stursweet - Tumblr blog

[stursweet]

i’ve rose from the dead to discuss chris whole ass COCK HANGIN WITH NO SHAME ON WEDNESDAY LIKE FUCK HELLO😭 like he def know.. how tf could he not?? like please i know u feel it swingin like??? and i know he know that we know too cause like. it’s literally right there and he know how batshit crazy we are. i’m telling yall he provoking us wit dat horse cock right in front of the fucking camera what a slut like please?? that shit mid thigh?? i’m LAUGHINGGG he dgaf. and bitch why some of yall shocked?? of course that shit hangs!! i BEEN SAYING!!!!

[stursweet]

GUYS ?!

Peter… the horse is here.. 😦

I actually just shed a tear (down my leg). I need him in ways that are extremely concerning to feminism. Salivating.

I mean we been knew but…

[stursweet]

this is the longest shit my dumb ass has ever written 🤗 get in my inbox and tell me how u feel🧁🧁🧁

DRESS

pairing : matt x f!reader

warnings : sexual content obviously ARE WE SHOCKED🤣, high matt and reader, slight pain kink

summary : high sub!matt gets real needy at a party 🤗

an: y’all are SLUTS! all up in my inbox and my poll begging me for sub matt. i love it. feast up bitch. i love u. 💖💖 send me recs or just talk to me in my inbox if u want <33 also let me know if you want some sub chris. you know my ass will write for my babygirl any day. LOVEU

the air is stuffy with smoke and warmth. you’re glowing with a thin layer of sweat, your skin sticky. it’s difficult to breath, the emanation of everyone’s body heat and expelled smoke gently strangling you.

you and matt hadn’t planned to stay this long. you’d dragged him out of the house earlier that night - a mutual friends house, promising him you’d only be there a few hours, and that he’d enjoy himself.

it wasn’t hard to get him to come - he was following you out of the door eagerly, (nearly tripping on his own feet), especially after you slipped your small dress on.. his favorite.

that dress.. the way it clung to your hips, the way your tits were practically spilling from the top.. just taunting him, urging him to beg and fall at your feet, pleading for just one touch.

he’d been a mess before he’d smoked. he could barely look at your face in conversation - his eyes falling and tracing over your body, his pink lips parted slightly in awe. numerous times you had to dip your finger under his chin and redirect his focus to your face, to which he’d try desperately to sneak your finger past his lips and into his mouth - swirling his tongue around the digit just to get a rise out of you and letting go with a pop.

this only worsened when he had a hit of the joint you’d passed him, of course. he didn’t smoke often - it usually made him paranoid. but, something about the way the smoke spilled from your mouth as you exhaled, your glistening chest falling as you did so.. it made him want a hit. multiple.

so now, he’s sat at your feet - you sit on the living room couch, playing with his hair mindlessly as he kneels down before you, his arms hugging your thighs, his cheek pressed against the soft skin. he’s grinning to himself, his eyes shut. the party continues around you, the music muffled through the walls, the air hazy.

he wasn’t paranoid this time - only light, calm, amused by the smallest things. you reach down, rubbing your thumb against his cheek affectionately. he smiles, raising his cheek from your thigh to look at you, resting his chin on the skin now instead.

his eyes are tinted pink, as are his cheeks. he smiles at you sweetly - reminding you just how perfect his teeth are..

how perfect he is.

“you look so pretty,” he whispers, his speaking somewhat slower than usual. he taps his fingers along your thighs, his chin still resting on them as he looks up at you through his eyelashes. your stomach tightens at the sight.

you smile - scratching his head gently, playfully. “so do you,” you reply, watching as his cheeks grow even pinker from the praise.

someone plops down onto the couch right beside you, but neither of you pay them any mind.

“you think so?” he asks, hoping to pull more compliments from your lips - he craved them, your tone dripping with honey.

you run your thumb across his bottom lip - soft and ridiculously pink. he’s so beautiful; disgustingly so. you smile.

“of course i do,” you reply, voice smooth and carrying a hint of suggestion. his stomach flips. he smiles even wider, pressing a wet, open mouth kiss to your thigh - groaning softly against the skin.

“so soft,” he whispers against your thigh, his voice slightly cracking. he presses another kiss, and another, and another - peppering your thigh with warm, open mouth kisses.

seeing him on his knees in front of you, high and needy, does not help to stop the growing ache in between your legs. you smile, reaching down and ruffling his hair.

“not here,” you whisper, watching as his mouth against your thigh becomes messier, leaving wet trails of saliva across your skin.

he moans in protest against your skin, laying his tongue flat licking a stripe across your thigh.

“ ‘s not fair,” he whispers, still making a mess with his mouth all over your thigh shamelessly, despite so many of his friends and acquaintances flooding the space.

