarrassment and humiliation, but there was a spark of what seemed like... excitement? The degrading words only succeeded in doubling your pleasure, getting you closer and closer to the edge as you clutched onto the couch cushions for dear life.

"Fuuck, y’hear that?" He groaned, referring to the wet squelches from his fingers ramming into your sopping pussy over and over again. "S’fucking wet... All because of me." He breathed out, trying to hide how much this was affecting him.

He felt your inner muscles flutter around his fingers, your moans growing in both volume and desperation as you got closer to coming undone, but Chris wasn’t done with you yet.

A pathetic whine escaped you when he pulled out his fingers, sucking your juices off of them with a delighted hum. His lips curled at the corners and you knew that he was well aware of what he was doing to you.

"So pretty." He ran his thumb over your swollen, pulsating clit, making you jump slightly from how sensitive you were, a needy whimper tumbling out before you could stop it.

"Such pretty noises," he muttered under his breath, but it was loud enough for you to hear and it sent shivers down your spine. You were sure that Chris felt your body tremble, judging by the way his smirk widened into a smug grin.

"You want more?" He asked, his hands now caressing your thighs as he waited for your reply even though he knew the answer already, but he wanted to hear you say it.

Chris clicked his tongue when you nodded. "Ah-ah, words baby, use your words." You were too far gone to care about how desperate you sounded as you whimpered. "Please, Chris... I need you- your fingers, your mouth- anything, please..."

"Theere you go." He drawled. "Wasn’t so hard now was it?"

His head dipped down again, arms wrapping around your thighs as he pulled you closer to him. His tongue flattened out to lick stripes up your slit before his thumbs spread open your folds. The sight of your glistening pussy made him salivate as he swallowed hard, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

He leaned in and closed his lips around your clit, sucking gently as his fingers prodded at your entrance before slipping inside again. A whiny sound ripped from your throat as your eyes rolled back briefly before closing shut. You were seeing stars from the suction on your clit from his mouth.

Your increasingly loud moans spurred him on, making him redouble his efforts to push you over the edge.

Your body tensed, thighs trembling slightly as your breath hitched—coming in short gasps. Chris groaned against your pussy when he felt your insides contract around his fingers, pulsing rhythmically all while greedily pulling him in deeper.

"Ch-chris-- I’m gonna—ffuuuck--" Your breath hitched, your mouth opening in a silent scream as your eyes snapped open, landing on the delicious sight between your legs.

A low drawn out moan left your lips when the pressure in your stomach finally burst—white-hot pleasure running through your whole body.

Chris gasped softly when a clear liquid sprayed out, making him recoil back from surprise. He blinked, brain short-circuiting as his fingers stilled inside you before finally realising that you were squirting.

"Fuuck, did you just squirt? That’s so fucking sexy." He groaned as his fingers started to pound into you without waiting for a response, purposely curling up to hit your g-spot in hopes to make you squirt again.

You were so sensitive from orgasming that you could feel your second release approaching terrifyingly quickly. Your eyes widened as you clutched onto his arm—trying to ground yourself from the intense pleasure and also to distract yourself to not cum so quickly.

Chris’ head was in between your thighs before you knew it, eating you out like you were his last fucking meal. Your hips bucked—only to get held down by his free hand. You could only lay there and take it as his mouth and fingers worked you to the edge again.

It was a matter of seconds before you were cumming all over his face—quite literally. He wasn’t surprised this time around, just kept eating you out even as you gushed all over him, lapping up your release like it was his favourite ice cream.

You nearly forgot where you were as you moaned loudly until Chris’ hand left your hip and clamped over your mouth instead, effectively muffling your cries of pleasure.

He kept licking and sucking your sensitive bundle of nerves all while his fingers petted your gummy walls until you were boneless, small whimpers being muffled by his hand.

Chris pulled back to admire the sight of your trembling body, proud of his handiwork. His hand and face were coated in your release and the sight made your stomach do somersaults.

He didn’t even need you to tell him that you were wrong with your anonymous confession—he already knew your answer since your body answered it for him. A satisfied smirk plastered on his lips as he walked over to the small table in the corner of the room to retrieve tissues and wet wipes.

He began cleaning up your inner thighs when he came back, making sure you were clean before cleaning up his face, hand and the couch, from your release, watching with a mischievous gleam in his eyes as you shakily wore your lace panties back on.

"Cute shit you got there." He commented, tossing the used wet wipes and tissues in the trash can. "You into that? Cute lacy sets?" He teased, chuckling softly to himself when you nodded, finding you more and more adorable.

Chris was painfully hard, adjusting himself in his pants as he manspread, trying to relieve the tension. He saw you looking at his lap, making him spread his legs more without even realising it.

"You need... um, help? With that?" You gestured vaguely at his lap, running a hand through your hair as you tried to fix it.

Chris just shook his head with a soft chuckle. "Nah, I’m fine, you jus’ worry about fixing your clothes, can’t go around looking so edible." He grinned, and you couldn’t help a chuckle at his words.

Fuck, how much you loved this man.

