katiee🩹

“ᴵˢ ⁱᵗ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵉᵃᵏ ᵒʳ ᵗᵒ ᵈⁱᵉ…?”

[katieeswth]

۶ৎ ᴋᴀᴛɪᴇ ⤑ she/her eighteen. chratt!girl enfp. brunette. bisexual⋆·˚ extroverted. billie eilish. autumn. yapper- ,, loud. the neighbourhood. night walks. eyeliner. navy blue. guitar. sleeping. mint chocolate ice cream ꩜ day dreaming. star gazing. smoking

ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍ ɢɪʀʟ.

feel free to ask me anything.

[sunrisemill]

Sometimes I forget he’s not actually a dilf professor

[katieeswth]

the amount of unholy thoughts that come to my mind when i see this photo-

[katieeswth]

EXCUSE ME??

(i’m slowly turning into a matt girl…)

[katieeswth]

THE BICEPS?! HELLO??

[spookysturnz]

⊹₊⟡⋆ In which…StreetRacer!Matt thinks since it’s his birthday he can lay back and relax while dandy does all the work.

ʚɞ- Smut w/o plot. Riding. Overstimulation. Use of “good girl” and “bad girl.” P in V.

“Thaaats it, baby.” Matt’s voice was low, almost lazy, laced with that cocky little rasp that made your knees weak every time. His hands gripped your hips, guiding your slow descent as you sank down on his cock, inch by inch, until he was buried to the hilt inside you.

You whimpered, your head dropping, nails digging into his chest. “M-Matt… mm—fuck—too much…”

You bit down on your bottom lip, hands on his chest as you rocked your hips, slow and desperate. He felt everywhere—his rings cold on your skin, his cock hitting that perfect spot deep inside you with every grind.

“Can’t take it?” he whispered, voice low and teasing, even as he twitched inside you. “C’mon, Dandy. You said you’d be good f’me tonight.”

Your head dropped against his shoulder, breath hot against his neck as you whined. “I-I’m trying…”

Matt chuckled, the sound lazy, taunting, almost cruel. He dragged his hands down your back and then grabbed a handful of your ass, helping you move. “Not trying hard enough. Thought this was my present.” His voice dropped even lower. “You gonna make me do all the work on my birthday?”

You whimpered again, your thighs already trembling. You were trying—God, you were trying—but he was so deep, and your body couldn’t help but react. Clenching, pulsing around him with every shift, every grind, every mean little word that fell from his mouth.

He pulled you back by the throat gently, just enough to make your eyes lock with his. His thumb brushed your lips.

“Bet you’d ride me sweeter if daddy wasn’t in the next room, huh?” he smirked. “If you didn’t have to be so quiet…”

Your walls clenched again, betraying you, and Matt let out a low groan that turned into a hiss.

“Yeah,” he breathed, “you like that. You like being a bad girl for me, even when your daddy’s just a wall away. The cop’s little angel takin’ dick from the one guy he’s been tryna put in cuffs for months.”

You felt heat rush up your neck, shame and thrill bleeding into each other, your nails digging into his shoulders as you bounced just a little harder, just a little faster. You couldn’t help it.

“That’s it,” he rasped, gripping your waist now, “you got it baby. Make it count. Ride me like you own me—‘cause you fuckin’ do.”

Your head dropped back with a choked moan, his name spilling out between stuttered breaths.

He leaned forward then, lips grazing your ear, voice full of smoke and sugar. “Say it. Tell me whose pussy this is.”

“Y-yours,” you whispered, dizzy and wrecked, “Matt, it’s yours—”

His chain brushed your lips when he kissed you. Deep. Slow. Possessive. His tongue curled around yours and his hips finally thrust up into you, meeting your rhythm, deep and punishing.

“Happy fuckin’ birthday to me,” he muttered into your mouth.

A/N- Ummmm…did you guys like this <: Thank you so much to @viviansturns and @bamboonick for proofreading 🤭🤗

Divider Credits- @/Cursed-Carmine

[spookysturnz-spam]

Friendly ghosts- @httpssturns @starrii-sturns @sunrisemill @chriss-slutt @mattsdivaa @ribbonlovergirl @lyingonchris @strnilolover @alwaysiconick @thechratt-twins @lilssturns @chrismakesmewet @sturns-mermaid @bamboonick @angelicchris @sturniolo-szn2 @stevielovesmatt @satiivadreams @conspiracy-ash @lilianasturnsz @courta13 @kaybugga @sturniszn @vampzah @silverspringsstare

[sunrisemill]

I’ve never been more obsessed before in my LIFE

[katieeswth]

ꜱᴛᴜʀɴɪᴏʟᴏ ᴛʀɪᴘʟᴇᴛꜱ x ᴍᴇᴅɪᴇᴠᴀʟ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ

fiercely loyal, protective, surprising sense of humour, haunted by past battles, deeply values honorᝰ.ᐟ

ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ:

✎ keeps a small charm or token (a ribbon, a carved figurine) hidden under their armor, gifted by a loved one

✎ has old scars they never talk about; each has a story that shaped who they are

✎ doesn’t like killing, but accepts it as duty—often remembers the faces of those they’ve slain

✎ despite their imposing presence, gently untangles birds from nets or helps injured travelers on the road

✎ keeps a battered journal they rarely write in…fearing their words might someday be found

✎ sleeps lightly and always keeps a weapon within arm’s reach, even while traveling or camping

✎ collects poems or stories from every town they pass through, though they’d deny it if asked

quiet observer—watches more than they speak, deeply intuitive, finds comfort in solitude, has a dry sense of humour, notices details others missᝰ.ᐟ

ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ:

✎ knows every hidden path and can disappear into the trees in seconds

✎ has an owl or fox that often follows them, like an unspoken companion

✎ occasionally leaves carved symbols on trees to warn travelers or mark safe paths

✎ prefers twilight over full daylight—says the forest “feels most alive” then

✎ gets frustrated when the castle guards practice on the grounds and trample the wildlife

✎ knows the oldest, nearly forgotten names of certain groves, stones, and rivers

✎ teaches wandering children or lost travelers the basics of archery when asked, though pretends to be annoyed

charismatic and quick-witted, restless and sometimes reckless, loyal to a very small circle of true friends, deeply curious about the world outside the palace wallsᝰ.ᐟ

ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ:

✎ sneaks out at night disguised as a commoner to see the city

✎ memorises the names and stories of palace servants, wanting to see them as people rather than tools

✎ knows the palace so well they can walk it blindfolded—used to play hide-and-seek as a child

✎ hates the ceremonial crown; finds it heavy, cold, and symbolic of duty they fear they can’t live up to

✎ has a hidden talent—playing lute, painting, writing verse—that few ever suspect

✎ keeps a pressed flower between the pages of their favorite book, a memory of someone special

✎ loves music, and sometimes sneaks into the musicians’ gallery to listen unseen

[mattsstargirl-deactivated202511]

can we normalize men whimpering 🙁

[delilahsturniolo]

CHRISSSSSS!!!! 🫦🫦🫦🫦

[katieeswth]

ꜱᴛᴜʀɴɪᴏʟᴏ ᴛʀɪᴘʟᴇᴛꜱ x ʜᴏɢᴡᴀʀᴛꜱ ʜᴏᴜꜱᴇꜱ

impulsive and thrives on adrenaline , bold (sometimes to a fault), loyal and quick to defend his friends, has a natural talent for leadership, prone to acting before thinking ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴɴᴏɴꜱ:

➴ plays as a chaser on the gryffindor quidditch team, more for the thrill than the glory

➴ constantly in detention for sneaking into the forbidden forest or trying “heroic experiments”

➴ keeps a collection of odd trinkets from every adventure he’s had—each with a chaotic story behind it

➴ is terrible at potions, but brilliant at defence against the dark arts

➴ once tried to duel a poltergeist “to defend the honour of gryffindor tower” (it didn’t end well)

kind-hearted and sincere, patient, hardworking, deeply values fairness and inclusivity, quietly confident—doesn’t need to be loud to be strong, chaotic around his friends ᯓ .ᐟ

ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴɴᴏɴꜱ:

➴ works part-time in the herbology greenhouses and talks to his plants like they’re friends

➴ took in an injured puffskein in first year and still cares for it—named it “Nibs”

➴ keeps a dream journal beside his bed and occasionally writes poetry inspired by what he sees at night

➴ talks to plants and animals like they’re old friends—some of them seem to respond

➴ always knows the best, quietest spots around the castle (and shares them with friends who need a breather)

sharp-minded and observant, highly ambitious but with a strong personal code, often comes off as cold or detached but deeply loyal to a select few, sarcastic with a sense of humour, strategically chooses his battles—never reckless, always calculating

ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴɴᴏɴꜱ:

➴ keeps a journal where he writes down goals, plans, and subtle observations about people

➴ prefers dueling and spellcraft to quidditch

➴ sometimes vanishes for long stretches into the dungeons or the forest — no one’s quite sure why.