“you’ve been torturing me all day,” he whines, his face pressed into your thigh as he desperately tries to satisfy his body’s need to touch you.

you smile. you know you have been. denying him of any touches, wearing that dress..

“i’m not meaning to baby,” you lie, running your fingers through his hair, your nails grazing his scalp softly.

he moans shakily against your skin at the touch.

he swirls his tongue against the skin of your thigh again, groaning softly against you - the taste of you only making him ache worse.

“please let me touch you,” he whispers, slow and cracking with need. he looks up at you, eyes red and lips pink and parted with desperation. you smile, shaking your head.

“i said not here.” you reply, causing him to pout, whining in frustration against your leg. you grin.

“i’ll make you feel better when we’re alone,” you add, in hopes to calm him down - hold him over for the time being.

he smiles that dopey smile again, eyes glazed over.

“there’s nobody upstairs,” he suggests, his eyes pleading with you. he pouts, knowing you often give in when he does so.

you smile.

“you want me to fuck you in my friends bathroom?” you ask, tone laced with amusement at his neediness.

his face lights up at your words - the thought of you letting him be inside you never crossing his mind. at most, he’d thought he’d get your mouth; and that was best case scenario. he tries to contain his excitement.

he nods frantically, lifting his chin from your thigh to look at you better. he’s still on his knees in front of you, need and desperation written all over his face.

“yes, please. i’ll be quiet, i swear.. i-i’ll be so good, i promise-“ he rambles, his begs symphonic to your ears. his pleas are whiney, eager - and loud.

you reach down, interrupting his pleas with your palm. his eyes widen, and he fights to keep his tongue in his mouth and not run it along your palm greedily.

“you’re already not being quiet. why should i believe you’ll be quiet then?” you taunt, watching as he floods with panic at the thought of you denying him again.

he drops his voice to a shaky whisper, breathing heavy.

“i- i promise i will,” he chokes out. “a-and, you can cover my m-mouth.. j-just like that, if i’m not.”

you smile at his words, giving him a small nod, leaning down to whisper against his ear. your tits practically press against his lips, and he bites back a moan low in his throat.

“start walking upstairs.” you whisper against his ear, your lips brushing against his skin. you don’t even finish with your order fully before he’s standing up from his spot on his knees before you, walking quickly for the stairs, almost tripping on his feet. you laugh, standing up and rubbing his back.

“easy,” you say, not wanting him to trip and fall. he slows down, walking up the steps as calmly as he can, you right behind him.

neither of you have any shame - it’s clear whats going on; your thighs still soaked with his saliva and his panting as he practically drags you up the steps.

you shove him into the bathroom, locking the door before slamming him against it. you connect your lips, swiping your tongue across his bottom lip messily before kissing him harshly, fast.

he whines softly against your lips, hips bucking toward yours in desperation. you smile, shaking your head.

“quiet. you don’t want me to stop, do you?” you taunt, tangling your fingers in his hair, pulling his head back and kissing across his jaw and down his throat.

his breath catches. he shakes his head. he’s still a whining mess, only softer now - trying to obey you, wanting anything but for you to stop.

“m sorry, s-sorry.” he chokes out, reveling in the feeling of your soft, wet lips against his skin. he slams his mouth shut, fighting forcefully against the cries that threaten to spill past his lips.

you lay your palm flat against his stomach, sliding down the skin until you reach the waistband of his pants. his breath catches in his throat, and he gasps.

you press your palm against him through his pants, watching as his face contorts in pleasure - his brows furrowing, his jaw falling slack in a silent whine.

you move your hand up, unzipping his pants and palming him again, this time through his boxers. his precum smears onto your palm through the fabric, sticky and wet.

“so messy,” you taunt, swiping your thumb across his tip through the fabric, causing his head to fall back - a small, choked moan escaping past his lips. it’s quiet enough to slide past your ridicule.

you move your hand away, a cry of protest spilling from matt’s lips. he watches as you bring your palm to your mouth, your tongue swiping along your skin - licking it clean of his precum eagerly. he swallows thickly, choking back a whine.

“i have to take care of that, huh?” you nod towards his cock, painfully hard underneath the confines of his boxers. he nods, eyes red and cheeks pink.

“p-please, need it so bad. h-hurts,” he whispers, voice shaking with need, spilling past his lips slowly and low. “i d-dont care what you do, just please-“ he continues, pouting.

you cut him off with a small kiss to his lips. his eyes shut as he melts into your touch, lips parting against yours. he leans into you, fighting to keep his hands to himself, to behave. his hands shake with want. his mind tortures him with images of you - under him, letting him make you feel good, your moans like heaven and honey.