As you two sat on the couch – fixing yourselves and drinking water – you suddenly remembered that you had an instant film camera in your bag. You quickly walked over to the table to get it as Chris raised an eyebrow at your enthusiasm.

"Can we take a picture?" You asked as you walked back to the couch where Chris was.

"Now? After I ate you out like my life depended on it?" He teased, but didn’t say no as he stood up, running a hand through his hair to fix it but only succeeded in making it messier instead.

Chris took the camera from you as he pulled you into his side, his arm wrapping around your waist before angling the camera to capture you both.

You smiled for the picture, relaxing against him. A short shuttering sound came from the camera before a small picture slowly slid up from the top. Chris took it when it was fully out, shaking it firmly before he held it still in his hand, watching as the ink slowly darkened.

"Can you write your signature too?" You decided to use the opportunity to ask for his signature as well—which he gladly wrote down on the back. He wrote something else after his signature, but you were too dazed from the whole experience to notice it.

Chris handed you the picture and your camera, his fingers lingering on yours for a beat before he took his hands away, looking away as he cleared his throat.

After a few seconds, he looked back at you again with a friendly smile on his face, but his gaze lingered on your lips like he was longing for it—telling a very different story from the smile he was giving you.

You put the picture and camera in your bag, fixing your t-shirt one last time, not even noticing the way he was looking at you.

"Well..." He paused, looking into your eyes when you looked at him, searching yours with his blue ones. "It was a pleasure to meet you-" Before he could say anything else, his phone rang, breaking the moment between you two.

Chris let out a soft sigh when he saw the caller id.

"Nick’s calling me, probably wondering where I am... I gotta go." He flashed you an apologetic smile. "See you around." He pulled you into a quick hug before walking towards the door.

Chris looked back and waved slightly, flashing you a teasing smirk before he walked out of the room, leaving your heart beating rapidly from the encounter.

See you around, huh?

As you walked out of the stadium a few minutes later, you rummaged through your bag and took out the picture, biting back a wide grin as you looked at it. Your heart skipped a beat when you turned the picture around, seeing a phone number written below Chris’ signature with "Let’s keep in touch :)" written beside it.

No. Fucking. Way.

#ophelia's therapy posts #chris sturniolo

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devotedlyteenagemusic · 7 days ago

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dream blunt rotation but im the blunt

#ophelia's therapy posts #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo

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devotedlyteenagemusic · 7 days ago

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at the same damn time!

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #ophelia's therapy posts

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devotedlyteenagemusic · 8 days ago

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Finest he has ever looked mind you

i…. wow.

@sllutty-sturniolo @garfieldlovesu @sturniolo-szn2 @afr8idofrats @pvssychicken @mattsglassezx @ivysturnss @hjvi @lezleeferguson-120 @jensturnss @emely9274 @sheluvsthesturniolos @mattswifeyy @sturnl0ve @loveliest-sturniolo @hereforshitsandgiggles @sturns-mermaid @emillionaireee @sturnl0ve @matts-wife

#chris sturniolo #ophelia's therapy posts

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devotedlyteenagemusic · 8 days ago

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I WANNA RIDE HIS NOSE HOLY FUCK

#chris sturniolo #ophelia's therapy posts

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devotedlyteenagemusic · 8 days ago

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#needthat

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #ophelia's therapy posts

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devotedlyteenagemusic · 8 days ago

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in love ohmygod

guess no one taught him how to be a real man

𝘣𝘴𝘧!𝘤𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘰 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

summary: your boyfriend doesn't know how to treat his girl right, so your bestfriend shows you how a real man does it.

contains ➛ toxic relationship ★ being comforted ★ best friends to something ★ smut ★ cheating ★ sexual tension ★ pussy eating ★ unprotected sex ★ body worshipping ★ squirting ★ dirty talk ★ praising ★ scratching ★ pet names (angel, baby, pretty, beautiful, attagirl, good girl) ★ creampie

wc: 2.8k

english is not my first language!

you and chris sat on your bed, legs crossed, facing each other. his eyes were dark, filled with something you couldn’t quite place—frustration, concern, maybe something else entirely. you pulled your hoodie sleeves over your hands, curling into yourself. you weren’t crying, not really, but there was a tightness in your chest that wouldn’t go away.

“he’s a fucking idiot,” chris muttered, shaking his head.

you let out a hollow laugh. “yeah.”

“no, seriously.” he turned fully toward you, his knee bumping against yours. “the way he talks to you? the way he treats you in front of his friends? the way he—” his jaw clenched, like he couldn’t even get the words out without feeling sick. “he doesn’t deserve you.”

you dropped your gaze to your hands, picking at your sleeve. “it’s not that simple.”

“why not?” he sounded frustrated now, but not at you—never at you. “you deserve to feel good about yourself. you deserve to feel wanted. and he—he makes you feel like shit.”

your throat tightened. you knew he was right, but that didn’t make it easier to hear.

