#sturniolo

[nerdscout]

• A lost puppy? No. A lethal predator in silk robes.

tom was never one to show when he liked someone, he liked to feel in control. you however, made it extremely difficult for him. everything you did bothered him. especially when you thought you could just talk and laugh with whoever you wanted to. he didn't understand why you needed someone else in your life, only you should be laughing and talking to him. the others didn’t deserve that. only he did.

its the main reason he hates when your out of his sight and reach for to long, he has no idea what your doing, or who your talking to, and that angers him. thinking about someone looking at you for to long sent a pit of fire in his stomach. so it wasn't his fault that he followed you around everywhere like a lost puppy. you made him like this. it was your fault, he thought.

"sit next to me." tom had pulled you over to the empty seat next to him before anyone else in the class had a chance to sit there. you went to say something, but you couldn't even get your words out before he started pleading with you in that silken, lethal tone of his for you to to just sit there with him.

"please, I don't really understand this lesson." he did tho, he was top of the class.

he wanted to make you feel like you had a choice to sit next to him or not. to make you feel like "its only logical" to sit next to your best friend and give him the help he so desperately needs.

it wasn't a choice tho, you never had a choice.

to you? you were helping your best friend.

to him? it was proximity control.

[mattsbeloved]

Eenie Meenie

the one where chris, your boyfriend, and matt, your past college fling, are curious to know who you think is better in bed (10.9K words)

Contains: smut, porn with plot, threesome (no incest), voyeurism, m masturbation, dirty talk, praise kink, slight degradation, dry humping, hickeys, multiple orgasms, body cumshot, fingering, oral (m & f receiving), breast/nipple play, unprotected piv, creampie, soft!dom! boyfriend chris x sub!fem reader x dom!boyfriend's brother matt

The drive to Chris' house was spent quietly, my hand in his, as I watched the city blur past the passenger window.

He'd been talking about this weekend for weeks. “You'll finally meet my brothers. Nick's gonna love you. Matt's an asshole but he grows on you.” I'd smiled and nodded, letting the excitement build in my chest because meeting the family was a step, a real step. These last few months with Chris felt more serious than anything I'd had done before, which meant I was ready to take the necessary steps to show him I was committed to him and this relationship.

I just wished my stomach would stop flipping.

"You okay?" Chris asked, squeezing my fingers.

"Yeah." I turned to look at him, seeing the sharp line of his jaw, and the way a strand of brown hair fell across his forehead. He was beautiful in that effortless way that still caught me off guard sometimes. "Just nervous, I think."

"Don't be." He lifted my hand and pressed a kiss to my knuckles. "They're gonna love you. I promise."

The house was bigger than I had expected. Modern, all clean lines and warm wood, settled in a quiet neighborhood with trees that arched over the street. Chris pulled into the driveway and killed the engine, and I took a breath, steadying myself.

"Ready?" he asked.

I nodded, giving him a tight, nervous smile. “Yes.”

The front door opened into a spacious living room with high ceilings, a massive sectional, and natural light spilling through floor-to-ceiling windows. It smelled like home. Like laundry detergent and whatever candle was burning on the coffee table.

"Nick? Matt?" Chris called out, dropping his keys into a bowl by the door. "We're here!"

A voice drifted from somewhere deeper in the house. "Over here in the living room."

Chris grinned at me and tugged me forward.

I heard him before I saw him. That voice, low and lazy, calling out to Chris from the depths of the couch where he was sprawled like he owned the place. I rounded the corner with a practiced smile on my face, ready to meet my boyfriend's brother for the first time.

And then I saw him.

He looked up from his phone.

Time didn't stop. It didn't slow down or fracture or do any of the dramatic things they write about in books. It just kept moving, one second into the next, while my brain scrambled to catch up with what my eyes were seeing.

Matt.

Matt?!

The same Matt who'd spent two years of college pinning me against dorm room walls, who'd learned the exact spot behind my ear that made me shiver, who'd fucked me on my bed more times than I could count, and then disappeared after graduation without so much as a goodbye text.

The one with the same sharp jaw, the same heavy-lidded eyes, and the same mouth that had traced a path down my body numerous times. Same build, same hands, and same infuriating half-smile that was already spreading across his face as recognition flickered in his gaze.

"Wait." He sat up, phone forgotten. "No fucking way."

I couldn't move or speak. The air had turned thick and useless in my lungs.

"You two know each other?" Chris asked, looking between us with a curious smile.

I opened my mouth up to speak, but closed it immediately. My heart was hammering so hard I could feel it in my throat.

Matt stood, slow and easy, like a cat stretching after a long nap. He was wearing a black t-shirt that stretched across his broad shoulders and chest, and grey sweatpants that sat low on his hips. Five years had done nothing but sharpen him, the angles of his face, and the confidence in his posture. He looked the same and different all at once, and I hated that my stomach flipped at the sight of him.

"Yeah." Matt said, and his voice was exactly how I remembered it. Warm and rough around the edges, carrying a hint of something teasing. "We know each other."

It hit me then, like a physical blow. Triplet brothers.

Chris had told me. He'd said it a dozen times, in passing, the way people mention obvious details. “My brothers and I. Me and the twins.” I'd heard the words but never connected them. I never thought to dig deeper because Matt had been a casual thing, a nameless, faceless hookup from a part of my life I'd packed away and left behind.

I didn't know his last name. And I never bothered to ask. Because it never mattered to know.

"What are the odds?" Matt continued, and the laugh in his voice was unmistakable. He was enjoying this. I could already see it in the way his eyes glittered. "Small world, huh?"

Chris' brow furrowed. "How do you guys know each other? Like, from where?"

"College." I managed, and my voice came out strange, a little too high. "We had some classes together." The lie felt flimsy, but Chris didn't question it. 

"We had a few classes together. Ran in the same circles."

Ran in the same circles. That was one way to put it.

Chris’ face lit up with that easy grin of his. "Oh shit. That's awesome. Hang on, let me grab us some drinks while you guys catch up." He squeezed my shoulder as he passed, already heading towards the kitchen. "I'll be right back."

Don't leave me alone with him! The words were lodged in my throat, left unspoken.

The silence that settled between Matt and I was heavy and charged, thick with everything we weren't saying.

He simply watched me. With that slow, knowing gaze, that traveled from my eyes down to my lips and back up again, and I felt heat creep up my neck despite every effort to remain cool and unbothered.

"So…" he said, and the single syllable was coated in amusement. "You’re Chris' girlfriend?"

"I am."

"Damn." He tilted his head, the smile on his face sharpening. "You really couldn't get over me, huh? Had to go find and settle with my clone instead."

My face went hot. "Excuse me?"

"Come on." He took a step closer, and I held my ground even though every instinct screamed at me to back up. "Same face, same voice, and even the same way he runs his hand through his hair when he's thinking. You’re telling me that's a coincidence?"

"Chris is nothing like you."

"No?" Matt raised an eyebrow. "Then why does he have the same hands? The same mouth?" His voice dropped, just a fraction. "The same everything?"

My face went hot. I could feel the blood rushing to my cheeks, and the way my pulse tripped over itself. Matt noticed. Of course he noticed and his grin widened.

"Still gets to you." he murmured, almost to himself. "That's cute."

"No, it doesn't get to me. And it's not like that."

"Then what's it like?" He was close now, close enough that I could smell him. The same familiar scent that I had buried somewhere deep, musky, warm and achingly recognizable. "Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you never got over our little arrangement. Had to find someone who reminded you of me."

"That's not true." My voice came out sharper than I intended. "I didn't even know he had a brother when we first started talking. You and I, we never talked about anything real. We just had sex, Matt. That's all it was."

The words hung between us, raw and honest.

Something flickered in his expression. Surprise, maybe, or curiosity? It was gone before I could name it, replaced by that infuriating smirk of his.

"Damn." he said softly. "That was cold."

"You asked."

"I did." He reached out, and before I could pull away, his fingers brushed a strand of hair behind my ear. The touch was featherlight, barely there, and it sent a shiver down my spine that I hated myself for. "You've changed."

"Five years will do that."

"True." His hand dropped. "But you're still pretty when you're flustered."

"I'm not flustered."

"You're blushing."

Shit, I was. I could feel the heat in my cheeks, and the way my skin burned under his gaze. It was actually humiliating. Matt had always been able to do this to me, get under my skin, and unravel me with a look, a word, or a touch. And apparently, five years hadn't dulled that particular talent.

"Look," I said, forcing my voice steady. "That was a long time ago. I'm with Chris now, and I care about him. So whatever game you're trying to play—"

"Who said I'm playing a game?"

"You're always playing a game."

He chuckled, a low, delightful sound that caught me off guard. "Okay, fair. But I'm serious. I'm not trying to mess with you." He paused. "Much."

I rolled my eyes, but the tension in my shoulders eased, just a fraction.

"So..." He let the word hang. "Who's better in bed?"

I blinked. "What?"

"You heard me." Matt was enjoying this. I could see it in the way his eyes gleamed, and the way his tongue darted out to wet his lower lip. "Me or him? And don't say you don't think about it. We both know you do."

"That's—" I sputtered. "You can't just ask that!"

"Why not? We're all adults here." He gestured vaguely between us. "I've had you. He's had you. Seems fair to compare notes."