“lay on the floor,” you whisper against his lips, voice dripping with sex. his eyes fly open, processing what you’ve asked of him before he practically lunges for the floor, his back pressed against the cold tile. his head spins at the quick change in position, his high still rippling through him harshly. he closes his eyes, every sensation hitting him tenfold. he feels like he could cum just from knowing what you’re about to do to him. he chokes back a moan as you sink down, straddling him through his pants.

he looks up at you with red eyes, cheeks pink, lips pinker. his hair is messy - your hands having been in it previously. his lips are slightly parted, he’s panting.

“make a sound and i’ll stop,” you whisper, reaching between your bodies and tugging him free of his boxers. he winces, the exposure to the cold air on his sensitive tip causing slight pain.

you smile, looking down and stroking him slowly. he lays his head back against the tile, his mouth agape in a silent whine of pleasure. he looks so delicious, so needy. you want to wreck him with pleasure, make him squirm beneath your onslaught and fight to stay silent.

you don’t even bother taking off your dress, only hiking it up your thighs enough to reveal your small underwear. his eyes nearly roll back in his head at the sight alone.

you pull them to the side, sliding your fingers along your wetness. he watches, mouth agape and panting.

you collect some of your wetness on your fingers, bringing it to his mouth. he parts his lips eagerly, taking your fingers into his mouth.

his mouth is warm and wet - so much so that you consider torturing him some more and making him eat you out, but you decide against it. he swirls his tongue around your skin, sucking your wetness off of your fingers eagerly, a shaky whine escaping his lips, as if your taste is bringing him physical pleasure.

he continues to suck at your fingers, even when he’s swallowed all you’ve given him - hoping to come across another taste somehow. you pull them from his mouth, leaving his mouth open and empty. he pouts, whining.

“a little more. please?” he asks, eyes red and pleading. his mouth waters at the thought of tasting you again - his favorite privilege.

you smile, shaking your head and sinking down onto him without warning. you watch as he struggles to stay quiet - his face scrunching in pleasure so prettily. his mouth falls open in a silent cry.

the pleasure of being inside you rakes through him harshly, every nerve ending in his body on fire. the pleasure is intensified greatly with his high, almost unbearable. he know he won’t last long.

you move your hips in slow, torturous movements. his jaw falls slack. a sweet, soft whine of pure ecstasy escapes his lips. you don’t reprimand him - in fact, you revel in the sound, your movements becoming quicker, sloppier.

he chokes. soft, pretty moans spill from his lips shamelessly.

“h-hurt me. please?” he begs, his voice shaking and barely audible. you grin down at him, shaking your head.

“needy needy.” you spit, your voice taunting, yet soft. you deliver a small slap against his cheek, watching his face contort in pleasure.

“nngh, fuck. again.” he slurs out, eyes shut. he throbs inside you, hitting your sweet spot with each of your movements.

“manners,” you reply, quickening your movements slightly, watching him struggle to form the words.

“ahh- sor-sorry. please? hit me again please?” his voice shakes, his climax so close he can taste it on his tongue - sweet and tantalizing, the pressure tumbling rapidly in his abdomen.

your second slap is all that it takes, the sting deliciously radiating across his skin. a soft cry escapes his lips.

“c-can i cum- please?” he begs, his voice so sweet and strained. you can’t help but nod, watching the relief and pleasure flood his pretty face.

his jaw falls slack, a soft cry of pleasure pushed through his pink lips. his body shakes softly under yours, trembling with the intense orgasm. every wave of pleasure is intensified, every shake of his body leaves him weak and dizzy. he pants as he comes down, finally feeling like he can breath. the room spins.

you slide off of him, causing him to hiss in sensitivity. he looks up at you in confusion, pouting.

“b-but you didn’t-“ he begins, reaching for you - hating the idea of not pleasing you thoroughly.

you shush him quickly, swiping your thumb across his bottom lip - his mouth wet and warm against your skin.

“shh. i have other plans.”

—-

an : i got carried away this is so fucking ass i apologize🔥🔥

send recs xoxoxo

[stursweet]

DRESS

pairing : matt x f!reader

warnings : sexual content obviously ARE WE SHOCKED🤣, high matt and reader, slight pain kink

summary : high sub!matt gets real needy at a party 🤗

an: y’all are SLUTS! all up in my inbox and my poll begging me for sub matt. i love it. feast up bitch. i love u. 💖💖 send me recs or just talk to me in my inbox if u want <33 also let me know if you want some sub chris. you know my ass will write for my babygirl any day. LOVEU

the air is stuffy with smoke and warmth. you’re glowing with a thin layer of sweat, your skin sticky. it’s difficult to breath, the emanation of everyone’s body heat and expelled smoke gently strangling you.