“i don’t know,” you admitted. “i guess i got used to it.” you swallowed hard, your voice quieter now. “he always made me feel like i wasn’t enough. like i should be grateful he even wanted me.”

chris exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “that’s such bullshit.”

you shrugged, forcing a laugh. “maybe he’s right. i—”

“don’t.” his voice was firm, cutting through the air between you. your eyes snapped to his, and something flickered there—something intense. “don’t say that shit about yourself.”

his hand reached out, curling around yours, grounding you.and then, something shifted.

you weren’t sure when it happened, but suddenly, chris was looking at you differently. his thumb brushed over your knuckles, slow, deliberate, like he was memorizing the feeling of your skin against his. his knee pressed into yours, and the warmth of him made your breath hitch. his gaze flickered down to your lips.

“chris?” you whispered.

he exhaled, shaking his head, like he was trying to clear his thoughts. “fuck, i—” his grip on your hand tightened, just for a second, before loosening again. “i just hate that he made you feel this way. i hate that you think this is all you deserve.” his voice was rough, raw, like this was physically hurting him.

“you deserve so much more than that asshole,” he said, shifting closer, his face inches from yours. “you deserve to be treated like you’re everything. because you are.”

your breath caught. his hand lifted, hesitating for a second before tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. his fingers skimmed along your jaw, slow, careful, like he was afraid you’d pull away.

“chris,” you whispered, your pulse hammering.

“tell me to stop.” his voice was quiet, hoarse, like he was holding himself back. “if you don’t want this—if you don’t want me—tell me to stop.”

but you didn’t. you couldn’t.

instead, you leaned in, your entire body burning with something you didn’t know how to name. and then he kissed you.

it wasn’t soft, wasn’t tentative. it was years of something buried, something neither of you had realized was there until now. his hands gripped your waist, pulling you closer, his lips urgent against yours, and you melted into him like you’d been waiting for this forever. his fingers pressed into your hips as he pulled you onto his lap, a low groan escaping him when you settled against him.

“i’m gonna show you,” he murmured against your skin, lips trailing down your jaw. “gonna show you how a real man treats his girl.”

his words sent a shiver down your spine, and for the first time in a long time, you felt wanted. really wanted. like you were enough. like you were everything. and with chris, you believed it.

chris’ hands roamed your back, gripping at the fabric of your hoodie like he needed you closer, like the space between you was unbearable. his lips were insistent, desperate, moving from your jaw down to your neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to your skin.

“chris,” you breathed, fingers curling into his shirt.

he hummed in response, his nose grazing the sensitive spot just below your ear, his breath warm against your skin. “you have no idea how long i’ve wanted to do this,” he admitted, his voice low, husky.

his words sent a pulse of heat through you. “then why didn’t you?”

he pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands still gripping your waist. his eyes were darker now, full of something raw, something hungry. “because i thought you were happy,” he said, his thumb tracing slow circles against your hip. “because i thought he was treating you right. but fuck—when i found out how he really made you feel—” his jaw tightened. “i couldn’t just sit back and watch anymore.”

your heart pounded. “so what now?”

his grip on you tightened. “now,” he murmured, leaning in until your lips were barely touching, “i show you exactly how you should be treated.”

then he kissed you again, deeper this time, his hands slipping under your hoodie, fingertips ghosting over the bare skin of your waist. the contrast between his warmth and the cool air sent a shiver down your spine. his touch was gentle but firm, like he wanted to take his time, like he wanted to savor every second.

“so fuckin' perfect,” he muttered against your lips.

heat pooled in your stomach at the way he said it, like he meant it, like he saw you in a way no one else ever had. you weren’t used to hearing things like that, weren’t used to feeling wanted like this—like you were everything. and when he looked at you like that, touched you like that, you never wanted to feel any other way.

chris’ hands roamed your sides, slow and reverent, like he was memorizing every inch of you. his lips moved back to your jaw, trailing soft, open-mouthed kisses down the column of your throat, like he couldn’t get enough of you. every touch, every brush of his fingers, sent a wave of warmth through you.

“so fucking perfect,” he murmured again, his voice thick with something almost like awe. “don’t ever let me hear you say you’re not.”

his hands gripped your waist tighter, pulling you against him like he needed you close, like the space between you was unbearable. “you don’t even see yourself the way i do,” he whispered, his lips moving along the sensitive skin just below your ear. “you’re everything, baby. every fucking thing.”

your breath hitched at the way he said it, like it was the truest thing in the world.

“all those times he made you feel small? made you doubt yourself?” chris shook his head, his fingers slipping beneath your hoodie, gliding over the soft skin of your stomach. “he was blind. fucking stupid. because you—” he pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes burning with something intense, something deep. “you’re the most beautiful girl i’ve ever seen.”

heat spread through your body, your heart pounding against your ribs. “chris—”

he kissed you again, slow and deliberate, his lips moving against yours like he was savoring the taste of you. “you deserve it,” he murmured, his hands sliding up your sides, his thumbs brushing just beneath your ribs. “you deserve to be touched like you’re made of fuckin’ gold.”

his hands moved higher, tracing the shape of you with something close to reverence. “every single inch of you is fucking perfect,” he breathed, pressing his forehead against yours. “i need you to believe that. need you to know how much you deserve.”