➴ known for gliding silently into rooms and startling people unintentionally

➴ always has a silver ring on his left hand — a family heirloom with protective enchantments.

dividers credits: @cursed-carmine

[brianaluvschris]

#bringbackstreams !! i miss my nerdy bf playing fortnite

[katieeswth]

STURNIOLO TRIPLETS x PJO CABINS.・゜゜・

natural leader, charismatic, ambitious, stubborn, protective

✎ HEADCANNONS:

⚡︎ their emotions affect the weather subtly: storm clouds when they’re angry, wind when excited

⚡︎ have an innate fear of falling—despite often being fascinated with heights and the sky

⚡︎ feel disconnected from others due to the pressure of being “destined” for greatness

⚡︎ natural talent with flight-related magic or storm control, but it often sparks accidentally

⚡︎ dislike authority unless they are the authority

fierce, passionate, competitive, loyal to a fault, hot-headed, tough love attitude

✎ HEADCANNONS:

➳ scar easily, and they wear those scars like trophies

➳ keep weapons under their bed… and in their backpack… and in their boots

➳ struggle with vulnerability and may bottle things up until they explode

➳ can instinctively sense tension or conflict in a room

➳ react instinctively to danger—fight first, think second

free-spirited, creative, charming and weird, empathetic, dual-natured

✎ HEADCANNONS:

✦ have vivid dreams, sometimes prophetic, often confusing

✦ can manipulate moods subtly—people relax or feel giddy around them

✦ frequently write poetry or sing without realizing it

✦ struggle with grounding themselves in reality, especially when overwhelmed

✦ deep understanding of both joy and pain—can see beauty in chaos

dividers credits: @uzmacchiato @cursed-carmine

[delilahsturniolo]

— 𝜗ৎ skinny . . . c.s

in which . . . chris helps you through your insecurities

warnings . . . body dysmorphia, insecurities, negative thoughts/emotions about yourself, fluff, angst, crying, comforting, use of pet names, bf!chris.

written by @delilahsturniolo. do not copy, steal, or modify my works. if you are taking any inspiration from this, please ask me first before posting and credit me in your description. happy reading! :)

HIT ME HARD AND SOFT WRITING MARATHON . . . fic #1

you’re staring at yourself in the mirror again. the kind of stare that turns into a search. looking for answers in the curves of your face, the lines under your eyes, the shape of your body that you never really learned how to love. your shirt feels too tight tonight, your jeans too snug, your skin too loud. it all just feels like too much. sometimes, you just don’t look in the mirror because you hate what you see. other times, you just can’t stop looking in the mirror because you hate what you see.

you pull at the fabric like you’re trying to loosen more than just the clothes, like you’re trying to make space to breathe. you’ve got to be somewhere in thirty minutes. chris is already downstairs, probably waiting with that soft smile, the one that makes everyone else melt. you wish you could be one of those people. the ones who melt when they see themselves. the ones who shine.

but you don’t feel shiny. not tonight. you force a smile anyway. a fake one. the kind you’ve perfected. you paint it across your face like armor, something that will convince everyone you’re fine, even him. “you look beautiful,” chris says when you finally come down. he’s leaning against the counter, hair messy in that casual way he never has to try for. you shrug off the compliment with a small laugh. “you’re just saying that.”

“no,” he frowns, eyes narrowing, “i’m not.” you brush past him, pretending to check your phone, pretending to be too busy to let the words sink in. the car ride is quiet. music playing low. your fingers trace patterns on the window, and you can feel his eyes on you every so often, but you don’t look back. you keep pretending. pretending that your chest isn’t tight. pretending that you’re not trying to hold yourself together with invisible thread.

the night is loud. laughter, lights, people who seem so effortlessly confident. girls with perfect skin and perfect smiles, guys who move like they own the room. and there you are, just existing. stuck in your head, stuck in your skin. you catch your reflection in the window and your stomach twists.

why? why why why?

you smile again. fake. again. you laugh at jokes you don’t hear. you nod along to conversations you’re not in. chris doesn’t buy it. not tonight. “hey,” he says quietly, pulling you to the side, away from the noise, away from the people. “what’s going on?”you shake your head. “nothing. i’m fine.” his hand gently touches your waist, warm and grounding. “sweetheart…”

your throat tightens. you don’t want to cry. not here. not now. but it’s like once he says it, once he calls you that soft nickname, your defenses start to crack. “i just…” you pause, eyes darting everywhere but his. “i don’t feel good. about me. i hate how i look. i feel like everyone’s staring and judging and..” your voice breaks. “i can’t keep pretending i’m okay.”

there’s silence.

not the awkward kind. not the cold kind. the soft kind. the kind that feels safe. chris steps closer, his hands cupping your face so gently it makes your heart ache. “baby,” he whispers. “you don’t have to pretend with me.” your eyes finally meet his, and there’s no judgment there. just love. and pain, like it hurts him to know you’re hurting. “you don’t have to smile if it’s fake,” he says. “you don’t have to shrink yourself to be enough. you already are.”

you start crying before you can stop yourself. he doesn’t say anything. he just pulls you into him, arms wrapping around you so tightly, like he’s trying to hold every broken piece of you together.“you don’t see what i see,” he whispers into your hair. “you never have. but i’ll remind you. every day. until you start to believe it.” you cling to him like he’s the only solid thing in a world that keeps slipping from your hands.

and for a moment, it feels okay not to smile. not to fake it. for a moment, it feels okay to just be, raw. insecure. human. and still loved. he doesn’t try to fix you. he doesn’t say all the cliché things you’ve heard before. he just stays. and somehow, that’s enough. maybe tomorrow you’ll still feel the same. maybe not. but tonight, in his arms, with the music fading into the background and your fake smile finally gone, you feel like you can breathe, and maybe that’s where healing starts. not in changing yourself. but in being seen exactly as you are.