you and matt hadn’t planned to stay this long. you’d dragged him out of the house earlier that night - a mutual friends house, promising him you’d only be there a few hours, and that he’d enjoy himself.

it wasn’t hard to get him to come - he was following you out of the door eagerly, (nearly tripping on his own feet), especially after you slipped your small dress on.. his favorite.

that dress.. the way it clung to your hips, the way your tits were practically spilling from the top.. just taunting him, urging him to beg and fall at your feet, pleading for just one touch.

he’d been a mess before he’d smoked. he could barely look at your face in conversation - his eyes falling and tracing over your body, his pink lips parted slightly in awe. numerous times you had to dip your finger under his chin and redirect his focus to your face, to which he’d try desperately to sneak your finger past his lips and into his mouth - swirling his tongue around the digit just to get a rise out of you and letting go with a pop.

this only worsened when he had a hit of the joint you’d passed him, of course. he didn’t smoke often - it usually made him paranoid. but, something about the way the smoke spilled from your mouth as you exhaled, your glistening chest falling as you did so.. it made him want a hit. multiple.

so now, he’s sat at your feet - you sit on the living room couch, playing with his hair mindlessly as he kneels down before you, his arms hugging your thighs, his cheek pressed against the soft skin. he’s grinning to himself, his eyes shut. the party continues around you, the music muffled through the walls, the air hazy.

he wasn’t paranoid this time - only light, calm, amused by the smallest things. you reach down, rubbing your thumb against his cheek affectionately. he smiles, raising his cheek from your thigh to look at you, resting his chin on the skin now instead.

his eyes are tinted pink, as are his cheeks. he smiles at you sweetly - reminding you just how perfect his teeth are..

how perfect he is.

“you look so pretty,” he whispers, his speaking somewhat slower than usual. he taps his fingers along your thighs, his chin still resting on them as he looks up at you through his eyelashes. your stomach tightens at the sight.

you smile - scratching his head gently, playfully. “so do you,” you reply, watching as his cheeks grow even pinker from the praise.

someone plops down onto the couch right beside you, but neither of you pay them any mind.

“you think so?” he asks, hoping to pull more compliments from your lips - he craved them, your tone dripping with honey.

you run your thumb across his bottom lip - soft and ridiculously pink. he’s so beautiful; disgustingly so. you smile.

“of course i do,” you reply, voice smooth and carrying a hint of suggestion. his stomach flips. he smiles even wider, pressing a wet, open mouth kiss to your thigh - groaning softly against the skin.

“so soft,” he whispers against your thigh, his voice slightly cracking. he presses another kiss, and another, and another - peppering your thigh with warm, open mouth kisses.

seeing him on his knees in front of you, high and needy, does not help to stop the growing ache in between your legs. you smile, reaching down and ruffling his hair.

“not here,” you whisper, watching as his mouth against your thigh becomes messier, leaving wet trails of saliva across your skin.

he moans in protest against your skin, laying his tongue flat licking a stripe across your thigh.

“ ‘s not fair,” he whispers, still making a mess with his mouth all over your thigh shamelessly, despite so many of his friends and acquaintances flooding the space.

“you’ve been torturing me all day,” he whines, his face pressed into your thigh as he desperately tries to satisfy his body’s need to touch you.

you smile. you know you have been. denying him of any touches, wearing that dress..

“i’m not meaning to baby,” you lie, running your fingers through his hair, your nails grazing his scalp softly.

he moans shakily against your skin at the touch.

he swirls his tongue against the skin of your thigh again, groaning softly against you - the taste of you only making him ache worse.

“please let me touch you,” he whispers, slow and cracking with need. he looks up at you, eyes red and lips pink and parted with desperation. you smile, shaking your head.

“i said not here.” you reply, causing him to pout, whining in frustration against your leg. you grin.

“i’ll make you feel better when we’re alone,” you add, in hopes to calm him down - hold him over for the time being.

he smiles that dopey smile again, eyes glazed over.

“there’s nobody upstairs,” he suggests, his eyes pleading with you. he pouts, knowing you often give in when he does so.

you smile.

“you want me to fuck you in my friends bathroom?” you ask, tone laced with amusement at his neediness.

his face lights up at your words - the thought of you letting him be inside you never crossing his mind. at most, he’d thought he’d get your mouth; and that was best case scenario. he tries to contain his excitement.

he nods frantically, lifting his chin from your thigh to look at you better. he’s still on his knees in front of you, need and desperation written all over his face.

“yes, please. i’ll be quiet, i swear.. i-i’ll be so good, i promise-“ he rambles, his begs symphonic to your ears. his pleas are whiney, eager - and loud.

you reach down, interrupting his pleas with your palm. his eyes widen, and he fights to keep his tongue in his mouth and not run it along your palm greedily.