"We're not comparing notes, Matt. This isn't a fucking survey."

"Touchy." He smiled. "That means I'm winning."

"Ugh, you're disgusting."

Chris returned, walking back, holding three cans of soda. He handed one to me, one to Matt, and kept the last for himself. "Everything good out here?"

"Yeah," I said, before Matt could answer. "Everything's fine."

Matt raised his can in a mock toast. "Just catching up. Reminiscing about old times."

Chris settled onto the couch, pulling me down beside him. His arm wrapped around my shoulders, warm and familiar, and I leaned into him, letting his presence ground me. "That's good. I figured you two would get along."

I felt Matt's gaze on me from across the room.

"Oh," he said, taking a long pull from his beverage. "We get along just fine."

I rolled my eyes and sunk deeper into Chris’ embrace, using him as a shield against Matt’s intense gaze on me.

The movie was Chris' choice. Something action-heavy, loud enough to fill the space between us. I tried to focus on the explosions and gunfire, to lose myself in the chaos on the screen, but I could still feel Matt's presence like a weight in the room.

He'd settled into the armchair to my left, legs spread, one ankle crossed over his knee, watching the movie with a lazy half-smile that I recognized all too well. Every time I glanced his way, he was already looking at me.

Stop it. I begged him silently. Just stop.

But he didn't. Of course he didn't.

Halfway through the movie, Chris got up to grab more snacks, and Matt shifted in his seat.

"So," he said, low enough that only I could hear. "How serious is this thing with my brother?"

I kept my eyes on the screen. "Serious."

"Like, serious serious? Or I'm-just-saying-that-because-he's-in-the-other-room serious?"

"Serious serious."

He hummed, a noncommittal sound. "Hmm."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing." He took another sip of his soda. "Just interesting, that’s all."

I turned to look at him, narrowing my eyes. "What's interesting, Matt?"

"You." He met my gaze, unflinching. "The girl who swore she'd never settle down, dating my brother. And wanting something serious out of it. Not like you at all."

"People change."

"Do they?" He tilted his head, studying me. "Or do they just find new ways to lie to themselves?"

I opened my mouth to fire back, but Chris returned before I could, arms full of chips and popcorn. "Movie still good? Did I miss anything?"

"Nothing important." Matt said, and his eyes never left mine, but I looked away first.

When the credits finally rolled and the living room dimmed into something quieter, I let out a breath I felt like I'd been holding for hours. Matt stretched, his shirt riding up to expose a sliver of his stomach, and I pointedly looked away.

"Alright." he said, standing. "I'm gonna head to my room. See you guys tomorrow."

"Nick will be back Sunday night." Chris said. "You'll meet him then."

I nodded, barely processing the words. My skin felt tight, and my thoughts were a jumbled mess.

Matt paused at the doorway, looking back over his shoulder. "Nice seeing you again." he said, and the words were innocent enough, but the smile that accompanied them was anything but. "Really."

I waited until his footsteps faded down the hall before I let my head fall back against the couch. "Your brother is insufferable."

Chris laughed, pulling me closer. "Told you he grows on you."

"Like a fungus."

"Exactly." He pressed a kiss to my temple. "Come on. Let's go to my room."

I followed Chris down the hall, past framed photos and closed doors, until we reached his room at the end. It was warm and lived-in, clothes draped over a chair, a gaming set up propped up on his desk in the corner, and the bed unmade. It felt cozy and welcoming.

After I settled in for the night and changed into my sleepwear, I crawled into bed first. I buried my face into Chris' pillow, inhaling the scent of him. It smelled clean, familiar, and most importantly, safe.

Chris slid in beside me, his arm wrapping around my waist, and his chest pressing against my back. For a long moment, we just laid there, the silence being soft and comfortable.

"Hey," he murmured against my hair. "You okay?"

"Yeah." I closed my eyes. "Just tired."

He was quiet for a moment. Then said, "So, where do you actually know Matt from?"

My eyes shot open. "College." I replied, careful to keep my voice even. "I told you."

"Baby." His hand traced a slow line down my arm. "I'm not stupid."

My heart stuttered. Fuck.

Chris waited, patient and unhurried.

I swallowed. "We used to hook up in college. Like a lot." The words fell into the silence like stones.

Chris didn't move or grow tense. After a moment, he simply exhaled softly. "Oh."

"Yeah."

He was quiet for another long beat. Then his chest shook with a chuckle. "Shit. That's actually… wild."

I turned to look at him, searching his face for any signs of anger or jealousy. But there was only surprise, and something that looked almost like amusement. "You're not mad?"

"Why would I be mad? It was before us." He shrugged casually, the motion bumping me against him. "And it's not like you knew he was my brother. How could you have?"

I let out a relieved breath. "I don't know. I just— I didn't want you to think—"

"Hey." He cupped my face, tilting it up to meet his gaze. "It was in the past. It's fine."

I nodded, letting the tension drain from my shoulders.

"Although," he added, his grin turning mischievous. "I gotta ask. Who's better in bed?"

I groaned, dropping my head onto his chest. "Not you too."

"What?"

"Matt asked me the same thing."

Chris' eyebrows shot up in amusement. "No way."

"Right after you left to get drinks. Asked me who was better between you both."

"And what'd you say?"

"I told him he was disgusting, Chris."

"That's not an answer."

"It's the only answer he's getting."

Chris hummed, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on my hip. "I mean, for the record, I'm just curious too. You've seen both our dicks at this point. Seems unfair that I don't get to compare."

I lifted my head to stare at him, incredulous. "You can’t be serious."

"I'm just curious.” he shrugged.

"Ugh, I'm going to bed."

I said it like a final verdict, like slamming a book shut. I was already turning away from him, reaching for the pillow to burrow my face into. I was done with this conversation and this day, and the way my skin prickled from the memory of Matt's eyes on me.

"Wait, no." Chris' hand landed on my waist, fingers curling against the fabric of my tank top. "I'll be bored."

"Not my problem."

"But—"

"Goodnight, Chris."

I yanked the duvet up to my chin, and closed my eyes. I felt the mattress shift as he adjusted behind me, and I heard him let out a dramatic sigh, followed by the soft click of his phone screen lighting up.

I thought he was just doom scrolling. Mindlessly killing time the way he always did before sleep. I was already halfway to drifting off, my breathing starting to slow down, as the tension of the day released from my muscles.

Then I heard it. The outgoing ringing tone for a video call.

"Hey, Matt. What're you up to?"

My eyes flew open and my body went still.

I stayed perfectly still, face half-buried in the pillow, as my heart slammed against my ribs. The dim glow of Chris' phone screen reflected off the wall ahead of me. I could hear Matt's voice, tinny through the speaker, rough and a little amused even through the distortion.

"Nothing much. Why, what's up?"

Chris' voice was way too casual for my liking. "Come to my room. I wanna settle something."

Settle something?

The words hit me like a splash of cold water. I went rigid under the blanket, every nerve in my body snapping to attention, as I turned back over towards Chris. I knew that tone. I knew exactly what he was doing.

Matt was quiet for a beat. “Yeah? What's your girl up to?"

I heard the smile in Chris' voice before I saw the phone. “Apparently going to sleep.”

He tilted the screen towards me. I was frozen in place, caught in the frame of his camera, lying on my side with my hair fanned across the pillow and the thin strap of my tank top slipping down my shoulder. The sleepset I'd packed was soft and light, a pale pink that barely covered anything, with a low neckline. Underneath the duvet, a pair of matching shorts rode high up on my thighs, from all the tossing. I had packed this particular set because it was comfortable, and I wasn't planning on anyone seeing me in it except Chris.

And I most definitely did not anticipate Matt to see me in it.

Matt’s face appeared on the screen, and I watched the shift in his expression in real time. The lazy amusement flickering into something sharper and darker. His eyes traveled down, deliberately, tracing the curve of my collarbone and the shadow between my breasts. And when his gaze lifted back to mine, there was heat there. Familiar, dangerous, and hungry in a way that made my stomach flip.

The same way he used to look at me before he'd pin me against a dorm room wall and fuck me senseless.

"On my way." Matt said, and the call dropped.

I sat up so fast the duvet pooled around my waist. "What the hell, Chris?"

He was already grinning at me, that infuriating boyish grin that I usually found endearing but right now made me want to throw a pillow at his face. "What?"

"You know what." My voice was high, incredulous. "You just—you invited him over here. To settle something. Are you fucking serious right now?"

Chris shrugged, completely unbothered. He set his phone down on the nightstand and leaned back against the headboard, arms crossed behind his head like he didn't have a care in the world. "What? You heard him. He was free."

"Chris."

"He said he wasn't doing anything."

"Chris."

He looked at me then. That knowing, easy look on his face made me realize he planned this. He'd been turning the idea over in his head ever since I told him the truth.

"You know, I just realized something." he spoke up, and I stared at him with my heart pounding in my chest. "This whole time you didn't exactly say no either."

My mouth opened and then closed again, dumbly.

"You didn't stop me or tell me to hang up. You just laid there and let it happen."

"I was shocked." I managed to say, as my throat dried up.

"Were you?"

The question hung between us.