“chris…” you exhaled shakily, overwhelmed by the way he was looking at you, touching you, speaking to you like you were the most precious thing he’d ever held.

“nah, let me.” he whispered, his lips brushing against yours again. “let me show you how you should’ve been treated all along.” chris kissed you again, slower this time, like he wanted to take his time, like he wanted to make sure you felt every bit of him. his hands moved with purpose, never rushing, never taking—just giving. his thumbs traced soft circles into your hips, grounding you, holding you like you were something fragile, something precious.

his lips traveled down your jaw, pressing gentle, open-mouthed kisses to your neck. he groaned softly when you tilted your head for him, giving him more. “so good f’me,” he breathed, his voice dripping with admiration. “so good. so sweet. so fucking perfect for me.”

your breath hitched at the way he spoke, at the way his hands roamed your body like he was memorizing every inch of you. his fingers skimmed beneath your hoodie again, but this time, he tugged at the hem, glancing up at you for permission.

“let me see you,” he whispered, his eyes dark, filled with something raw. “please.” there was no demand in his voice, no expectation—just a quiet, aching need.

so you let him.

he pulled the hoodie up and over your head, his breath catching the moment you were bare before him. his hands traced the newly exposed skin, slow, reverent, his fingers following every dip, every curve.

“god,” he exhaled, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “you’re so fucking beautiful.”

you opened your mouth to argue—to say something self-deprecating, something you had grown used to believing—but chris wasn’t having it.

“don’t,” he said firmly, his hands tightening on your waist. “don’t even think about it. i see that look in your eyes.” his lips found your collarbone, then your shoulder, kissing you like he was trying to make you believe every single word. “i want you to feel it,” he whispered against your skin. “i want you to know how fucking perfect you are.”

his hands roamed your body like he was memorizing every inch of you, like he was making up for all the times someone else had made you feel small. his touch wasn’t greedy, wasn’t impatient—it was worship. pure, unfiltered worship. his lips traveled lower down, kissing over your chest. every touch, every graze of his lips against your skin felt so full of love, admiration. slowly, chris slid off the couch, dropping to his knees in front of you. the carpet was rough under him, but he didn’t care. your breath hitched, lips parting slightly, but you didn’t pull away. chris took that as his cue. he shifted closer, his hands sliding down to rest on your thighs, the skin soft against his palms.

he could feel the heat of you, and it sent a jolt through him. “is this okay?”

you nodded, barely perceptible, your eyes locked on his. chris didn’t waste time. he leaned in, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to the inside of your knee, then trailed his lips higher, inching up your thigh. your skin was smooth, tasting faintly of salt and that damn vanilla scent that drove him wild. he heard your breath catch again, a soft sound that made his chest tighten. he parted your legs gently, his fingers brushing the edge of your shorts as he settled between them.

“fuck, angel,” he breathed against your skin, his hands sliding up to the hem of your shorts, pausing to look up at you. “you’re so beautiful. he doesn’t deserve you. not even close.” he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your shorts and tugged them down, revealing a pair of black lace panties that hugged your hips just right. his mouth watered at the sight. he pressed a kiss to the thin fabric, right over your center, and felt you shiver.

“fuck…” your voice was a whisper, shaky but needy. it was all the encouragement he needed. he peeled the panties down your legs, tossing them aside, and took a moment to just look at you. your pussy was gorgeous—soft pink folds glistening with the first signs of arousal, clit peeking out like a little jewel. he groaned low in his throat, his cock already straining against his jeans.

“goddamn, you’re perfect,” he said, his hands spreading your thighs wider. he leaned in, his tongue flicking out to taste you, and fuck, you were sweet—warm and slick against his mouth. he started slow, lapping at your folds, savoring every tremble you gave him. his lips closed around your clit, sucking gently, and you gasped, fingers tangling in his messy brown hair.

“mhmmm,” he murmured against you, the vibration making your hips buck. “that’s it, let me take care of you.” he ate you out like a man starved, his tongue dipping into your entrance, then dragging back up to circle your clit. your breathing grew ragged, little moans spilling from your lips, and chris drank it all in. he wanted you to feel every second of this, to know how much you were worth.

when you were dripping, thighs quaking under his hands, he pulled back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. your eyes half-lidded, cheeks flushed, and chris couldn’t resist. he crawled up your body, shedding his shirt as he went. he kissed you deep, letting you taste yourself on his tongue, and you melted into him, hands clutching his shoulders.

“gonna show you how a real man treats his girl..” he whispered against your lips, unbuttoning his jeans and shoving them down.

his cock sprang free, thick and hard, the tip already slick with precum. he lined himself up, rubbing against your wet heat, and pushed in. inch by inch. you were tight, warm, and so fucking perfect he had to grit his teeth to keep from losing it right then.

“shiiiiit, pretty, you feel so good. so fuckin' perfect.” he moved slow, sensual, rolling his hips to hit every spot inside you. your legs wrapped around him, pulling him deeper, and he groaned, burying his face in your neck. “you’re everything,” he said, his voice rough with need. “so beautiful, so smart, so fucking sexy. he’s a fuckin' idiot for not seeing it.”

your nails dug into his back, urging him on, and chris picked up the pace, thrusting harder, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room. “attagirl,” he growled, gripping your hips to angle just right. “take it, baby. fuckin' deserve to feel good.” he fucked you with purpose now, rougher but still loving, his hands roaming your body—squeezing your tits through your thin tank top, sliding down to grip your ass.