“you’re already not being quiet. why should i believe you’ll be quiet then?” you taunt, watching as he floods with panic at the thought of you denying him again.

he drops his voice to a shaky whisper, breathing heavy.

“i- i promise i will,” he chokes out. “a-and, you can cover my m-mouth.. j-just like that, if i’m not.”

you smile at his words, giving him a small nod, leaning down to whisper against his ear. your tits practically press against his lips, and he bites back a moan low in his throat.

“start walking upstairs.” you whisper against his ear, your lips brushing against his skin. you don’t even finish with your order fully before he’s standing up from his spot on his knees before you, walking quickly for the stairs, almost tripping on his feet. you laugh, standing up and rubbing his back.

“easy,” you say, not wanting him to trip and fall. he slows down, walking up the steps as calmly as he can, you right behind him.

neither of you have any shame - it’s clear whats going on; your thighs still soaked with his saliva and his panting as he practically drags you up the steps.

you shove him into the bathroom, locking the door before slamming him against it. you connect your lips, swiping your tongue across his bottom lip messily before kissing him harshly, fast.

he whines softly against your lips, hips bucking toward yours in desperation. you smile, shaking your head.

“quiet. you don’t want me to stop, do you?” you taunt, tangling your fingers in his hair, pulling his head back and kissing across his jaw and down his throat.

his breath catches. he shakes his head. he’s still a whining mess, only softer now - trying to obey you, wanting anything but for you to stop.

“m sorry, s-sorry.” he chokes out, reveling in the feeling of your soft, wet lips against his skin. he slams his mouth shut, fighting forcefully against the cries that threaten to spill past his lips.

you lay your palm flat against his stomach, sliding down the skin until you reach the waistband of his pants. his breath catches in his throat, and he gasps.

you press your palm against him through his pants, watching as his face contorts in pleasure - his brows furrowing, his jaw falling slack in a silent whine.

you move your hand up, unzipping his pants and palming him again, this time through his boxers. his precum smears onto your palm through the fabric, sticky and wet.

“so messy,” you taunt, swiping your thumb across his tip through the fabric, causing his head to fall back - a small, choked moan escaping past his lips. it’s quiet enough to slide past your ridicule.

you move your hand away, a cry of protest spilling from matt’s lips. he watches as you bring your palm to your mouth, your tongue swiping along your skin - licking it clean of his precum eagerly. he swallows thickly, choking back a whine.

“i have to take care of that, huh?” you nod towards his cock, painfully hard underneath the confines of his boxers. he nods, eyes red and cheeks pink.

“p-please, need it so bad. h-hurts,” he whispers, voice shaking with need, spilling past his lips slowly and low. “i d-dont care what you do, just please-“ he continues, pouting.

you cut him off with a small kiss to his lips. his eyes shut as he melts into your touch, lips parting against yours. he leans into you, fighting to keep his hands to himself, to behave. his hands shake with want. his mind tortures him with images of you - under him, letting him make you feel good, your moans like heaven and honey.

“lay on the floor,” you whisper against his lips, voice dripping with sex. his eyes fly open, processing what you’ve asked of him before he practically lunges for the floor, his back pressed against the cold tile. his head spins at the quick change in position, his high still rippling through him harshly. he closes his eyes, every sensation hitting him tenfold. he feels like he could cum just from knowing what you’re about to do to him. he chokes back a moan as you sink down, straddling him through his pants.

he looks up at you with red eyes, cheeks pink, lips pinker. his hair is messy - your hands having been in it previously. his lips are slightly parted, he’s panting.

“make a sound and i’ll stop,” you whisper, reaching between your bodies and tugging him free of his boxers. he winces, the exposure to the cold air on his sensitive tip causing slight pain.

you smile, looking down and stroking him slowly. he lays his head back against the tile, his mouth agape in a silent whine of pleasure. he looks so delicious, so needy. you want to wreck him with pleasure, make him squirm beneath your onslaught and fight to stay silent.

you don’t even bother taking off your dress, only hiking it up your thighs enough to reveal your small underwear. his eyes nearly roll back in his head at the sight alone.

you pull them to the side, sliding your fingers along your wetness. he watches, mouth agape and panting.

you collect some of your wetness on your fingers, bringing it to his mouth. he parts his lips eagerly, taking your fingers into his mouth.

his mouth is warm and wet - so much so that you consider torturing him some more and making him eat you out, but you decide against it. he swirls his tongue around your skin, sucking your wetness off of your fingers eagerly, a shaky whine escaping his lips, as if your taste is bringing him physical pleasure.

he continues to suck at your fingers, even when he’s swallowed all you’ve given him - hoping to come across another taste somehow. you pull them from his mouth, leaving his mouth open and empty. he pouts, whining.

