❀ audrey ❀

I’d pounce if he did that stance in front of me

HELLOOOOO

in which ₊˚ matt and reader meet each other at seven.

what happens when their shared moments of innocence suddenly perish?

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childhood best friends (angst & fluff, full-circle ending)

˖⋆࿐໋ for my angels who long to escape their old life and begin again.

honourable mention ⊹ ‧₊˚ for those in constant search of a place that feels like home.

word count ₊˚ 1.9k

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please picture me in the trees

i hit my peak at seven

you would say that your life never truly began before that fateful day when you were seven. it was the first day of first grade, and you were nervous, to say the least. you were nervous about not knowing anyone in your class, about being teased by the other students. you stood shyly on the side, your large backpack weighing your small shoulders down, as you watched the other students talk animatedly with one another. you thought that you were the only one in the whole class who felt the burden of loneliness, even isolation, within you. that was, however, until a boy in your class came up to you. “hi, i’m matt,” he said.

feet in the swing over the creek

i was too scared to jump in

the sound of children’s laughter flooded through the chilly outdoors. it was recess, and you were playing on the swingset with your new best friend, matt, and his two brothers, nick and chris. “look at what i can do,” chris said. he began to swing faster, and, just as he reached his highest point in the air, he jumped from the swing, landing on his feet on the asphalt. “wait, i wanna try,” matt exclaimed excitedly, running over to the swing chris had left unoccupied. matt followed exactly what chris had done, landing steadily on his feet. the three brothers laughed together.

matt looked at you. “you should try, it’s fun,” he told you happily. “i don’t know..” you said uncertainly. “it’ll be okay, i won’t let you fall,” matt assured you. “come on,” he grabbed your hand, running with you towards the swing. you sat down, and matt’s small hands helped push you higher and higher on the swing. as you got the hang of it, matt went to stand in front of the swing with his brothers. “jump!” he said, the three brothers encouraging you.

but i, i was high in the sky

with pennsylvania under me

you let go of your grip on the swing’s chain, leaping into the air as if you were as light as a feather. for a moment, it felt almost as if you were flying. you landed on your feet, stumbling slightly, before matt reached out to ensure you didn’t fall. “see, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” matt asked, the four of you laughing at your newfound playground activity.

sweet tea in the summer

cross your heart, won’t tell no other

as the school year ended, you found yourself being warmly welcomed into the sturniolo household. almost every summer day, the triplets parents, mary-lou and jimmy, would invite you over to spend the day with their children. you were grateful for them—you even viewed them as your family.

matt couldn’t help but wonder why you were spending so much time with his family, not that he was complaining. he loved your company. thinking back, however, he had never heard you speak about your family, peaking his curiosity.

when he asked his mother about it, she had told him that it wasn’t her business to tell, and he should talk with you. matt was left even more confused.

your braids like a pattern

love you to the moon and to saturn

matt walked into his parents bedroom one night, looking for his mother. when he found her, she wasn’t alone. you were sitting on mary lou’s lap on her bed, as she braided your hair. matt was confused at the sight. you had never spent the night at his house before, and you had a saddened look in your eyes.

“hi, honey,” mary lou said, upon noticing matt’s entrance into her room. at her words, you looked up at the doorway, spotting matt. matt had been expecting you to greet him. what he wasn’t expecting, however, was for you to look down at your lap, almost ashamed, after seeing him.

sensing your trepidation, mary lou finished securing the braids in your hair, before motioning for you to sit next to her. “come here, matt,” she said, making room for the two children to sit beside her against the pillows in front of the bed’s headboard.

matt sat down beside you. as the two children got comfortable under the covers, mary lou picked up a picture book from her bedside table, beginning to read aloud to the children. matt interlaced his small hand with yours, as you leaned your head against his shoulder, your tired eyes trying to follow along with the story. as you felt matt’s breathing grow fainter beside you, you couldn’t help but let the exhaustion overcome you, shutting your eyes. you fell asleep that night, feeling at home.

and i’ve been meaning to tell you

i think your house is haunted

as the days strewn together, matt couldn’t help but shake his curiosity over your prolonged stay at his house. one day, he decided to confront you about it. you, matt, chris and nick, were all sat in the living room. an intense game of mario kart was being played by nick and chris, who sat cross-crossed in front of the tv. as you and matt sat together on the couch watching the game, matt randomly asked, “do you have ghosts in your house?” you were caught off guard by the sudden question. “what?” you questioned, confused. “you’re barely ever at your house, is it haunted or something?” matt asked. the way that matt was asking you this was out of genuine curiosity, yet you still felt ashamed over being questioned about your house. “you could say so, yeah..” you said.

your dad is always mad and that must be why

feeling suddenly insecure about always being at the sturniolo’s home, you decided to take matt to yours. the pair of you had been walking together, enjoying the sunny day, and, as your house was within walking distance, you decided to invite him inside. you prayed that your parents would act civil since you were bringing a guest over, but your prayers went unanswered.

