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PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
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@evieolo
Navigate my page:
sturniolo centric â MASTERLIST
RULES
inbox is open | requests are closed
© evieolo | Donât alter, repost, or copy my work
https://www.tumblr.com/evieolo/817900312436391936/a-book-hes-writing-a-book
OMG HELLO UR BACK????đđđđđđđ i missed ur blog sm omg also im so geeked for mattâs book hehe
The news shocked me back onto tumblr đđ
A BOOK? HEâS WRITING A BOOK???
Mood board and a lil snippet from my latest fic!!
Yup đ Yup đ Yup đ
u probably get asks about this a lot but i think about ur lacy stories so often even tho its been more than a year đą definitely my fav pieces of work on this app fr
Ily ily and I have no idea. I love Lacey too but it was so so long ago and it hurts my brain to think about it. Butttt I also donât have a great outlook on writing or blogging right now since itâs been so long, once Iâm back in the groove of things Iâll know fs xo
https://www.tumblr.com/evieolo/786252206249738240/sadly-i-reappeared-on-the-busiest-week-ive-had
omg iâm so excited yayyy
Me too! Moodboards soon
omg i was thinking about you the other day đ i missed u
Sadly, I havenât had motivation to write for over a yearâŠ
Happily, itâs back!!
HELLOO?? ARE U BACK???
For now!! I missed you guys sm â€ïž
Cocaine Kicker
Pairing: Matt Sturniolo x Fem!Reader
Contains: SMUT!!/intoxicated sex/MANY mentions of cocaine/doggy/fingering/clit stim/multiple rounds/squirting/p in v/breeding
Request: Can you write a Matt story inspired by the song gorilla by bruno Mars
You and Matt parade into your apartment loudly. Messes of giggles fall from both your lips as your hands fumble through your purse for your keys.
You stumble in your stilettos as you haphazardly key open your door, but tread into your apartment with confidence, ridding yourself of your bag and about to kick off your heels when Matt pulls you in for a sloppy kiss.
Heâs granted access easily, the liquor helping with this. He tastes strongly of bourbon. Fragrant of Invictus Rabanne with the mixture of the cola that dusts his collar.
Your lips move messily against his, saliva mixing and teeth bumping together occasionally. You pull away but let your arms loop loosely around his neck, the lack of oxygen intensifying the dizziness of the cocaine.
Matt runs his hands over your body. Hips, ass, thighs, chest.
You shiver when his cold palm brushes your pebbled nipple, and youâd be lying if you said the contact didnât go rushing straight to your heat.
Your nipples are hard from a mix of the cold and the intoxication that flows through your bloodstream, and your thin top does a subpar job hiding the pebbled dots.
Mattâs close, close enough to give you a hickey, or kiss your neck but he doesnât, he stays embracing you, almost inhaling your scent before he speaks.
âI want to ruin you.â He rasps.
Dear the Love of My Life // C. Sturniolo
Dear the love of my life,Â
Chris scribbled onto parchment for the twentieth time. He stared daggers into the ink until the âoâs blurred into âuâs. He stared until he deemed his handwriting illegible and the title cringy. It was cringy. For you. You deserved cringy, you loved that shit. Love in letters, stolen kisses, unfunny jokes.Â
Rip.
His hands yanked the paper apart because it wasnât good enough. Nothing was good enough for you. Maybe nothing ever would be.Â
Dear the love of my life,Â
He scribbled onto the paper again.Â
Pull the words from your chest, Chris. Just say how you feel. Tell her sheâs everything you ever wanted.
Baby
He scribbled the pathetic word out.Â
I love you.Â
He inked a line through the words.Â
Maybe it was a case of right person, wrong time? Maybe he shouldâve spoken more gently. Maybe he shouldâve been a better manâa different man.Â
Maybe the letter was a form of self-sabotage because heâd seen you with another man and needed to hear rejection straight from your lips to know it was real. It didnât feel real. Nothing felt real without you.Â
So instead, he ripped that paper up. And instead, he snapped the pen in half.Â
Ink splattered on the parchment, but maybe it was better that way. Maybe he shouldnât have referred to the girl of his dreams as the love of his life, because she didn't want him. You didnât want him.Â
And he would want you forever.Â
hey I just wanted to let you know that your fic rain isnât in your master list, I was looking for it but I canât find it đ
đŹ ok so! Itâs not on my masterlist because I donât like it LMAO buttttt I didnât delete it so if you just search up rain on my pageâs search bar it should come up!
âÂ·Ë àŒ * a pure smut chris sturniolo oneshot !
( oral â m!receiving, dirty talk, hair pulling, pet names )
chris likes it when you suck him off on stream.
he revels in the view of you on your knees between his legs, palms splayed across his thighs as he shoves your head down onto his cock. the way your cheeks hollow and tears visibly roll down your cheeks is usually enough for him to shoot his load down the back of your throat.
Woah mama
Me to @luverboychris this morning
When I said I wanted to see him in my dreams I didnât mean like that đ
can u make a chris fic based on the song wildest dreams by taylor swift??
Working on this right now and itâs genuinely one of my fav ideas Iâve had in a while
Whoâs your favorite writer on here
I fw @evieolo heavily
someone recommend me some writers I wanna support them
Ily
i love overstimulated matt like i want him to be shaking and having had countless orgasms milked out of him to the point that he even says their safe wordâand then thereâs cuddling at the end
âCan you give me another?â You ask with beady eyes, already starting to pump your hand again after drawing his third orgasm out of him. Matt starts to squirm against the sheets, he grips at the mattress, fingertips turning red at the pressure as his hips weakly thrust up into your hand.
âN-no moreâ he stammers out, chest heaving as he tries in any way to escape your soft hand. âNot even one more?â You pry, your voice sultry sweet. You pump your hand up his length slowly, slightly squeezing him as you reach the tip. Matt lets out a strangled whimper, only fueling your desire to see him more wrecked until he mumbles out the safe word.
Youâre immediately at his side, pulling his head to your chest and whispering sweet nothings. âYou did so good, so good for me, yeah?â You pepper kisses along his hairline as he goes limp against you, completely spent.
Fortnite with Matt (Headcannons)
-> He always always always pulls you onto his lap
âBaby come watch me play.â / âIâm better when you watch me.â
Once youâre on his lap he wont stop squirming, has to see all angles of his PC, if he dies, heâll glare at you as if he wasnât the one who pulled you onto his lap in the first place
âYou made me die!â He squeaks out, realizing your shoulder wasnât the best place to rest his head while playing an action game. âDo you want me to get off you then?â You ask quietly, completely unsure of what he wants. When he hears those words he holds you impossibly tighter. âNo youâre my good luck charm.â
-> Will try to get you to play at least twenty times
âOne round?â He pleads as his hands playfully pinch your waist. You look at him skeptically âLast time I played with you, you told Chris you were dating Mr. Droupout, yelled at me like twenty times, and called me kid for a week afterâŠâ
-> Definitely makes a Fortnite related sex joke
âCan I chug on your jugs?â He smirks, licking his teeth with a shit eating grin on his face⊠you donât talk to him for thirty minutes after that.
-> He LOVES when you fix his headset for him
Thereâs something oddly domestic about you fixing his headphones for him. Youâll notice them slipping off his ears and reposition them perfectly against his face. You fixing his headset will always end in neck kisses along with mumbled out âthank yousâ