“a little more. please?” he asks, eyes red and pleading. his mouth waters at the thought of tasting you again - his favorite privilege.

you smile, shaking your head and sinking down onto him without warning. you watch as he struggles to stay quiet - his face scrunching in pleasure so prettily. his mouth falls open in a silent cry.

the pleasure of being inside you rakes through him harshly, every nerve ending in his body on fire. the pleasure is intensified greatly with his high, almost unbearable. he know he won’t last long.

you move your hips in slow, torturous movements. his jaw falls slack. a sweet, soft whine of pure ecstasy escapes his lips. you don’t reprimand him - in fact, you revel in the sound, your movements becoming quicker, sloppier.

he chokes. soft, pretty moans spill from his lips shamelessly.

“h-hurt me. please?” he begs, his voice shaking and barely audible. you grin down at him, shaking your head.

“needy needy.” you spit, your voice taunting, yet soft. you deliver a small slap against his cheek, watching his face contort in pleasure.

“nngh, fuck. again.” he slurs out, eyes shut. he throbs inside you, hitting your sweet spot with each of your movements.

“manners,” you reply, quickening your movements slightly, watching him struggle to form the words.

“ahh- sor-sorry. please? hit me again please?” his voice shakes, his climax so close he can taste it on his tongue - sweet and tantalizing, the pressure tumbling rapidly in his abdomen.

your second slap is all that it takes, the sting deliciously radiating across his skin. a soft cry escapes his lips.

“c-can i cum- please?” he begs, his voice so sweet and strained. you can’t help but nod, watching the relief and pleasure flood his pretty face.

his jaw falls slack, a soft cry of pleasure pushed through his pink lips. his body shakes softly under yours, trembling with the intense orgasm. every wave of pleasure is intensified, every shake of his body leaves him weak and dizzy. he pants as he comes down, finally feeling like he can breath. the room spins.

you slide off of him, causing him to hiss in sensitivity. he looks up at you in confusion, pouting.

“b-but you didn’t-“ he begins, reaching for you - hating the idea of not pleasing you thoroughly.

you shush him quickly, swiping your thumb across his bottom lip - his mouth wet and warm against your skin.

“shh. i have other plans.”

—-

an : i got carried away this is so fucking ass i apologize🔥🔥

send recs xoxoxo

[stursweet]

GUYS EHLLO IVE RESSURECTED IS ANYONE OUT therE AND IF SO WHAT DO U WANT ME TO WRITE??🔥🔥🔥

[stursweet]

high as fuck rant about chris 😂

thinking bout how i’ve been on chris dick for 3 years is literally fucking insane like.. i know not one person give a fuck but like i have seen that dumbass through everything .. even when people were fuckin callin him orange hoodie kid on tiktok ☹️ it is so fucking bad for me.

when i see a picture of him / hear his voice / his name etc i literally start fucking tweaking and geeking like i’m fuckin 8 and when he fuckin post i jump my big fat ass up and down in my parents house and shake the fuckin tectonic plates like. and the fact that i’ve hugged him twice too makes it fuckin worse like i be looking at them pics and vids and analyzing the way he looked at me even tho he definitely thought my dumb fuckin ass was ugly and a freak.. i was fighting the urge to scream in his dumb ass face IM LEGAL HO!!

like i am gonna fucking throw up holy fucking shit i love him so fucking bad 😕 i literally get fucking sick when i remember that every fuckin teenage girl in the fuckin country in heat for him like.. i genuinely get pissed when 11 year old fuckin girls be all up in his comments like “i love u🥺” like? i will swing yo lil ass across the fuckin courtyard at your school bitch don’t fuck w me I AINT TOO OLD TO KICK YOU IN THAT THROAT! (i’m playing)

but like. i am about to fuckin jump on laura filipowicz tiny ass and stand on her shoulders like a fuckin pigeon til she agree to let me have ten mins with his ass. i can’t breathe yall i’m fuckin sick. like that is my babygirl my forever my queen. like my ass got a fuckin LOCKET with a pic of him at his graduation? like i am not normal i need fuckin euthanized. i need to fucking throw my phone out . if you read this i’msorry

[stursweet]

we on this app have fuckin evolved so much.. i remember gettin fuckin clocked in my anons and death threats for sayin i wanted chris to fuck me / writing smut and now we postin PORN LINKS?? i mean like LETS GO i used to pray for times like these but DAMN???? like how times have motherfuckin changed

[stursweet]

TOAST

pairing : chris x f!reader

warnings : none 🤗 fluff

an: having an episode and needed to write some babygirl chris 💖 love u

8:09 AM

it’s earlier than usual. it’s not often that he’s awake before you - your mornings usually consist of shaking him awake, coaxing him into getting up with kisses and promises of breakfast. this morning, though - his palm is flat on your back, shaking you gently.

the sun kisses at his bedroom blinds; light bleeding through the small cracks. you groan, shoving your face into his mattress.