I wanted to be angry. I wanted to grab my pillow and storm out and say this was insane, that he was insane. I wanted to scream that we were not doing this, but the words never come. Because some small, traitorous part of me, the same part that remembered Matt's hands and mouth and the way he used to whisper filthy things in my ear while he fucked me, was silent… waiting.

Chris saw it. I knew he saw it, because his smile softened into something almost tender. "He'll be here in a minute." he said. "So you've got that long to decide if you really want to kick him out."

I swallowed. The silence stretched. And somewhere down the hall, I heard a door creak open.

Before I could formulate a response, and figure out whether I wanted to scream at Chris or bury myself so deep in the mattress that I ceased to exist, the knock came. Three short, confident raps.

Chris didn't even look at the door. His eyes were on me, that same knowing smile still playing at the corners of his mouth. "Come in."

The door swung open.

I did the only thing my panicked brain could think of: I grabbed the duvet and yanked it over my head, disappearing into the dark, muffled cave of Chris' bedding. I pressed my eyes shut like a child pretending that if I couldn't see them, they couldn't see me.

"Seriously?" Matt's voice drifted through the room, rich with amusement. "She’s hiding?"

"She’s nervous, I think." Chris said, and I could hear the grin in his voice.

"She wasn't nervous when I had her bent over the sink in my dorm room."

"Matt!"

His laugh was deep and warm, and despite myself, I peeked. Just a crack, a sliver of space between the duvet and the pillow.

Matt was standing just inside the doorway, one hand still on the doorframe, and the sight of him hit me like a physical blow.

He was wearing a white tank top. The thin fabric clung to the broad span of his shoulders, the defined curve of his chest, and the cut of his arms where his tattoo sleeve wound from his wrist up past his elbow, disappeared beneath the strap. I had traced the same tattoos with my fingers before. I remembered the feel of them under my fingertips, the way his muscles would shift as I touched him.

And below that—god—those fucking grey sweatpants of his. Hanging low on his hips, the waistband loose enough that I could see the sharp cut of his hip bones. They hung on him like they were barely staying up, like one wrong move and they'd slide right off.

I swallowed, thick and audible. And both of them heard it.

Matt's eyes found mine through the gap in the duvet, and his smile sharpened. He knew. He knew exactly what he looked like, and what that look did to me. He'd always known.

He stepped further into the room, letting the door click shut behind him. The sound was final and heavy, sealing the three of us in the dim glow of Chris' bedside lamp.

Chris shifted on the bed, making room, and Matt moved towards us with the easy confidence of someone who had never been told no in his life. His gaze traveled over the bed, to Chris, and across the lump of the duvet that was supposed to be hiding me, and that smile of his never faltered.

"So… this is cozy." Matt said, settling onto the edge of the mattress. The frame groaned under his weight, and I felt the dip of the bed through the layers of fabric. "What a shame, she’s hiding."

"I'm not hiding." I snapped, my voice muffled through the duvet. "I'm trying to sleep. There's a difference."

"Is there?" Matt's voice was closer now. He must have shifted. "Because from where I'm sitting, it looks like you're hiding."

I ripped the duvet down, sitting up so fast that the fabric tangled around my waist. "I'm not—" The words died in my throat.

Matt was right there. Close enough that I could see the individual lines of his tattoo, and the faint scar near his eyebrow that I had kissed once, a long time ago. His eyes were fixed on me with an intensity that made my stomach drop.

Chris was on my other side, equally close, his hand finding my bare thigh under the duvet. His touch was warm and grounding, a stark contrast to the heat rolling off Matt's body.

They exchanged a look between me, wordless and knowing. Then the both of them turned to me, with identical smiles curling at the corners of their mouths.

I was trapped between them. Literally and figuratively, in every way that mattered. And I had no idea what I was supposed to do next.

Matt's voice cut through the thick silence, smooth and casual. "So, Chris. What exactly did you wanna settle?"

He said it with a wicked smile. His eyes flicked to me briefly, then back to Chris, and I could tell he already knew. He'd walked in here knowing exactly what his brother had planned, and he'd come anyway. Willingly and eagerly.

Chris shrugged, the picture of nonchalance, his hand still warm on my thigh. "Just a little debate, that's all. She won't tell me who's better in bed." He said it like he was discussing the weather, like he hadn't just thrown me into the middle of the most uncomfortable conversation of my life. "Figured we could settle it once and for all."

I stared at him, mouth slightly open, absolutely certain I had misheard him.

"Funny thing." Matt's voice dragged my attention back to him. He was leaning back on his palms, the thin fabric of his tank top pulling taut across his chest. His eyes glinted. "I wanted to know too."

"Oh my god." The words escaped me before I could stop them. I looked between them, the both of them wearing the same infuriating smirk. "Is this some kind of weird twin shit I don't know about? Do you guys not have any concept of privacy or TMI?"

They exchanged a glance, and something passed between them… almost like a silent communication that made my stomach churn.

"Not really." Chris said, and his voice was lighter now, more honest. "We grew up sharing a room, sharing food, and almost everything else. There's not much that's off-limits between us."

Matt nodded, his smile turning thoughtful. "Especially not when it comes to girls." He paused, letting the words hang. "We've shared one before. At the same time."

My heart stopped. Literally. I felt it stutter in my chest, skip a beat, then slam back to life so hard I could feel it in my throat. I stared at Matt, searching his face for any sign that he was joking, that this was some elaborate prank.

But he wasn't smiling anymore. Not even teasingly. He was watching me with a steady, serious gaze that told me everything I needed to know.

I turned to Chris. He met my eyes, and there was no denial there. Only a quiet confirmation.

"You've..." I swallowed. My mouth was dry. "You've both... shared a girl. At the same time?"

"Yeah." Chris said softly. "Once. A while back."

The silence that followed was deafening. My brain was scrambling, trying to process and keep up with the implication that was slowly, steadily unfurling in the space between the three of us. They'd done this before. With someone else. And now—

No. They couldn't possibly be implying...

I looked at Matt. Then at Chris. Then back at Matt.

They were both watching me with the same expression. It was calm and expectant. Like they were giving me time to catch up to what they were already thinking.

"Wait." My voice came out higher than I intended. "You're not suggesting—" I gestured vaguely between the three of us. "Right now? That we—" I couldn't even finish the sentence.

Chris' hand squeezed my thigh, gentle and reassuring. "I'm not suggesting anything you don't want."

"But you're thinking it."

He didn't deny it.

Matt let out a low chuckle, and the sound sent a shiver down my spine. "Relax. Nobody's gonna push you into anything." He leaned closer, and I caught the scent of his skin. "But I gotta say, the thought has crossed my mind a few times tonight."

"Same." Chris added, and his voice was softer now, more vulnerable. "But only if you want it. Only if you're okay with it."

I looked between them, my heart hammering, my skin flushed, and my thoughts a tangled mess of this is insane and why isn't my mouth saying no.

Because I hadn't said no. Not once. And they both were very much aware of it.

The air between us thickened until I could taste it, something electric and something that hummed in the space between my skin and theirs. I was frozen, caught in the crossfire of their gazes, my breath shallow and quick in my chest.

I couldn't move. But I also couldn't look away.

My heart was a war drum in my ears, pounding out a rhythm that I felt in my throat, my fingertips, and the space between my thighs. Every nerve in my body was alive, attuned to the two pairs of eyes fixed on me like I was something precious… and wanted.

I should have been terrified. I should have been scrambling for an exit, for a laugh to break the tension, or for any excuse to retreat back under the duvet and pretend this conversation never happened.

But I wasn't.

Because lying to myself had never been my strong suit, and right now, with Chris' hand warm and steady on my thigh and Matt's gaze burning a path across my skin, I couldn't pretend I wasn't intrigued.

Matt still got to me. Five years later, in a serious relationship with his brother, and a whole life lived between then and now, but none of it mattered. The pull was still there, magnetic and undeniable, humming just beneath the surface of my skin.

And Chris... he was right beside me. Trusting me. Urging me. His hand was a gentle anchor, keeping me tethered even though I felt as if I was floating away into uncharted waters.

I was surrounded by two of the most attractive men I'd ever laid eyes on. And somewhere between the shock, the confusion, and the sheer absurdity of the situation, I realized I trusted them both completely.

Matt moved first, slowly.

His fingers found the edge of the duvet where it was bunched around my waist, and he tugged gently. His gesture, a question more than a demand. His eyes never left mine as the fabric slid away, inch by inch, until the cool air of the room hit my bare skin.

I sucked in a sharp breath. My tank top had ridden up, baring a strip of my stomach. The shorts I was wearing had hiked high on my thighs, leaving little to the imagination. I felt exposed, laid bare under the dim light, and the way Matt's gaze traveled down my body made my skin flush.

Matt looked at me like he was starving. His eyes traced the curve of my hips, the dip of my waist, and then the length of my legs. He lingered on the thin fabric of my tank top, on the outline of my nipples hardening against the thin cotton. His tongue darted out, wetting his lower lip, and when his eyes met mine again, there was something predatory in them.

But he held himself back.

I could see it in the tension of his jaw, and the way his hands were fisted at his sides. He was waiting, restraining himself. For Chris to grant him permission.

Chris' hand never stopped moving. Slow circles on my thigh, grounding me, and reminding me that he was here. And that he was okay with this.