as you opened the door, the sound of a television blaring could be heard. matt looked at you, confused. you took his hand, walking into the threshold of your house. “hi, dad,” you said cautiously. your dad looked away from the television, drink in hand, at you and matt. “who is this?” your father questioned. “my friend, matt. i’ve told you about him..” you said, growing quieter. “who said you could bring a friend over?” your dad said angrily, his voice growing louder. “sorry,” you said, tears welling in your eyes.

matt stood there, unsure of what to do. he tugged slightly on your hand, wishing more than anything for the two of you to return back to his home. you understood him without words, making your way quickly back to the door, dragging matt with you. your dad was unbothered by this, his young child, leaving without a trace, returning his attention back to the television screen. as the two of you went back outside, heading in the direction of matt’s home, you remained silent, your hand still gripping his like a lifeline. in that moment, matt truly thought your house must be haunted.

and i think you should come live with me

and we can be pirates

a few days after matt’s first interaction with your father, he couldn’t help but stop his concern over your living situation from growing. but, he felt helpless. he was only seven, how was he supposed to make sure you lived somewhere better?

you and the triplets were sat in their bedroom, safely inside the fort the four of you had made. as the time passed—all of you having too much fun together to realize—mary lou came into the room, announcing that your parents wanted you to return home. the brothers whined at the news. “you should just live with us,” nick said. “i wish,” you said, as you left the fort, collecting your belongings. “when we grow up, we’ll live together, i promise,” matt told you. you looked at him, offering him a small smile at his words.

──── ୨୧ ────

cross my heart, won’t tell no other

and though i can’t recall your face

i still got love for you

the years passed by in a blur. you were no longer the seven-year-old girl you once were. matt knew this, yet that was the only version of you he could picture in his head. along the way, your paths had been separated. matt hadn’t seen you in years, yet his love for you never rested.

you were both 21 now, and, after not seeing you for years, he started to forget small details about you. as the time continued to pass, he was slowly forgetting the sound of your laugh, the way yours eyes would crinkle when you smiled, the freckles on your face. he hated himself for letting you slip through his fingers. just when he had everything—everyone he could have ever loved—it all disappeared in the blink of an eye.

matt never got over you, and he didn’t think he ever would. his childhood years were the best of his life, because of you. he thought of you everyday.

୨୧

matt’s daily thoughts about you never went unreciprocated. you missed him and his brothers more and more everyday. they were your solace when you felt like the world was against you. losing them made you slowly start to unravel.

your family life never got better—so you fled without a trace. your relationship with the triplets got intercepted without even a goodbye, as you escaped your previous life to live with your grandmother. what you had thought to be a blessing, however, proved to haunt you. you missed the triplets. more than anything—you missed matt. you were no longer a part of the sturniolo’s lives, but you wished nothing but the best for them, wherever they found themselves now.

your nostalgic thoughts about your former best friends—your former family—were thrown upon you when you saw an advertisement on the wall of the bus stop you were currently sitting in, displaying the numbers 333. triplets. even in the most unsuspecting of moments, your memories of the triplets creeped up on you. as you sat waiting for the next bus, you saw a figure start walking towards you.

୨୧

matt was making his way to the bus stop, in a slightly sour mood. his car needed repairing, and neither of his brothers wanted to take the bus with him, so he was left travelling alone. as he neared the bus stop, however, his eyes locked on a familiar figure, stalling his movements. matt stood still, mouth slightly ajar. there you were, sat with your legs crossed, looking at the passing cars. you hadn’t spotted him, yet he recognized you from a mile away. you looked the same, just older, wiser.

୨୧

you noticed a pair of dirty shoes stop next to you. you turned your head away from your thoughts and the sight of the cars, looking up. your eyes met a pair of blue ones you thought you would never see again. “hi,” matt said.

──── ୨୧ ────

passed down like folk songs

our love lasts so long

the sound of music occupied the busy walls of your home. you stood in front of matt as he held you in his arms, his hold firm yet delicate on your stomach. the two of you admired the fort that your daughters had made. “look at what we made!” your oldest said, her words coming out with a childish lisp due to her lack of front teeth. matt let go of you, making his way to the fort. “it looks great, honey,” he said, as he began to crawl inside. “come on,” he said, grabbing your hand to help you inside.

the two of you sat with your daughters inside the fort. as your children played amusedly with the toys their uncles had gifted them—childish giggles filling the air—matt looked over at you, a close-mouthed smile plastered on his face. he reached for your hand, interlacing it with his. you matched his smile, lowering your head to his shoulder, feeling more at home than ever before.

matt had kept his promise.