“what time is it?” you whine, squeezing your eyes shut. his palm keeps its place on your back, moving in wide, soft circles.

“eight,” he whispers, leaning down to press a kiss against the back of your head.

“chris, it’s so early - why are you up?” you croak, reaching for his blankets and covering your head. he laughs - he has always found your crankiness in the mornings to be amusing.

“i got up to make you breakfast,” he whispers, pulling his covers away from your face. you open your eyes to look at him, chest tightening -

his hair is wild and messy, strewn atop his head carelessly; perfectly. his cheeks are bitten with the outside cold - pink and pretty.. his lips are twisted into a small, somewhat shy smile. laying in his hand is a napkin, two pieces of burnt toast wrapped inside. he darts his hand out to you, nodding his head towards the napkin.

you sit up, resting on your side to face him. you reach your hand out to grab the toast he prepared for you, grinning ear to ear.

“i burnt it. but i tried,” he smiles, blood coming to rest in his cheeks.

“i don’t mind,” you reply, taking a small bite. if it was in flames, you’d still eat it - especially with the way he’s standing there, watching you - proud of his creation, and adoration for you staining his face.

he sits down next to you on the bed, the mattress dipping.

“i’m shit at showing it. but i love you, you know.”

[stursweet]

if u reading this STEAL MY WORK AGAIN BITCH I DARE U!! think i won’t fuckin shove my foot so far up dat flat inverted ass that it come out ur ugly fucked up mouth!! fuckin posting my shit on a fuckin corny ass wattpad book 😕😕 NAW!

[stursweet]

chris and matt coded

[stursweet]

chris slapping dat icing and saying “who’s your daddy?” smiling .. i couldn’t even edge to this, i exploded IMMEDIATELY 😂😂 clean up on aisle MY PANTS!! like my fuckin squiet was immediately ten feet in da air sorry bout dat

[stursweet]

i tanked i fear

PLAY

pairing : matt sturniolo x f!reader

warnings : sexual content - the usual 😊 fuck off if u ain’t fuckin!!! (subish matt?)

an: hi sexies💖 take this as my apology for taking so long of a break. i’m back and y’all bout to be real sick of me and my dumb ass ALL OVER AGAIN!🤗🤗🤗 i love you guys! send me some new reqs!! also PLEASE recognize i fist fought my fuckin demons and wrote some matt instead of babygirlchris because all y’all fuckin matt girls.. IM PUTTIN YALL FIRST!😔

his room is dim, though bright enough to illuminate him perfectly - hair wild and messy beneath his headset, hips sunk low in his chair, fingers fidgeting wildly with his controller.

it’s been two hours since he’d sat down and begun to play - your patience dwindling rapidly. from your spot on his bed, he looked sinful : so focused, so tantalizing..

his tongue pressed to the inside of his cheek. the veins that danced throughout his arms and hands. his lips and their taunting tone of pink. the small pepper of color across his cheeks-

temptation wins and you’re padding over to him without much thought. his eyes don’t leave the screen, though, even with your new sudden placement - standing alongside his chair, clad in his shirt and a thong.

“you okay?” he questions without looking at you, his voice dripping with rasp and honey. you don’t respond - only lowering onto your knees in front of him, in between his legs. he looks down at that- eyes widening, blood traveling to rest in his cheeks.

“i- what are y-?” he stammers, hands fidgeting against the controller aimlessly with sudden nerve. you look up, meeting his gaze, taking note of the intense pink of his cheeks.

“nothing. keep playing,” you reply blandly, peering up from your spot below him. he swallows, evidently flustered. reluctantly, he nods- hesitantly tearing his eyes away from you to look back at the screen.

watching in amusement as his hands shake slightly with his controller, you bring a slow hand up and place it on his thigh : dragging your palm up the surface of his sweatpants slowly.

his eyes shoot down to you once again, focused on your hand inching farther up his thigh. he attempts to put his controller down; intending to direct his full attention to you, but- he’s interrupted by your voice below him :

“keep playing or i’ll stop.” you spit, voice unrelenting. he shudders, scanning your features for a moment, inhaling shakily before nodding.

he forces his eyes to dart to the screen in front of him, the light emanating a soft blue light onto his features. he swallows, adams apple bopping beneath the skin in his throat.

you continue the slow hike of your hand, suddenly reaching to palm him over his sweats. you watch as his face contorts in pleasure - eyes fluttering closed, eyebrows gently crinkling. he does his best to recover quickly, thumbing at a few buttons on his controller.

sliding your hand up some more, you play your fingertips at the waistband of his boxers, dipping a finger beneath the fabric and tracing a single, slow line against his skin. his breathing has become more erratic, his fingers fumbling against the controller.