“you’re so perfect,” he panted, slamming into you, watching your face twist with pleasure. “this pussy—fuck. so wet, so tight, so perfect. all for me.” he could feel your walls tightening around him, your moans turning to cries, and he grinned, proud. “cum for me, beautiful. show me how good i make you feel.”

and you did, hard, your body arching under him as you shattered. chris didn't stop, his pace never faltering as you clung to him, whining as your nails dug into his shoulderblades, dragging them down his back. the second wave of pleasure built fast, a tight coil in your core, and you felt someting shift—somthing wild and unstoppable.

“chris—chris—i'm gonna—f-fuck—” you tried to warn him between gasps, voice breaking as your body tensed, eyes squeezing shut. chris kept going, groaning at the feeling of your nails marking his skin, he knew it, he felt it.

“i know baby, i know. c'mon give it to me, you can do it.” he breathlessly encouraged, slamming into you harder.

and then it hit. a hot rush soaking the both of you, your thighs trembling as you cried out, the release crashing over you like a wave. chris's eyes dart down to where your bodies were connected, a huge grin spreading across his face.

“fuuuuuck, that's a good girl. fuckin' look at that..” he groaned, thrusts turning erratic as he chased his own orgasm.

“so. fuckin'. perfect.” he slammed into you, once, twice, three times, at every word, and then chris followed, spilling inside you with a guttural groan. he collapsed beside you, pulling you close, his lips brushing your forehead. “you’re a goddess,” he whispered, meaning every word. “don’t ever forget it.”

𖦹✮⋆˙ @emely9274 @impossiblecollectorcat @staargazr @sllutty-sturniolo @shadowthesim237 @sturns-mermaid @courta13 @grace-sturnz @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan @ncm9696 @rcklessheavn @sophand4n4 @amyiasturnl @ivysturnss @loser41ifee @helpimateenagerinlove @joanakaulitz @colorthecosmos444 @tits4matt @pasteldreams @h3arts4nat @sweetshuga

#ophelia's therapy posts #chris sturniolo

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devotedlyteenagemusic · 8 days ago

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please

take it out on you, and your best friend too.

need this as a fic IMMEDIATELY . 😫😫

pic from @chrattvibe 💌

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #Ophelia's Therapy Posts

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devotedlyteenagemusic · 10 days ago

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DEALER!CHRIS DEALER!CHRIS DEALER!CHRIS

I REPEAT

DEALER!CHRIS DEALER!CHRIS DEALER!CHRIS

FUCKBWIEJFNASLK

#Chris sturniolo #ophelia's therapy posts

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devotedlyteenagemusic · 10 days ago

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this shit made me cry, not even gonna lie

chris got nick and matt’s names tattooed on his ankles 🥹

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #ophelia's therapy posts #surprise party tour

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devotedlyteenagemusic · 11 days ago

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I need it... I need it so bad, it's not even funny

ꗃ₊˚⊹ Obsessive .ᐟ Matt being obsessed with your cum...

⚠︎ Smutty blurb. Matt being obsessive as fuck, fem!recieving, insane overstimulation, matt da munch!

It’s fucking humiliating.

The sounds falling from your lips are brutally pitiful, your whimpers and screams echoing in his bedroom as his own noises of pleasure vibrate against you.

He’s been at this for hours, but he was desperate to have you like this—pinned to his bed, his hands firm on your hips, keeping you in place as he absolutely devours you.

“Matt! Ma–att!” you screech, your legs attempting to snap shut as you feel his tongue dart around your pulsating clit, his fingers curling deep inside of your sobbing cunt as another wave of euphoria crashes over you.

“Fuck.” he pulls away for a quick breath, observing how abused your pussy looks.

A sickening pride washes over him. He leans forward, slurping and sucking anything he can despite your pitiful cries of overstimulation.

Matt loves making you feel good, but something about the way you taste drives him absolutely insane.

Fervently, his tongue fucks into your wet entrance, obnoxiously licking up everything he can, trying to drive his tongue as deep as it can possible go—but it’s not enough.

He needs more, he craves more—obsessively.

Matt’s palms flatten on your inner thighs, pushing your legs back onto the duvet as he runs his tongue along your folds, flattening it against your sensitive clit, smiling against you as he feels your hands knot into his hair.

“You can take it for me, sweetheart.” he coos, petting over your quivering thighs as you let out a choked affirmation.

He’s not stopping anytime soon.

Thank you for reading! Any and all interaction is deeply appreciated. I’m so fucking horny for Matt because of his damn hair recently and FUCK I NEED TO PULL IT BITCH OMFG?! Anyhow….