"Hey." His voice was soft, pulling my attention to him. His gaze was warm. "Do you want to kiss him?"

The question hit me like a tidal wave.

I stared at him, breathless. "What?"

"Do you want to kiss him?" he repeated, and there was no jealousy or hesitation in his voice. "You can, if you want to."

"But—you—" I stammered, my brain short-circuiting. "You're my boyfriend."

"I know that, baby." he smiled reassuringly. "And I trust you. I know it sounds crazy, given the circumstances, but I do." His hand squeezed my thigh. "If you want to kiss him, kiss him. I'm not going anywhere."

I looked at him for a long moment, searching his face for any sign of doubt. There was none. Just trust.

I turned back to Matt. He was watching me, waiting, his chest rising and falling with slow, measured breaths. The tension in his body was palpable, coiled tight, and ready to spring at the slightest invitation.

I finally made a decision. Slowly and deliberately, I shifted my legs apart. Just a few inches, enough to create space. An invitation. A silent come here.

Matt didn't wait. He moved forward immediately, one knee sliding onto the bed, then the other, and slotted his body into the space I had created between my thighs. The mattress dipped under his weight, bringing him closer, until I could feel the heat radiating off his skin.

His hand came up, fingers brushing my jaw, tilting my face towards his. The touch was featherlight, and it sent a shiver down my spine that I couldn't suppress.

Then he leaned in, and his lips met mine.

And god, it was like being struck by lightning.

The kiss was soft at first, testing, tasting, and reacquainting. Matt’s lips were warm and familiar in a way that made my chest ache, and I felt the years between us collapse into nothing. The hesitation lasted only a heartbeat, before I melted into him completely.

My hands found his shoulders, gripping the fabric of his tank top, pulling him closer. His tongue traced my lower lip, asking for entry, and I granted it without thinking or hesitating. The kiss deepened, and I felt a moan building in my throat as his hand slid into my hair, tilting my head back.

Every memory came flooding back.

Late nights in cramped dorm rooms. The press of his body against mine in the dark. The way he used to whisper my name against my skin. The way he'd look at me afterwards, elated and satisfied, like I was the only thing in the world that mattered.

Chris' hand was still on my thigh, a warm and steady pressure that kept me grounded as I floated somewhere between past and present. I felt him shift closer, as his lips pressed against my shoulder, a gentle reminder that he was still there. That this was okay.

I broke the kiss, pulling away, gasping for air. Matt’s breath was just as ragged, his eyes now darker and blown wide.

"Fuck." he whispered. “I missed that.”

And I didn't disagree.

Beside me, Chris' lips traced a slow line up my neck, and I shivered, caught between two bodies, and two sets of hands that were slowly and carefully exploring my body.

This was happening. This was really happening.

Matt's fingers curled around the hem of my tank top, the barest brush of knuckles against my stomach. He didn't pull or tug. Just held the fabric between his thumb and forefinger, waiting, his eyes locked on mine. "Can I?"

His voice was rough, stripped of the teasing edge he'd carried all evening. This was real. This was him asking, not assuming. And I noticed he didn't look at Chris this time to seek his permission. His focus was entirely on me, unwavering, like I was the only person in the room.

My heart slammed against my ribs. I should have said no and laughed this off, and crawl out from between them and flee out the room. But my body wasn't listening to the rational part of my brain anymore.

I turned my head, hesitating, searching for Chris.

He was watching us with soft eyes, a small, reassuring smile curving up his lips. He nodded once, it was subtle. Then his voice dropped, low and husky, meant only for my ears. "Whatever you want, baby." His hand squeezed my thigh again. "I know you missed him."

Something in me cracked open. The words hit me square in the chest, loosening the last threads of resistance I'd been clinging to. He knew and understood. And he was giving me this, giving me permission to want, to take, and to fall back into something I had buried away years ago.

I turned back to Matt. "Yes." I said, my voice coming out smaller than I intended. “Please."

Matt didn't waste time. But he didn't rush, either. He reached behind his head, grabbing the back of his tank top, and pulled it off in one fluid motion. The fabric slid over his shoulders, baring his chest, and I forgot how to breathe.

He was broader and more defined than I remembered. His chest was bare, shoulders wide, and stomach tight with muscle that flexed as he moved. A thin line of hair trailed from his navel down into the waistband of his sweatpants, and I followed it with my eyes before I could stop myself.

Then his hands were on me again, and my tank top was sliding up and over my head. The air felt cooler against my heated skin, making me gasp softly. I was bare from the waist up now, completely exposed and vulnerable.

Matt's breath caught. He sat back, his eyes roaming over me like he was memorizing every curve and shadow. His tongue wet his lower lip, and when he spoke, his voice was rough.

"Fuck," he husked. "I missed these pretty tits."

Before I could respond, he tapped his thigh. A silent command saying, come here.

I moved without thinking, swinging one leg over his lap, settling onto his thighs. The heat of him seeped through the thin fabric of my shorts, and I felt it immediately: the hard line of his cock pressed against the apex of my thighs, thick and heavy even through the layers between us. A pulse of heat radiated from him, and I bit my lip to stifle the sound that threatened to escape.

Matt’s hands found my waist, his fingers digging into the soft flesh, guiding me closer. Then he leaned in, and his mouth was on me.

He started slow and languid. His lips pressed against the swell of my breast, trailing a path of open-mouthed kisses across my skin. His tongue traced the curve, tasting and savouring, making my eyes flutter closed.

"Matt…" I exhaled, and the sound of his name on my lips after all these years sent a shiver through both of us.

He hummed against my skin, and the vibration made my back arch, pushing my breast closer to his mouth. He took the invitation, closing his lips around my nipple, and I moaned brokenly, a sound that escaped before I could stop it.

His tongue circled the sensitive peak, before he sucked gently, drawing it into the warmth of his mouth. My hands found his hair, and my fingers threaded through the soft strands, holding him there as waves of pleasure rolled through me.

Fuck. He always knew how to use that tongue.

He switched to the other breast, giving it the same attention. His hand came up to cup the one he'd just abandoned, his thumb brushing over the wet, hardened nipple. My hips shifted restlessly against his lap, and I felt his cock twitch beneath me, a reminder of how hard he was and how much he wanted this.

In the haze of my pleasure, I remembered I wasn't alone. I opened my eyes, turning my head, searching for Chris through the thick fog of want.

He was leaning against the headboard, shirtless, with his pajama pants bunched around his thighs. His hand was wrapped around his cock, stroking slowly and lazily, just enough to take the edge off and soothe the ache. His eyes were fixed on us, sharp and hungry, but there was no jealousy there. Only lust and patience.

He was waiting and watching. Letting Matt and I have this moment. When our eyes met, he gave me a small, crooked smile, and his hand never slowed its rhythm.

I bit my lip, as heat flooded through me at the sight of both of them, one beneath me and one behind me, both wanting me and waiting for me to lead.

Matt's mouth left my breast with a wet pop, and he looked up at me, his lips swollen and his eyes dilated. "You okay?"

I nodded, breathless. "Yeah."

His hands slid down my waist, settling on my hips. "Good. Because I'm not done with you yet."

Chris' voice came from behind me. "What do you want him to do to you?"

The question landed heavy in the space between us. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. The options were endless, spinning through my mind in a haze of heat and want. I thought about what I really wanted and what I'd been too afraid to admit even to myself.

I wanted to be used. Tonight, I wanted to be Matt’s fuck toy, and his to take apart piece by piece. I wanted to surrender to the feeling of two bodies surrounding me, consuming me, and leaving no part of me untouched.

I looked down at Matt, meeting his icy blue eyes, and I let the honesty bleed into my voice. "Touch me."

The words were simple, but they carried everything. I swiveled my hips, giving him an intentional grind against his clothed cock, and the friction dragged a hiss from between his teeth.

"Shit." he groaned, his fingers tightening on my hips. "Yeah, okay."

Matt’s hands found the waistband of my shorts, and he peeled them down my thighs, lifting me just enough to slide the fabric away. The cool air caused goosebumps on my newly exposed skin, and I was suddenly, completely naked, straddling his lap with nothing between us but his sweatpants. He looked down, and his breath caught.

I was already soaked and glistening. The evidence of my arousal was impossible to miss, coating my thighs, catching in the dim light. Matt let out a low hum of satisfaction, the sound vibrating through his chest.

"Goddamn." he murmured. "You're already so wet for me, sweetheart."

His hand moved between us, his fingers grazing my cunt with barely any pressure. I whimpered at the touch, my hips bucking involuntarily, chasing more of his touch. Matt took his time, spreading me open with expert fingers, parting the slick petals so his middle finger could drag through my slit from entrance to clit.

I shook in his lap, my nails digging into his shoulders as a sharp gasp tore from my throat.

"That's it." he coaxed, watching my face. His finger circled my clit slowly and torturously, and I felt my whole body tremble. "You remember this, don't you? You remember how I used to make you feel."

I couldn't answer. My mouth was slack open, as my breath came in short, ragged bursts.

He slid one finger inside me, then two, curling them upwards, pressing against that spot that made stars burst behind my eyes. His thumb kept working my clit in tight, wet circles, and he watched my face contort from the pleasure, his own expression mirroring mine. He was feeding off my pleasure like it was his own.