© delilahsturniolo

💌: #selfprojection….anyway im excited to post tomorrow’s fic iykyk

[katieeswth]

“𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐋”ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ

✎ 𝘾𝙃𝙍𝙄𝙎 𝙎𝙏𝙐𝙍𝙉𝙄𝙊𝙇𝙊 𝘽𝙊𝙏 🔗

𝙞𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝… chris is worried and insisted staying at the hospital with you

[mattsweethrt]

「 you and chris breaking the bed ᵎᵎ 」

smut, kinda rough(??), slight degradation, missionary, p in v, cursing

chris was pounding into you, hard. his hands gripped your waist firmly, his face buried into the crook of your neck as low grunts and moans fell past his lips.

your mind was hazy, the only thing you were able to do was lay there and take it and chris thrusted in and out of you.

“chris, fuck,” you gasped, “so good.”

he smirked, pressing a few kisses to your neck and looping at the skin. “yeah? it’s that good you can barely talk?”

you nodded desperately, your nails scratching at his back, marking his flesh with dark red lines. the pain burned in the best way, sending a wave of pleasure through chris’s body, sending him into overdrive as he fucked you harder.

he snapped his hips against yours, the sound of skin against skin filling his bedroom. the bed creaked below you both, the headboard slamming into the wall behind it.

“y’hear all that baby?” chris taunted, his voice dripping with lust, “how hard i’m fucking you?”

“yes,” you moaned, the air leaving your lungs as his dick repeatedly kissing your cervix over and over.

chris continued slam into you, a loud crack echoing through the room as the mattress sank beneath you both. the slats in the bed frame broke in half, collapsing onto the floor underneath it.

you and chris’s eyes widened as he stopped his motions, holding himself up over you as he broke out into a wide grin.

“did we just break the bed?” he whispered.

you giggled, nodding your head as your cheeks began to heat up. “i think so.”

chris slowly pulled himself out of you, the mattress shifting around as he sat up, helping you with him.

“what now?” you mumbled, scooting to the edge of the bed, trying to avoid the sinkhole that was chris’s bed.

he smirked, grabbing your wrist as he tugged you off the bed and towards his bathroom. “let’s finish in the shower.”

bree’s corner ⸝⸝⸝ sorry i’ve been so mia lately i’ve had some stuff going on :( not entirely back yet but once things clear up i’ll be active again everyday! ❤️❤️

[katieeswth]

“𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐖𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐍’𝐓 𝐒𝐀𝐘”ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

✎ 𝙈𝘼𝙏𝙏 𝙎𝙏𝙐𝙍𝙉𝙄𝙊𝙇𝙊 𝘽𝙊𝙏 🔗

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: angst, anxiety/depression, mental health issues, smoking, etc.

𝙞𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝… matt approaches you in one of the group sessions at the mental health hospital 𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖

[cvnntagious]

＃┆touch the sky 〟 chris sturniolo

“w- what’re you doing?” you managed out, head thrown back against your pillow as chris’ fingers wrapped around your ankle, tugging your leg to hook his shoulder.

you love when he does this, though he doesn’t do it often.

“shhh, baby,” he hushed you, a smirk tugging at his pink lips, “jus’ gonna get you right, mk?”

your leg over his shoulder shifted everything — not just the angle, but the energy. chris moved with purpose now, deeper, firmer. each motion sent a new wave of pleasure that made your back arch off the bed. your fingers tangled in the sheets, then in his hair, needing something to anchor you as your body burned under his.

he held your thigh firmly, his grip strong, almost possessive. the muscles in his arm flexed as he adjusted, driving into you with just the right pressure, the kind that made your breath catch and your lips part in a soft cry. “fuck, i- chris please!”

chris caught it; of course he did. “what d’ya need, princess? i’ll give it to you,” he assured, voice deepened with lust, still smooth as ever.

you didn’t answer – couldn’t. your mind fuzzed at the feeling, and you found yourself practically babbling and drooling all over yourself. he leaned forward, folding you just a little more, pressing himself deeper into you. the stretch, the fullness, the intimacy of it made your head spin. he kissed the inside of your raised thigh, just where his fingers gripped you tight, then dragged his tongue slowly along your skin until you whimpered.

“you’re so perfect like this,” he whispered, just loud enough for you to hear over the sounds of slapping skin, “let me ruin you a little.”

a/n. i’m ngl this is my fave so far