·˚ ༘ ʚ 𝑾𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒂��𝒅 𝒃𝒊𝒈 𝒕𝒊𝒕𝒔, 𝑹𝒐𝒔𝒆 𖧧

꒰ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ๑ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ๑ 𝐂𝐎𝐏𝐘𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 ꒱

#ophelia's therapy posts #matt sturniolo

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devotedlyteenagemusic · 17 days ago

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Me when Chris does literally anything

He could be staring out into space and I’d still fold

#ophelia's therapy posts #chris sturniolo

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devotedlyteenagemusic · 18 days ago

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when I tell you this is the shit I bring up with my best friend when I talk about Chris with her, and she talks about Matt... like, you perfectly put into words the shit that goes on in my head

𝑳𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝑺𝒆𝒕 | 𝑪.𝑺

― 𝒂 𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 𝒃𝒍𝒖𝒓𝒃

▶︎ ၊၊||၊ FREAK , DOJA CAT

chris sturniolo! x f!reader

WARNINGS : smut, grinding, submissive to dominant, suggestive, eating you out, lots of dirty talk, usage of "slut"

word count : 2.7k♡

―The dim motel room hums with tension, the only sounds filling the air are the distant hum of passing cars and Chris Sturniolo’s ragged breaths. He’s sprawled beneath you, his wrists bound to the headboard with silk scarves, his usual cocky arrogance replaced by something raw, something simmering just beneath the surface.

His dark eyes flicker between defiance and submission as he tests the restraints, muscles flexing beneath smooth, tanned skin. But they hold firm—for now.

You lean down, letting the delicate lace of your lingerie brush against his bare chest, teasing him with your heat without giving him what he so clearly wants. His breath stutters when your lips ghost over his jaw, a whisper of a kiss, nothing more.

"You look good like this," you murmur, dragging your nails down his torso, reveling in the way his body tenses beneath your touch. "All tied up. All mine."

Chris jerks at the restraints again, frustration flickering in his gaze. "Yeah? Keep talking, sweetheart. See how long this lasts."

But you don’t take the bait. Instead, you press your hips down, grinding against his cock just enough to make him curse under his breath, his fingers twitching uselessly above his head. You can feel how much he wants you, how much he hates not being the one in control, not being the one to manhandle you, not being the one to make you whimper and writhe underneath him.

He glares up at you, chest rising and falling with uneven breaths.

"You really think this is gonna end well for you?"

You only giggle, dragging your lips down his neck, savoring the way his body betrays him—how his breath hitches, how his hips lift instinctively toward yours despite the sharp edge of defiance in his eyes.

"I think," you whisper against his skin, "that you're not nearly as in charge as you like to pretend."

Chris grits his teeth, tilting his head back against the pillows, his fingers curling into fists above his head. "You're playing a dangerous game, sweetheart."

"And yet," you purr, shifting just enough to make him groan, "you're the one tied up."

You trail kisses lower, letting your lips and the ghost of your breath tease down his torso, enjoying every sharp inhale, every flex of frustration. You’ve never seen him like this before—so restless, so on edge, caught between irritation and something far more primal.

And you love it.

Settling yourself just above his hips, you rock against him, slow and deliberate, just enough friction to make his breath stutter, to make his cock swell harder and harder against you, but not nearly enough to satisfy. His jaw tightens, hands clenching into fists above his head, and for the first time, he looks wrecked—not from pleasure, not yet, but from restraint.

"Fuck," he breathes, eyes dark and hooded as he glares up at you. "You think this is funny, ma?"

You smirk, dragging your nails down his chest again, watching as his abs tense under your touch. "I think you hate not being in control."

Chris jerks at the restraints, a sharp tug that has the scarves tightening around his wrists. A muscle in his jaw ticks, his frustration barely concealed beneath that ever-present cockiness. "Let me go," he demands, voice low, rough.

But you just tilt your head, pretending to consider it as you grind down again, rolling your hips with just the right amount of pressure to let your dampness coat against his cock.

His head falls back against the pillow, a curse slipping past his lips.

"Not yet," you murmur, leaning down, letting the lace of your lingerie tease against his bare skin. You kiss your way up his chest, slow and languid, savoring the way he twitches beneath you, the way his body betrays him no matter how hard he tries to fight it.

"You're fucking pushing it baby," Chris growls, lifting his hips involuntarily as you press down harder, rolling against him in a way that makes his whole body tense.

"Am I?" you whisper, lips brushing against the corner of his mouth.

"Because it looks like you're enjoying this."

His breathing is ragged now, his eyes burning into yours, as your hands find his cock, the lacy fabric the only barrier as you rub against him in two ways. Your hands move up and down his swollen shaft, pumping his cock as he begins to whine, moaning at the softness of your skin against his sensitive dick.

The sensation is too much for him to bear, and he groans in pleasure, arching his back as he presses his hips forward, seeking more contact with your hands. His cock twitches and throbs against your palms, leaking precum that you lick off eagerly, tasting the salty fluid on your tongue.

Your fingers slide up and down his shaft, feeling the heat radiating from his body. His hips buck against you, his breathing growing heavier as you continue to tease him. You can feel the tension building in his muscles, the anticipation of what's to come.

And then you feel it.

A subtle shift. A flex of his arms. The unmistakable tug of fabric loosening.