"Look at you." he said, his voice rough with unadulterated lust. "Taking my fingers so fucking good. You always did. You always took everything I gave you."

All I could do was moan in response, broken and breathless, as my hips rocked against his hand.

"Tell me how it feels." he demanded.

"Good." I gasped. "So fucking good, Matt."

"Yeah?" His fingers pumped faster and deeper, the wet sounds of my cunt filling the room. "You gonna cum for me, pretty girl?"

Behind me, I could hear Chris. The rapid pumping of his fist around his cock, the broken moans slipping past his lips, and the rushed, ragged breaths that told me he was just as lost in this as I was.

"You're doing so good, baby." Chris panted, his voice coming out strained. "Keep going."

I was overwhelmed. The praise, the filth, the feeling of Matt's fingers inside me, and Chris' voice in my ear, it was too much and not enough all at once. My body was wound tight, trembling on the edge, and Matt could feel it.

"That's it." he grinned, his thumb pressing harder against my clit. "Come on now. I've got you. Let go for me."

And I surrendered completely. The orgasm crashed through me, violent and all-consuming. My back arched, my nails dug into Matt's shoulders, and a cry tore from my throat as I came undone on his lap and hand, slick, hot, and shuddering.

He worked me through it, fingers slowing, more gentler now, drawing out every last wave until I was slumped against him, gasping, with my forehead pressed to his.

Matt pulled his hand away, and I watched through heavy-lidded eyes as he brought his soaked fingers up to his mouth, licking them clean with a satisfied smile.

Chris' voice came from behind me, low and gruff, cutting through the haze of my spent orgasm. "Come here. Let me clean up that mess."

I peeled myself off Matt's lap, my legs shaky, and my skin still humming from the aftershocks. Chris reached for me, his hands finding my waist, guiding me down onto the bed beside him. He moved over me, settling between my trembling thighs, and I felt the cool air hit the slick evidence of what Matt had done to me.

He looked down at where I was still dripping and splayed open, and let out a hum of approval. "Fuck," he murmured, licking his lips. "You made such a mess for my brother, huh? Such a slut for him, and you couldn't help yourself."

I whimpered at his dirty words as he lowered his head, his breath warm against my oversensitive skin. His tongue traced a slow line through my folds, collecting every drop of what Matt had caused. The sensitivity sent a jolt through my body, and I bucked against his mouth, a broken cry escaping my lips.

"Chris—"

"Shh." he soothed, his voice vibrating against my clit. "I've got you."

His mouth was different from Matt's. Slower and more tender in a way that made my chest ache. He licked into me like he was savouring something precious, his tongue circling my clit with gentle precision that built a new pressure low in my belly. My hand found his hair, tangling in the soft strands, keeping him close as I rolled my hips against his face.

I looked down, to watch Chris work, and that's when I saw Matt.

He had moved, kneeling beside me on the bed, his hand wrapped around his cock. It was just as I remembered, thick, pink, and heavy. The tip was already glistening with precum, and my mouth watered at the sight.

Fuck, I missed his cock.

Matt caught me staring and grinned, that familiar, wicked grin that had always undone me. "You wanna taste it, don't you?" His voice was rough, but strained. "I can see it in your eyes."

I nodded, already reaching for him, my hand wrapping around his shaft. He was hot and silky in my grip, and I pumped him slowly, watching the way his stomach tightened with each stroke.

"Let me feel that pretty mouth of yours on me." he ordered. "I know you suck dick good. You always did."

I leaned forward, my tongue darting out to catch the bead of precum at his tip. The taste of him flooded my senses, it was salty, familiar, and him. I simultaneously moaned at the sensation of Chris' tongue still working through me between my legs.

I wrapped my lips around the mushroom head, taking Matt in slowly, my eyes locked on his. His breath hitched as I hollowed my cheeks, sucking gently before pulling back to trace the length of his shaft with my tongue.

"Fuck," he hissed, his hand finding my hair. "Just like that."

I took him deeper, letting him slide past my lips until he hit the back of my throat. The vibration of my moan, pulled from me by Chris' relentless mouth, rippled through Matt's cock, and he bucked his hips with a sharp groan.

"Shit." he gasped. "You're gonna make me lose it."

His grip tightened in my hair, and he started to move, fucking my mouth with slow, deep thrusts. Each one pushed him further down my throat, and I took it, my eyes watering, and my hands gripping his thighs for balance.

"Look at you." he praised, his voice sounding ragged. "Taking me so fucking well. Good girl."

Below me, I felt Chris humping the mattress, his hips rutting against the sheets as he ate me out with increasing urgency. His moans were muffled against my cunt, but I could feel them vibrating through me, adding another layer to the overwhelming pleasure.

I was floating. Caught between two bodies that knew exactly how to take me apart.

Matt's thrusts grew faster and more desperate. "I'm close." he warned, his voice strained. "You want it? You want me to cum in that pretty mouth?"

I moaned my answer around him, the sound muffled and broken.

My own orgasm crested suddenly, crashing through me as Chris' tongue pressed hard against my clit. My back arched, a scream caught in my throat as I came undone around nothing, my hips grinding against Chris' face as he worked me through it.

The vibration of my climax sent Matt over the edge. With a guttural groan, he spilled into my mouth, hot and thick, flooding my tongue. I swallowed around him, taking every drop as he pulsed against my lips.

"That's it." he groaned. "Take it. Take all of it."

When Matt finally pulled out, his chest was heaving, and his eyes were blown wide with satisfaction.

He looked down at me, a gratified smile spreading across his face. "Open."

I parted my lips open, showing him the empty cavern of my mouth.

"Good girl." he said, his thumb brushing across my lower lip. "You took all of it."

Pride bloomed warmly across my chest, hearing Matt praise me like that.

My attention strayed from Matt as Chris crawled up my body, and his lips found mine in a kiss. He tasted like me, and I moaned into his mouth as he rolled us both onto our sides, facing each other. His hand cupped my jaw, tilting my face to deepen the kiss, and I melted into him instantly. His mouth was tender, and every movement felt like he was saying I love you without actually saying the words. His thumb traced the line of my cheekbone as he kissed me, slow and thorough.

I turned fully towards Chris, my hand finding his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath my palm. His tongue swept across my lower lip, coaxing, and I opened for him, letting him in. The kiss deepened, and I felt his smile against my mouth, that sweet, familiar smile that had made me fall for him in the first place.

Then I felt Matt. He settled on my other side, the mattress dipping under his weight, the heat of his body seeping into my skin before he even touched me. His fingers found my thigh, trailing upwards with a slowness that made my skin prickle. They danced across my mound, featherlight and teasing, before skimming up my stomach and over my ribs.

His hand then found my breast again, and he cupped it, squeezing gently, as his thumb circled my nipple until it hardened under his touch. The sensation made me gasp into Chris' mouth.

Soon after, Matt's lips found my neck, and he wasn't gentle about it. He bit down, just enough to sting, before his tongue soothed the spot, definitely leaving a mark of him on me. His mouth traveled down my jaw, open, wet, and filthy, and I felt the scrape of his teeth against my skin.

"Missed the way you taste." he murmured against my throat. "Missed the sounds you make when I touch you."

Matt’s fingers rolled my nipple, pinching lightly, and I whimpered, breaking the kiss with Chris to arch into Matt's touch. My head fell back, and Matt took full advantage, his mouth latching onto the column of my throat, sucking hard enough to leave a mark I'd find tomorrow.

Chris didn't stop. His lips found my shoulder, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses along the slope. His hand slid down my back, fingers tracing the ridge of my spine, before settling on my ass. He squeezed, kneading the flesh, his touch firm and possessive in a completely different way.

The contrast was driving me insane.

Chris was romance, slow kisses and gentle caresses, the kind of touch that made me feel cherished and safe. His hand massaged my ass with a tenderness that bordered on worship, as his lips trailed soft patterns across my skin.

Whereas Matt was filth, bites, bruises, and hungry hands that took what they wanted. His mouth worked my jaw, my throat, and my collarbone, leaving a trail of wet, open kisses that made my breath come in short, sharp gasps. His hand never left my breast, rolling, pinching, and teasing until I was writhing between them.

I turned towards Matt, my body seeking his, arching into his touch like a plant reaching for sunlight. He caught my face in his hand and kissed me hard, and it was nothing like Chris' kiss. It was all tongue, teeth, and desperation, as his mouth claimed mine like he was trying to devour me from the inside out. I moaned into him, and he swallowed the sound, his grip tightening in my hair.

Chris shifted behind me, his hand moving my hair out of the way, exposing the back of my neck. His lips pressed there, soft and warm, a stark contrast to the brutal kiss Matt was giving me. His fingers continued their exploration of my ass, squeezing and massaging, his touch lingering in a way that made me feel cherished.

It was two entirely different kinds of worship. And both of them were undoing me in their own ways.

Matt broke the kiss first, panting. "God, I forgot how good you feel." he heaved, as his thumb traced my lower lip. "Every fucking thing about you is perfect."

Behind me, Chris' hand left my ass, and I heard the slick sound of him stroking himself. Then I felt the blunt pressure of his cock nudging against my opening from behind, sliding through the wetness that still coated my folds.