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notes ⋆. 𐙚 ₊˚

if you noticed the similarities between the beginning of the story and the end, i love u

a letter to my future children xx ₊˚

MMMM not doing well🤧✌️

pspspsps

jellycats and apple juice for sale this way ➡️

w malcolm todd and role model playing in the store

hennessy… come out and playyyyyy

Summary: while putting lipstick kisses on Matt he got a hard-on

"Matt, be still," you said sternly, placing a kiss on his cheeks, the lipstick leaving a mark. You leaned over to press another kiss on his cheek but couldn't reach it, so you straddled him.

Once you got both legs on each side of him, you pressed another kiss on his cheek." is this necessary" Matt looked up at you with kiss marks all over him. "yes," you said, fully sitting down on him while bringing your lips on his. he immediately kissed u back it was supposed to be sweet but, it quickly turned into him rutting on your clothed cunt.

a soft whimper escaped him, his head turning to the side as your lips moved down to his neck. "Something you want," you questioned, lips trailing down his neck.

"N-no," he said, face burning. "Hmm, so we gonna pretend you're not hard." Hearing you make fun of him makes him makes him whine. Hiding his face from embarrassment as he blushed. "Come on," you purred "You gotta tell me what you need, or imma leave, baby"

"No, no, no— please, Mommy, I need you— I need it, need it so bad," he whined, tugging at your shirt his hands moving up your shirt and instantly cups your breasts through the fabric of your bra.

"yeah? Need what" you say, grinding on his hard-on. He moans, meeting your thrust, groping your boobs. "n-need your hand, mama, please," he whimpers looking at you with hooded blue eyes

You scoot back on his thighs, pulling his sweats down, instantly putting my hand inside of his boxers and wrapping it around his cock. He was leaking so much it only made my job easier, pumping matt’s length at a quick pace while you prepper kisses on his neck, biting him.receiving a whine in response “hurts, mama”.

I moved my thumb to his tip, circling it before teasing his slit. Matt twitched in my hand, bucking his hips upwards. A loud whimper escaped him. “Taking it so well. Good boy,” he whined, covering his face it was too much he wanted no, he needed more.

His jaw goes slack as you speed up your movements, moans spilling out. You lean down and bite at his jawline. He grips onto the sheets beside him, holding fistfuls. I don't know how much longer I can last — need to cum" he whined. “shhh. You can take it for a little longer. Be a good boy for mommy.” you praise, smirking down on him.

“M’s so close, mmph—please, mommy, please! " tears streamed down his face, and his blue eyes were hazy. “Taking it so well. Good boy.” you praise. He was a babbling, crying, moaning mess under you. Hearing him moan made you so wet it's insane, but right now it's all about him.

“I can’t! s’too much!” he whines, thrashing his head on the bed. "do you want to cum" you asked him, your pace on his dick not stopping. "y-yes please please please," he whines, sitting up and smashing his lips on yours. messily kissing you and moaning into your mouth. "okay, cum" you said putting your mouth on his tip.

“I'm gonna— uhhhg..” he moans, eyes rolling back. It doesn’t take long before he releases it all in your mouth.“that’s it, such a good boy.” you grin. Fist fucking him through the aftershocks of his orgasm. As he got through it you sucked on his neck. he leaned into you, saying "Thank you mama" he mumbled "did so well for me, matt"

@chrislilcumslvt @chrepsi @drewstarkeyzwhore

dividers by @bernardsbendystraws

a/n: uhh...so yea

hell yeah🙂‍↕️✊

𝑴𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏 15 𝑴𝒊𝒏𝒖𝒕𝒆𝒔 1 | 𝑪.𝑺 & 𝑴.𝑺

Chris Sturniolo! & Matt Sturniolo! x f!reader

WARNINGS : smut, sort of a slow burn, part one of two, build-up, threesome (no incest ofc ew), taking turns with you, tit worship, possessive, oral (fem receiving, fingering, edging, praise, usage of "good girl" & "slut"

╭────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╮

╰────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╯

word count : 6k ♡

The bass thrummed through the crowded house, the air thick with sweat, cheap beer, and the haze of bad decisions waiting to happen.

You weren’t supposed to be here—hell, you weren’t supposed to be anywhere but wrapped up in the arms of your now ex-boyfriend.

But that was before you caught him fucking someone else, just last night.

You had sensed something was off for weeks. The late replies, the excuses, the way he barely touched you anymore. Maybe, deep down, you had already known. Maybe that’s why you went over to his place unannounced, your stomach twisting as you used the key he had given you months ago.

You had stepped inside, closing the door behind you with a soft click, your heartbeat a steady thud against your ribs.

Inside, the apartment was quiet—too quiet. There was no TV playing, no sound of his familiar shit music blasting from his speakers like it usually was. Something about the silence inside had felt wrong, like the air itself was holding its own breath, like there was something eerrie, something off, was lurking just out of sight.

Then, a sound.

Soft. Breathless.