Your smirk falters for just a second.

Chris sees it.

And then, with one sharp pull, the silk comes undone.

Before you can react, before you can scramble away, he's got you—his hands gripping your waist, flipping you over so fast the breath rushes from your lungs.

Now it's you beneath him, wrists pinned, lace-clad body caged under his own. The smugness on his face is back in full force, but now there’s something darker behind it, something darker behind him as he holds you, his fingers skimming up against your breasts.

"You should’ve tied those knots tighter, baby." he muses, tilting his head as his grip tightens just enough to make you squirm.

You swallow, trying to suppress the shiver that runs through you, but he feels it. Of course he does. His smirk deepens.

"That’s cute, baby," Chris murmurs, dragging his lips down the column of your throat, his teeth grazing just enough to make your pulse spike.

"But now, it’s my turn to have some fun."

His grip on your wrists tightens, pressing them into the pillow above your head as he looms over you, chest rising and falling with slow, measured breaths. He’s still for a moment, just watching you—soaking in the way your body tenses beneath him, the way your lips part as anticipation coils thick in the air between you.

Then, without warning, he rolls his hips down against you—slow, deliberate, forcing you to feel every inch of him through the thin fabric of your lace set, the only fabric separating your bodies.

A gasp escapes your lips, and his smirk deepens.

"Yeah?" Chris taunts, voice dark and rough. "Doesn’t feel so good when you’re the one who can’t do anything about it, huh slutty girl?"

You bite down on your lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response, but he sees right through you. He leans down, his nose brushing against your cheek, his breath hot against your skin.

"You were real confident a second ago," he murmurs, rolling his hips again, slower this time, watching the way your breath catches. "What happened to all that teasing, ma?"

You tug at your wrists, testing his grip, but it’s useless—he’s got you pinned, completely at his mercy, rubbing the swollen head of his cock nearly through your folds.

Chris chuckles, dragging his lips down your neck, his teeth grazing sensitive skin before sucking lightly, just enough to make you arch against him. "Nah," he mutters against your throat. "I think I wanna take my time with you."

He shifts, one hand releasing your wrists only to trail slowly down your body, fingers tracing the lace covering you. The heat of his touch burns even through the fabric, sending a shiver straight down your spine.

"Thought you were in charge tonight," he muses, thumb pressing lightly against your hip, his eyes locked onto yours. "Guess not."

Then he pulls back just enough to look at you properly, his expression smug, knowing. "You gonna be good for me now?"

You should fight it. You should throw some smart remark back in his face. But the way he’s looking at you—the way his body presses against yours, warm and solid and utterly dominant—has your words catching in your throat.

Chris smirks, dragging his fingers up your thigh, toying with the edge of your lace panties.

"That’s what I thought."

His fingers trace slow, deliberate patterns along the delicate lace, teasing but never quite giving you what you want. He watches you the whole time, drinking in the way your breath hitches, the way your body reacts to every barely-there touch.

"You liked having control, didn’t you?" Chris murmurs, voice thick with amusement, his fingertips ghosting over your hip. "Liked watching me struggle, seeing me all tied up for you."

He presses down again, rolling his hips just enough to make your back arch, to make the heat pooling in your stomach tighten.

"But now look at you," he muses, tilting his head. "Squirming. Silent." His fingers skim the edge of your lace panties, tracing the waistband with infuriating slowness.

"Where’d all that attitude go, baby?"

You swallow hard, fighting the urge to snap back. But he sees the fire in your eyes, sees the defiance still lingering beneath the haze of arousal, and it only makes his smirk grow.

"You still think you're in control, don’t you?" he murmurs. "That’s cute."

Then, without warning, he grips your hips and thrusts down against you—hard enough to tear a gasp from your lips.

Chris hums in approval. "Yeah," he mutters, rolling his hips again, watching the way you react, your fingers digging into the sheets. "That’s more like it."

His free hand moves, sliding up your body, tracing the curves wrapped in lace, lingering at the straps of your bra. His fingers hook beneath one, tugging it down slowly, deliberately, his lips twitching as goosebumps rise in the wake of his touch.

"You know," he muses, "I should make you beg for it."

You suck in a breath, shaking your head slightly, refusing to give him that satisfaction.

Chris chuckles, low and dark. "Still holding out on me?" His fingers dip lower, pressing over the lace between your thighs, his touch just light enough to make you whimper, his fingers lingering directly over all of your wetness. "That’s cute too."

His fingers slip beneath the lace at your hips, toying with the fabric, feeling how damp it already is. He hums in satisfaction, dark amusement flickering in his gaze as he glances up at you.

"All that teasing, and you’re already this wet?" he taunts, dragging the material aside, his fingers barely skimming over your heat. "You must’ve really liked having me tied up."

Chris shifts lower, lips tracing a path down your stomach, his hands spreading your thighs apart as he settles between them. The anticipation coils in your stomach, thick and heady, as his breath ghosts over your bare skin.

Then, without warning, his mouth is on you.