I softly gasped against Matt's mouth, my back arching, and Matt’s tongue swept in, swallowing every sound I made, sealing it with a kiss.

Chris' voice came low and rough against my ear. "This okay?"

I managed a broken sound that might have been yes, and he took it as permission.

Chris pushed in slowly. So slowly I felt every inch of him stretching me open, filling me inch by inch. I was still wet from everything that had happened, from Matt's fingers, Chris' mouth, and my own cumulative orgasms, making him slide in almost effortlessly, the wet sound of it loud and obscene in the otherwise quiet room.

"Fuck." Chris gasped, his forehead pressing against my shoulder. "You feel—fuck, baby." He then bottomed out, his hips flush against my ass, and I felt so full I couldn't breathe.

He started to move. Slow, deep thrusts that reached places I didn't know existed, each one pushing me further into Matt's mouth. My hands scrambled for purchase, one finding Matt's shoulder, and the other twisting in the sheets, as Chris set a rhythm that was steady and relentless.

Matt broke the kiss, pulling back just enough to look at me. His eyes were dark, pupils blown wide, and his lips were wet and swollen. His hand slid down my stomach, fingers finding my clit, and began to circle it in time with Chris' thrusts.

"You like that?" Matt's voice was rough, teasing. "Getting fucked by my brother while I watch? Look at you, can't even keep your eyes open."

I tried to respond, but Chris thrusted deeper, hitting something that made my words dissolve into a moan.

"She loves it." Chris grunted, answering for me. "Can feel her clenching around me."

Matt's grin was filthy. "Yeah? She always did love attention."

Chris' hand gripped my thigh, fingers digging into the soft muscle, holding me open for him as he fucked into me. His pace was persistent, each thrust pushing me harder against Matt's hand.

And then Matt's voice cut through the haze, as his eyes locked on mine. "Wait, Chris." His hand came up, cupping my jaw, turning my face towards his. His thumb traced across my lower lip, and I felt the weight of his gaze like a physical thing. "I need to feel that pussy squeeze my cock and cum on it. Might never get the chance again."

The crude words stole the air from my lungs.

Behind me, Chris let out a sound, something between a laugh and a groan. "Fair enough." He pulled out slowly, and the absence of him left me aching and feeling empty. But before I could adjust, Matt was already moving.

He shifted me, guiding me so my leg wrapped around his hip, as he positioned himself at my needy, quivering hole. Matt’s chest was pressed up against mine, and from behind, I felt Chris' warmth at my back, his knees bracketing my shoulders as he knelt above us.

Matt pushed into me in one smooth motion, with no hesitation or gentle easing. His thickness stretched me in a way that made my eyes roll back, making my head fall against Chris' thigh.

"Oh—fuck—"

There was no mercy in Matt’s pace. He set a rhythm that was hard and fast, his hips slapping against mine as he drove into me again and again. My body remembered him, the weight of him, and the fullness of him, as it opened up for him like it had been waiting five years for this exact moment.

The difference between them was staggering.

Chris was longer and slender, hitting places deep inside me with a precision that made me see stars. Matt was thicker and fuller, stretching me open with every thrust, filling me in a way that made me feel like I was being split apart in the best possible way.

Neither was better. They were just... different. Both good in their own way and undoing me in ways I couldn't articulate.

My back arched off the mattress, my body twisting as Matt fucked into me. From this angle, I could see Chris above me. He was kneeling behind my head, his knees planted on either side of my shoulders. He was stroking himself slowly, his cock slick and straining, as his eyes were fixed on the spot where Matt's thick length plunged into me over and over.

I could see everything. The way his jaw was tight, and the way his chest heaved with each ragged breath. His gaze met mine through the haze of pleasure, and there was something soft in his eyes… something fond.

"You're doing so good, baby." His voice was rough and strained, but warm. "Taking him so well. Look at you—fuck. That's my girl."

I tried to respond, but all that came out was a broken moan as Matt drove into me deeper.

"You like that, huh?" Chris continued, his hand speeding up on his cock. "You like getting fucked by both of us?"

I managed a keening sound, something that might have been yes or please or don't stop. It didn't matter. The noise was enough.

Matt's mouth was on my neck, sucking, biting, and marking me with a desperation that bordered on feral. His teeth scraped against my pulse point, and he soothed the sting with his tongue before moving lower, leaving a trail of bruises down my throat. I felt each one bloom against my skin, and the thought of waking up tomorrow with his marks on me while I was dating Chris, sent a thrill straight through me.

He was on a mission. Licking, sucking, and claiming every inch of exposed skin he could reach while his cock kept driving into me with that relentless rhythm.

Chris was still talking from above, his voice filled with pride. "You're so pretty like this. I knew you'd look perfect between us." And all I could do was let out a pathetic, broken whimper.

Matt's hand found my clit, pressing hard, circling in time with his thrusts. His face was pressed against the crook of my neck, as his breaths came out hot and ragged. "I'm close." he gritted out. "Cum with me. I need to feel you."

With one more deep stroke, and his thumb pressing hard against my clit, I shattered.

My orgasm crashed through me, violent and consuming, as my walls clenched around Matt's cock so hard that he groaned, making his hips stutter. He followed me over the edge, burying himself deep and spilling his load inside me with a guttural sound.

Above me, Chris' breath caught. I watched his head tip back, his hand moving faster, and then he groaned, long and low. He burst, and I felt hot stripes of cum paint across my stomach and ribs.

For a long moment, there was nothing but heavy breathing.

Matt collapsed first, his forehead dropping to my chest, his body feeling heavy and warm. Chris followed, lowering himself down, curling around my other side, his face burying in the curve of my neck. I laid between them, completely spent, my limbs feeling too heavy to move.

But I felt everything. Chris' release cooled across my stomach, trickling slowly down my sides, and Matt's was leaking out of me, warm and wet, spreading against my thighs. And my own arousal amidst it all, clung to my skin, sticky.

The three of us, laid in bed in a heap of tangled limbs, completely undone. I stared at the ceiling, my chest rising and falling from my slow, deep breaths, and let myself exist in the aftermath of what had just happened.

The brothers were still pressed against me, as Matt's lips were brushing lazily against my sternum, and Chris' nose was nuzzling into my hair. Neither of them moved to pull away from me.

The silence stretched, it was thick but comfortable, and was filled only with the sound of us remembering how to breathe again.

Then Matt's voice rumbled against my skin, rough and wrecked, but thoroughly satisfied. "So," A chuckle vibrated through his chest. "Have we reached a settlement?"

I felt Chris huff a laugh behind me, his arm tightening around my waist. "Yeah, baby. I think we deserve a verdict after that performance."

I groaned, the sound pathetic and strained, barely more than a whimper. My voice came out hoarse, scraped raw from all the moaning, gasping, and crying. "I don't— I can't..."

They both waited. They looked patient, but very much amused at my speechlessness.

"I don't know." I finally managed, and the words slurred together like I was drunk. Because I was drunk on them, on the way they'd taken me apart and put me back together, and on the feeling of being completely, utterly spent between two bodies that had worshiped me into oblivion.

Matt lifted his head, looking down at me with heavy-lidded eyes. His lips were swollen, and his hair a mess. He looked absolutely debauched. "That's not an answer."

"It's the only one you're getting." I mumbled, my eyes fluttering closed.

Chris pressed a kiss to my shoulder. "That's okay. We've got the whole house to ourselves for the weekend."

My eyes flew open.

Matt's grin spread slow and wicked, his teeth flashing in the dim light. "Plenty of time to reach a unanimous decision."

I stared at them both, at Matt's filthy smile and at Chris' warm, knowing gaze over my shoulder, and let out a breath that was half laugh and half groan. “Ah, fuck.” I muttered.

They both softly laughed, the sound mingling in the dark, and I felt Chris' arm tighten around me while Matt's hand slid down my hip, squeezing once before settling.

I was trapped between them, but I wouldn’t dream of being anywhere else.

A/N: this wasnt supposed to be this long but I got carried away oops 🫣🤫

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[sweetnsturns]

kiss it better—c.s.

✧ bsf chris!, friends to lovers, dom!chris, teasing, clit stimulation, unprotected sex

✧ summary: you're sexually frustrated after months without sex and during a seemingly innocent hangout with chris, tensions and casual touches escalate until he offers to "help you out," finally satisfying your needs.

✧ word count: 2.3k

✧ authors note: i need to go to horny jail bc why have i been writing nonstop. also sue me im a sucker for friends to lovers. (also also if u saw this posted earlier no u didnt that was an accident.)

it's been three months. three long months since your last hookup, and your body was making you pay for it. you felt exposed, every casual touch from a stranger felt like a jolt. it was hell.

so when chris texted you, "come over? we can chill. i'm tired," you almost cried with relief. you needed the comfort, the platonic intimacy, the distraction from the constant arousal that had become your every day.

he answers the door in gray sweatpants and a worn out band tee, looking soft and domestic and completely harmless.

you hand him the takeout you brought, and he grins, pulling you into a quick, one armed hug.