“please- don’t tease- ” he whispers, eyes trained onto your hand at his waistband. his voice is small and raspy, laced with need.

“doesn’t look like you’re playing, baby..” you reply, retracting your hand from its spot, “i’m gonna have to stop.” you pout, voice teasing and low. you watch amused as he begins to frantically shake his head “no” -

“no-no, i’ll play, i-i’m playing, swear, i’m playing. keep going, please?” he chokes, small cracks in his tone. after a few seconds of no touch or reaction from you, he speaks again -

“please, i’ll b-be so good, so good for you. promise-“

he’s cut off by your hand returning to its previous spot, only now reaching further underneath the fabric, swiping your thumb against his tip and collecting his precum. a shaky exhale escapes his lips. you take note of his eyes staying attached to the screen - he’s listening.

“gonna stay quiet?” you question, watching as he nods his head in desperation. stroking him slowly, you tug off his boxers and sweats in a swift motion.

he looks down at you, eyes hooded and cheeks flushed, his breathing sporadic and wild. your eyes flicker to the screen, cocking your head towards it, signaling for him to focus.

“sorry, sorr-“ he whines, a whimper catching in his throat. he directs his attention to the screen again, pleasure etched into his features. you watch his hands struggle with the controller, pressing your tongue flat against him and licking a long stripe up his length.

he swallows, closing his eyes. you watch him fight to keep his composure, trying his hardest to concentrate on the screen, to listen to you- struggling wildly.

his eyes open again and on the screen, you slip his tip into your mouth - pushing yourself farther to take him the whole way down your throat, and back up. quiet whines whines escape his lips, fighting to stay quiet. you repeat the slow action a few times, pulling off with a pop.

“fuck-“ he stutters, mouth falling agape and eyes closing when you take him back into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks.

his fingertips are suddenly in your hair, grabbing a fistful - in need of something to grab on to. pulling off, you’re quick to remind him -

“play,” you whisper, a trail of saliva connected from his tip to your lips. he throws his head back in frustration, a sinful whine escaping his throat.

“can’t,” he whispers, voice cracking. he retracts his hand from your hair and rests it aimlessly on the controller - only to not entirely disobey your wishes. his game has already been lost, though - his eyes tightly shut and head rested on the back of his chair.

“thought you were going to be good?” you question, but only to hear him plead his case - the game has been pushed from your mind. you want his hands in your hair, his begs and cries to release into your mouth.

“look at me,” you coo, tongue swirling around his tip, stroking him quickly with your hand. he’s slick with your saliva. his eyes dart down to you, quickly tossing the controller onto the desk in front of him.

his eyes are dark, his pupils blown out - lips a dark, wet pink. blood dances underneath his cheeks, his breathing heavy and erratic. he looks perfect- deliciously desperate and absolutely ruined.

“want it all over my face,” you tell him, sliding your tongue over his slit. a sinful moan slips from his throat, his eyes falling shut.

“i’m- im so close, so cl-“ he fights to speak, cut off by you taking him entirely into your mouth again, bopping your head at quickly.

his fingertips tangle into your hair once again, a large handful beneath his palm - he tightens his grip, a few more whimpers and cries escaping his lips before letting go:

“i’m cumming, i’m-“

the words spill from his mouth so sweet, tone quiet and cracking, entirely at your mercy. you pull off of him quickly, stroking him with your hand as his release shoots out in hot, white spurts : covering your cheeks, lips, and chin.

you watch as he catches his breath, chest heaving and mouth agape. after a few moments, he gains a bit of composure, and looks down at you.

you smile at him, wiping your face clean with your fingers and popping them into your mouth. he watches with his lip between his teeth, cheeks impossibly redder.

you stand up, giving him a few small, soft kisses on the lips.

“come to bed?”

[stursweet]

y’all writing nick with a female partner thats anything but platonic need fuckin sucker punched in yo fat fuckin neck.. leave that man alone.. every fucking day yall get more and more ill in the head it seems.. have some decorum and respect 🤗

[stursweet]

imma need chris to squeeze my titties like he did to nick

[stursweet]

so real i feel like matt and chris be following hella white women almost exclusively

this is true but ALSO i can see them LOVING they woc.. chris be following latto and liking her pics so!! they sluts and i don’t think they fuckin discriminate with women. they fuckin love pussy

[stursweet]

you bump into chris somewhere and he approaches u what’s ur move

start doin fuckin backflips and trickshots and then flashing his ass and hopin for the best 🤗 nah i’d actually just turn the other fuckin way and cry he scary as fuck in person