A sharp gasp escapes your lips as his tongue flicks against your desperate pussy, slow at first, teasing, savoring the way you react beneath him. He groans low in his throat, like he’s been starving for this, gripping your thighs tighter as he pulls you closer into his mouth, his lips fanning out against your clit, savoring in-between your slick folds.

"You taste so fucking good," he mutters against you before diving back in, his tongue working you over with maddening precision.

Your hands fly to his hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands, and he chuckles against you, the vibration sending another wave of pleasure through your body. His tongue flicks, circles, presses in deep, and you can’t stop the soft, breathy moan that escapes you.

Chris pulls back just slightly, lips glistening as he smirks up at you. "Thought you were gonna fight me on this," he teases, voice husky. "Guess you don’t have much to say now, huh?"

Then he dives back in, licking a long, slow stripe before sucking gently, his hands gripping your thighs tighter when you try to squirm away from the overwhelming sensation.

"Stay still," he murmurs, voice muffled against you. "I’m not done with you yet."

Chris’s grip on your thighs tightens, spreading you open even wider as he settles between them. The heat of his breath makes you shiver, anticipation winding tight in your stomach as his lips hover just above your slick pussy. He pauses for a moment, savoring the way your body reacts—how your breath catches, how your fingers dig into the sheets, how your thighs tense beneath his hold.

Then, without warning, his tongue flicks out, the first slow, teasing stroke against your clit sending a sharp jolt of pleasure straight through you. A gasp escapes your lips, your back arching slightly, but Chris just chuckles, the vibrations adding another layer of sensation that makes your thighs tremble.

"Sensitive, huh?" he muses, voice thick with amusement. "Guess I should take my time with you."

And he does—his tongue moving in slow, lazy circles against your clit, barely applying pressure, keeping you on edge. His ring-covered fingers slide up your thighs, thumbs pressing into your skin, keeping you exactly where he wants you as his tongue works you open. He hums against you, like he’s savoring the taste, and the sensation sends another shudder through you, the sound almost rippling through your cunt as his lips curl against your drenched cunt.

Your fingers fly to his hair, tangling in the soft strands, pulling him closer. He groans at that, the sound vibrating against you, and then his tongue flattens, dragging a long, deep stroke that makes you whimper.

"That’s it," he murmurs against you, voice smug. "Let me hear you ma, let out those slutty fuckin' noises f'me."

He wraps his lips around your clit, sucking gently before flicking his tongue again, faster this time, more deliberate. Your hips jerk involuntarily, seeking more friction, but his hands tighten, pinning you in place.

"Nuh-uh," he mutters, pulling back just enough to glance up at you, his lips glistening. "You’re not running from this. You wanted to play with me, sweetheart—now you’re gonna take it."

Before you can respond, he dives back in, licking deeper this time, his tongue pressing into you in slow, deliberate strokes. His nose nudges your clit with every movement, sending waves of pleasure crashing through you. Your thighs try to clamp around his head, but he growls low in his throat, forcing them apart again, his fingers digging into your skin.

"You taste so fucking good," he groans, his voice rough with hunger. "Could stay down here all night, eatin' this fuckin' pussy until you can't even walk, huh?"

And he proves it, his tongue relentless, working you over with devastating precision—switching between slow, languid strokes and sharp, focused flicks that have you gasping, your body tightening, heat pooling low in your stomach.

Chris notices. Of course he does. He feels the way your thighs tremble, the way your grip in his hair tightens, the way your breath turns ragged. He smirks against you, pressing one last deep, swirling lick before sucking your clit into his mouth, applying just the right amount of pressure.

That’s what does it.

A strangled moan tears from your throat as the tension snaps, pleasure crashing over you in waves so intense it leaves you breathless. Your entire body tenses, then melts beneath him, the aftershocks making you shudder as he licks you through it, eating your pussy as if he's crazed, drawing out every last bit of your release until you’re squirming from the overstimulation his tongue gives you.

Finally, Chris pulls back, licking his lips as he watches you with dark, satisfied eyes. His hands slide up your thighs, gripping your waist as he drags himself back over you, his body pressing against yours, hot and solid.

"That’s one," he murmurs, his breath teasing against your still-sensitive skin. His smirk is pure sin as he grips your chin, tilting your face toward his. "I hope you didn’t think we were done."

thank you for reading! feeding u cuties good this weekend & we're not even done just like chris said

𖧧 𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒆 𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

🖇 - @chriss-slutt @55sturn @chrysiie @il0vey0um0st @trustinsturniolos @v4lsturn @shitttttypoet @mattsplaything @emely9274 @pip4444chris @whore4mattsturniolo @sweetshuga @courta13 @divinesturn @aaliyahsturniolo @chris-hallelujah @mi-co-uk @ivysturnss @sweetpeabreezyree @christophersgf @bluestriips @angelic-sturniolos111 @shadowthesim237 @bee-43 @eeyoresturnz @ellssturn

#ophelia's therapy posts

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devotedlyteenagemusic · 18 days ago

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I'm not even kidding, I have never read something this good in my life. foaming at the mouth, gnawing at the bars of my enclosure, like, literally, I will be rereading this forever @whor3ing I think I'm in love with you girl