"missed you," he says, his voice warm in your ear. it's a normal thing to say, but it sends a shiver down your spine.

you settle on the couch, a decent amount of space between you. he puts on some dumb action movie you've both seen a dozen times and you dig into the food.

for a while, it's fine. it's normal. you're laughing, yelling at the screen, arguing about which character has the most ridiculous death scene.

but then he leans forward to grab the remote, and his arm brushes against your breast. it's nothing. a quick touch. but your entire body reacts. you feel your nipples stiffen instantly, a familiar heat pooling in your gut. you shift, pressing your thighs together under the blanket you'd pulled over your lap.

he flops back against the cushions, slinging his arm up along the back of the sofa behind you. "god, i'm exhausted," he sighs, letting his head fall back.

you can see the pulse ticking in his neck and the way his shirt's pulled tight across his chest. he's just laid out for you like that, all long and tall and unfairly hot.

"long week?" you ask, trying to keep your voice steady.

"you have no idea." his eyes are closed. he looks vulnerable. "just… wanna relax."

you nod, then hesitate. "scoot down a bit."

he cracks an eye open. "why?"

"just… come here." you pat the space between your legs. "you look like you're about to fall over."

he considers it for a second, then shrugs, shifting so he's lying with his cheek against your chest, you wrap your arms around his back, pulling the blanket up over both of you.

it's better. it's worse. the solid weight of him against you is comforting, but it's also igniting every frustrated cell in your body. you can feel the warmth of his skin through his t-shirt, the steady rise and fall of his breathing.

you can smell his shampoo, something clean and woodsy. your fingers start to twitch against his back, itching to tangle in his hair.

this is chris. your chris. your best friend. get a fucking grip.

you try to focus on the movie. you really do. but then he shifts, settling in deeper, and he presses right against your core. a tiny, involuntary gasp escapes your lips. you freeze, hoping he didn't hear.

he didn't seem to. but a few minutes later, he does it again, a subtle roll of his hips as he gets comfortable. it's innocent. it means nothing. but to your desperate body, it does.

you can feel yourself getting wet, a slick warmth spreading between your thighs. you press them together harder, a useless attempt to calm down the ache.

"you okay?" he murmurs, his voice a low rumble against your chest. "you're all tense."

"fine," you squeak. "just… cold."

he hums, a low, skeptical sound.

his hand comes up to cover yours where it's resting on his side.

"your hands are freezing," he says, rubbing his thumb over your fingers.

"told you," you manage, your voice tight.

he chuckles, a soft, breathy sound that vibrates right through you. he brings your intertwined hands up to his mouth, blowing warm air onto your fingers.

it's an act of simple kindness, but his lips are so close to your skin, and all you can think about is them somewhere else.

"better?" he asks, his eyes still closed.

"mhm," you lie. you're burning up.

the movie ends, and the menu screen starts looping, the annoying theme music filling the silence.

neither of you moves to turn it off. the air in the room feels thick, heavy.

then, he shifts again. it's not subtle this time. it's a deliberate, slow roll of his hips against you. and you feel it. the hard, thick line of his cock pressing firmly against you.

your entire body goes rigid. your breath catches in your throat. he's hard. he's hard, and he's pressed against you, and he knows.

"chris?" your voice is barely a whisper.

he doesn't answer. he just does it again, a slower, more deliberate grind. a low groan rumbles in his chest, a sound you feel more than hear.

"you're squirming," he says, his voice thick and husky. "have been all night."

you can't deny it.

"i…"

"shhh," he murmurs, finally turning his head to look at you. his eyes are fucked out already, blown wide and black with it, lashes low and heavy like he's halfway to wrecked just from looking at you. "just… feel it."

his hair's all fucked up from the couch, lips parted and pink, and he looks wrecked and hungry and hard, the line of his jaw tight, and you can see his chest rising and falling like he's barely holding himself back.

he rolls his hips again, a perfect, filthy pressure against your clit. a whimper tears from your throat. it's embarrassing, how responsive you are, how little it takes.

"yeah," he breathes, a triumphant smirk playing on his lips. "that's what i thought."

he lets go of your hand, bringing his up to cup your jaw. his thumb strokes your cheek, his touch gentle. "how long has it been?"

you know what he's asking. your face flames with shame. "too long."

"poor thing," he coos, and it should be condescending, but it just sounds hot. "all wound up with no one to help you."

his knee slides between your legs, pressing right up against your soaked leggings. you gasp, your hips jolting forward involuntarily.

"so eager," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear. "tell me what you need. let me help you out, baby..."

you shake your head, burying your face in his neck. you can't say it. admitting it out loud would make it real, would cross the boundary you've been clinging to.

he chuckles, a low, dark sound. "no? okay. i'll guess."

his hand slides down your side, over your hip, and comes to rest on your ass, squeezing the flesh through your leggings. you moan, a broken, needy sound.

"need someone to touch you?" he whispers, his other hand coming up to tangle in your hair, tugging your head towards him gently. "need someone to take care of this tight little pussy?"

you can only nod, your eyes squeezed shut.

"look at me," he commands. you force your eyes open. his gaze is intense, boring into you. "i've been right here this whole time. all you had to do was ask."

he leans in, and for a heart stopping second, you think he's going to kiss you.

but he stops, his lips hovering a breath away from yours.

"beg for it," he whispers. "tell me how much you need it."

something inside you snaps. the frustration, the desperation, the weeks of pent up need.

"please," you choke out, the word ragged. "chris, please. i need it. i need you."

that's all he was waiting for. his mouth is on yours, hungry and demanding.

it's a kiss of starvation, his tongue is in your mouth, claiming you, and you kiss him back with equal desperation, your hands gripping his hair, pulling him closer.

his hand slides from your ass around to the front, pushing between your legs. he groans into your mouth when he feels the wetness seeping through your leggings.

"fuck," he pants, breaking the kiss. "you're soaked. god, you really needed this, didn't you?"

he doesn't wait for an answer, just pushes your leggings down, his fingers finding your slick, swollen folds. you cry out, your hips bucking against his hand as he circles your clit.

"so sensitive," he murmurs, watching your face as he slides a finger inside you. "gonna come just from this? just from my fingers?"

you can't form words, just babble his name as he adds a second finger, curling them just right.

his thumb presses against your clit, rubbing in tight, circles as his fingers pump inside you.

you're grinding down on his hand, shameless in your desperation, chasing the release that's been building for months.

"look at you," he breathes, his voice thick with awe and satisfaction. "so fucking beautiful."

you can feel the orgasm building, your thighs starting to shake. "chris…i'm gonna…"

"no," he says, pulling his hand away completely.

the loss is so sudden, you cry out a wounded, frustrated sound. your eyes fly open, glaring at him. "what the fuck?"

he just smirks, a slow curve of his lips. he brings his glistening fingers to his mouth, his eyes locked on yours as he licks them clean (which was hotter than you wanted to admit). "not yet. you don't get to come that easy."

he shifts, kneeling between your legs, taking off his shirt in one smooth motion.

mouth goes dry at the sight of his chest, the lean muscle dusted with hair that trails down into his sweatpants. he hooks his thumbs into the waistband, pausing.

"you want this?" he asks, palming his hard cock through the fabric. it looks thick, heavy, and your whimper in response.

you nod, eyes wide, transfixed by the movement of his hand.

"use your words," he commands, his voice dropping to that low and rumbly tone. "tell me what you want."

you swallow past the lump in your throat. "i want you to fuck me."

"how?" he presses, dragging his sweatpants down just enough to free himself. your breath hitches. he's bigger than you expected, thick and flushed, curving up towards his stomach. he wraps a hand around it, giving it a slow, lazy stroke. "tell me how you want me to fuck you."

"hard," you whisper, then say it louder, with more conviction. "i want you to fuck me hard."

his eyes flash with desire. "that's my girl."

he leans over you, bracing his hands on either side of your head. he doesn't enter you, just lets the head of his cock drag through your wet folds, bumping against your clit. you whimper, lifting your hips, trying to take him in, but he pulls back, teasing you.

"so impatient," he tuts, but he's smiling. "been thinking about this, haven't you? lying in your bed at night, touching yourself, wanting to be fucked like this?"

"yes," you admit, the word a breathy confession. "god, yes."

he lines himself up then, pressing just the tip inside. you gasp at the stretch. he pauses there, torturing you.

"who gets to make you feel like this?" he asks, his voice a low growl.

"you," you moan, trying to push your hips up and take more of him.

"that's right."

with one smooth, powerful thrust, he buries himself in you. you cry out, your back arching off the couch. it's a painfully good stretch, the feeling of being completely full. he stills for a moment, letting you adjust, his forehead pressed against yours.

"fuck," he groans, his voice broken. "so tight. feels like you were made for me."

then he starts to move. it's exactly what you asked for. hard, deep strokes that make you gasp. the couch is creaking with every snap of his hips.

his hands are gripping your thighs, holding you open as he pounds into you, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room.

"this what you needed?" he grunts, his rhythm brutal. "to be fucked like a little slut? is that why you've been so tense?"

you can only moan in response, your hands clutching at his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin. the pleasure is overwhelming.

"chris… please," you beg.

"come on," he pants, his thrusts becoming erratic. "come for me."

he shifts his angle, hitting that spot deep inside you that makes your vision go white.

"that's it, that's it," he groans, fucking you until you're a whimpering, oversensitive mess.

he pulls out suddenly, and you whine at the loss. he flips you over with surprising strength, maneuvering you onto your hands and knees. he grabs your hips, pulling your ass up in the air, and slides back into you from behind.

the new angle is devastating. he's hitting even deeper now, letting out little grunts with every thrust. one of his hands leaves your hip to tangle in your hair, pulling your head back.

"look at me," he commands, his voice rough. you twist, looking back at him over your shoulder. his face is flushed, his eyes dark. "who's fucking you this good?"

"you are," you gasp, his grip on your hair tightening just enough to send a jolt of pleasure-pain down your spine. "you're fucking me so good."

"damn right i am," he grunts, his rhythm faltering. "gonna fill this little pussy up. you want that? want me to come inside you?"

"yes," you sob, pushing back against him, meeting him thrust for thrust. "please, chris. come in me."

with a final, brutal thrust, he buries himself deep and stills. you feel him pulse inside you, a warm flood filling you up as he groans your name, his body shuddering with the force of his release.

he collapses against your back, his weight pinning you to the couch cushions, both of you breathing heavily in the sudden silence. for a long moment, neither of you move.

finally, he presses a soft kiss to your shoulder.

"so," he murmurs, his voice muffled against your skin. "still tense?"

[girliemattitude]

₊ ݁⟡⋆˚𝜗𝜚 𝒫!ℒ𝒾𝓃𝓀𝓈 𝜗𝜚˚⋆⟡ ݁₊

🔞 Mature Content Ahead! 🔞

-> 𝘍𝘸𝘣!𝘔𝘢𝘵𝘵 ⟡ ݁₊

-On all fours for you

-You haven’t seen each other in a week

-My eyes only (Matt’s phone)📱

-way too intimate to be just casual

-Way too intimate to be just casual (2)

-Matt the munch

-Backseat of his car

-He drags you out of the party to fuck you in the bathroom

-Teasing you

-My eyes only (Matt’s phone 2) 📱

-Come over, I’m horny (sending him a video) 📱

-Fuck the stress out of me

-Right after you ask him to stay a little longer

-Dripping

-He does it so good

-> 𝘋𝘢𝘥!𝘔𝘢𝘵𝘵 ⟡ ݁₊

-Taking a bath after putting the kids to bed

-Late night sex

-Home alone

-Slow quiet strokes while the kids are napping

-After a stressful day he makes it up to you (Dad!Matt’s a munch)

-Taking it out on you

-Camping (Anniversary trip)

-It’s been a while so he’s not wasting time

-After date night

-Sitting on his face

-wifey Material

-From the side

-Titty sucking

-Before his meeting

⟡ℬℴ𝓃𝓊𝓈 -> 𝘊𝘩𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘬 1 & 2⟡ ݁₊

A/N: If you’re a minor and still chose to interact with this, that decision is yours. I can’t control who interacts with my posts, but it is my responsibility to give a proper warning, which I made sure to include at the top of the post :) Also, if you’re on my taglist and you’ve stated that you’re underage in your bio, you were not tagged in this post because it contains visual graphic content. I’m not saying no one watches porn, but just in case… you’ll still get tagged in my other posts, so don’t worry 🤍

©girliemattitude

Taglist: @nialler-lover @bernardsbendystraws @lovingchrissposts @theowensturniolo @courta13 @sturnsoftt @xoxochrissgf @sturnililio @grace-sturnz @sturns-mermaid @izzylovesmatt

[kailayahsturns]

bestfriend!chris bends you over the counter

Your families kitchen island was cold against your forearms, but yet every single part of your body was buzzing with overwhelmingly hot pleasure. Chris stood behind you, dick pressing against your cervix as his hips moved at a quick pace, mouth parted in pleasure, trying his best not to smirk as he listened to the genuine sounds that you couldn't help slip past your glossed lips.

"mmmp!" You squeaked, causing chris to look down, tongue gliding along his teeth with a look of pure amusement on his face. "That's it, baby, talk to me," He grunted, large hands moving from your tangled hair to slide down along your back, grinning further when the force of his hand made your back arch.

Your walls clenched around his length, pulsing hotly at how close he was, burried into your pussy where he belonged. His hips stuttered, hissing under his breath. "Y'like that, don't you?" You physically couldn't even respond, fucked dumb on his cock as you dropped your forehead onto the marble counter in front of you. "I'm gonna cum" Your voice was torn apart from the high pitched yelps and gasps Chris was pulling from you.

"Just like that - c'mon mama," Chris groaned, feeling himself close to his own release as he sped up. His hips smacking hard against your ass, eyes falling down before throwing his head back with a groan at the sight in front of him.

"Chris!" You moaned loudly as the first wave of your orgasm torn through your shaking body. As your juices coated his cock, Chris's thrusted forward once, deep and hard as he spilled into your cunt, reaching around your body to circle your clit, riding you through the pleasure.

Your legs shook, struggling to stay upright as your eyes stayed clenched shut, noisy moans now airing into soft whimpers. Chris's hand dropped soon, and you both sat in the silence, other than each other's heavy panting.

first post, yay lmk to be on taglist

[starrsturns]

⟡ ݁₊ ᥫ᭡ #bringbackdryhumping

⤷ where you and chris get needy while smoking

fwb!chris, smut, sexual content, dry humping/grinding, no actual sex, smoking, usage of weed, kissing/making out, shotgunning, pet names, cumming in pants, swearing, kinda sub-ish chris? (not proofread)

smoke drifts lazily between you and chris, encasing you in a metaphorical and literal hazy cloud. your thighs rest either side of his hips, bracketing them.

you take hit of the blunt you’ve been passing back and forth for the past ten minutes before connecting your lips to chris’s in a high, sensual kiss, exhaling the smoke into his mouth.

“mmfph—fuck.” he groans against your mouth when you nip at his bottom lip, playfully tugging it.

you break the kiss to trail wet, sloppy kisses down his jaw and onto his neck, sucking on the skin, making sure to leave a mark.

“shiit angel, fuckin’ possessive today huh?” his voice comes out in a low rasp, indicating how turned on he is. although you don’t need any other signals when you can clearly feel his growing bulge against pressing up against you through your jeans.

your lips leave his neck and return to his own—as he takes another drag of the blunt, and this time exhales into into your mouth with a soft, pleasured sound.

your hands slide from the back of his neck to thread through his hair, tugging lightly to provoke a reaction from him. you’re pleased when he lets out a stifled sharp intake of breath, clearly enjoying your manicured nails scratching his scalp and tangling in his dark curls.

the kiss becomes more heated, and soon you two are lost in the moment. the blunt lays forgotten on his bedside table, having already done its job. his dick twitches beneath you, causing your hips to roll forward on instinct.

the friction of his jeans through your thin cotton shorts is perfect, dragging just right. so you do it again, this time with more purpose. he groans into your mouth, hands trailing down your sides to grip your hips, grinding you down on him. you form a slow, sensual rhythm, stimulating you both as your lips locking continue to be the only noise in his dim, weed-smelling room.

chris swears under his breath as his dick jumps from beneath the denim. “shi—shit,” he says breathily. his hips buck to meet yours, creating a more intense feeling that makes you gasp when the seam of his jeans catches on your clothed clit.

“fuck, keep doin’ that.” he pants into your mouth, grinding his hips up so you two are moving in tandem now, synchronised in your pleasure.

you begin to feel your release coiling low in your belly almost embarrassingly fast. maybe it’s the weed in your system, but everything feels heightened, hypersensitive.

you can tell chris is close too, by the way his low groans have shifted into soft, muffled whimpers and shaky breaths.

your movements become slightly more desperate as you grind and rut your hips against his clothed dick, chasing the delicious friction.

you’re sure your panties must be soaked through from how worked up you are—something that chris’ll definitely tease you about later.

the pleasure mounts and you cum with a soft cry, burying your face in his shoulder as chris cums too, his hips lifting and pressing into yours to rub his cock against you through his orgasm.

the air stills, and the only noises left in chris’s bedroom are your shared shallow pants.

“shit.” you look down at the mess between you, seeing that you’ve soaked his jeans. “sorry.” you say, slightly amused.

“all that from just grindin’ on my dick?” chris teases, nipping at your jaw playfully. “oh fuck off.” you prod him, rolling your eyes.

“you’re acting like you didn’t just cum in your pants.”

💌 freya yaps . . . #needthat #wantthat #cravethat

comment under this or this post to be added to my taglist.

taglist . . . @h3arts4nat, @heartz4lily, @bernardsmulti, @whore4chris, @aaliyah-sturns, @mrssturnioloo, @chrepsi, @bernwentonio, @babysweetheartmelia, @matts1989, @angel-sturn1, @chrisfavgirl, @courta13, @vqniiiiq, @sturntiolo, @lilysturnz, @chrisssiren, @conspiracy-ash, @chrisbendmeovernow, @love4madii, @crjsss, @ariieeesworld, @pupschris, @pepsipoet, @sturncoast

scallop divider . . . @chrisssiren

layout ib . . . @delilahsturniolo

© starrsturns

[twitchchrisera]

Um…. Can we talk about how much bigger his looks?!?

Not in a fat way.. in like a broad shoulder muscle way. Please can he pick me up and throw me. Like he’s a grown man now.

IM LOVING THE NEW REBRAND.