A moan.

Your stomach twisted violently, your fingers tightening around your keys. Maybe you imagined it. Maybe it was the neighbors. Maybe—

Another moan crashed through the silence, louder this time.

And then—the unmistakable creak of his shitty, old bedframe.

Your body went cold.

Every step toward the bedroom felt like you were moving through quicksand, your breath shallow, your limbs heavy. The hallway stretched before you like a nightmare, a tunnel leading straight into something you didn’t want to see, something you should turn away from.

But in that moment, you just couldn’t.

Your fingers curled around the edge of the door, pushing it open just enough to see inside.

And there he was.

Your boyfriend—ex—gripping someone else's hips, fucking into her like she was the best thing he’d ever had.

Not you. Her.

She was on all fours, face buried in the mattress, blonde hair tangled between his fingers as he yanked her back onto him. He groaned her name, the same way he used to groan yours, his head tilting back in pleasure you had never once seen when he was inside you.

The room tilted.

For a moment, all you could do was stand there, frozen, like some kind of out-of-body experience had taken over. The air felt thick, suffocating, your lungs burning with the effort to breathe.

And then, as if he felt you there, his head snapped up.

Your eyes locked.

Shock. Guilt. Panic. It flickered across his face in rapid succession, but none of it lasted. Because what came next was something so much worse.

Annoyance.

Like you were the one inconveniencing him. Like you had interrupted something you had no right to see.

He didn’t even stop.

“Babe—” he started, like that pathetic word could somehow undo what you just witnessed.

The key in your hand felt heavy, cold metal digging into your palm. You didn’t even realize you had dropped it until you heard the sharp clink as it hit the floor.

And now, here you were.

The same clink surrounding you, the sound of shot glasses being slammed onto tabletops, beer bottles knocking against one another, the steady hum of conversation and laughter filling the crowded house.

Except now, Matt was beside you.

Steady and completely solid.

His arm resting along the back of the couch, close enough to be comforting but not suffocating, the way he always was—never pushing, never pressing, just there.

“You don’t have to talk about it,” he murmura, his voice low, easy, like he already knew how raw it felt, how fresh the wound still was on your skin.

You exhale, a laugh that doesn't quite reach your eyes, swirling the drink in your hand. “Not much to talk about, really.”

The amber liquid sloshes against the sides of the glass, catching the dim party lights in lazy, golden swirls. The ice had mostly melted by now, diluting the burn, but whenever you tipped the glass slightly, a lone ice cube knocked against the rim with a soft another soft clink, shifting like something restless, something waiting.

You sigh, watching the way the alcohol coats the glass before sliding back down, a slow, lazy roll, as if even it couldn’t be bothered to hold itself together.

Kind of like you.

Matt hums, tilting his head, studying you like he doesn't quite believe you. “Dunno. Catching your boyfriend mid-thrust in someone else? Feels like the kind of thing that deserves a little shit-talking at the very least.”

That startled a real laugh out of you, causing you to grin as Matt smiles, hitting your knee with his. “There she is.”

You shake your head, still smiling as you swirl your drink, watching the ice spin like it had nowhere else to be. “I mean, what’s there to even say? Dude’s a walking disappointment. Would’ve been more surprising if he wasn’t trash.”

Matt lets out a sharp breath, shaking his head. “Nah, see, that’s actually so insane. ‘Cause you’re telling me—not only did he cheat, which is already, like, rock-bottom behavior, but on top of that, he was ass?”

“Ass is generous,” you deadpan, sipping your drink.

Matt chuckles, running a hand down his face like he's physically pained. “That’s, like, secondhand embarrassment. I don’t even know the guy, and I’m embarrassed for him.”

You huff out a laugh. “Yeah, well, try being the dumbass who dated him.”

Matt's lips purse, his finger raising to point at you. “Okay, that’s not on you. That’s on him for being a certified loser. Like, let’s break it down—dude had a great girlfriend, and what does he do? Fumbles harder than anyone has ever fumbled in the history of fumbling.”

You raise a brow. “Bit dramatic.”

Matt ignores you, shifting to lean forward, elbows on his knees as he shakes his head. “And then, on top of that, he wasn’t even good at anything other than manipulating you. Like, make it make sense!”

You roll your eyes, tipping your glass toward Matt in a salute. “Yeah, well, guess I should be grateful. At least now I know I was never the problem.”

Matt scoffs, shaking his head like he still can't believe it. “Nah, but actually, that’s insane. Like, imagine having you and thinking, 'Yeah, let me go blow up my entire relationship for some mediocre ass backshots.'" He knocks back a sip of his drink, then points at you. “That’s not even a mistake. That’s a lifestyle choice.”

You tilt your head, your fingers flattening your dress as you continue. “To be fair, I should’ve known when he unironically said ‘Let me cook’ before sending a text.”

Matt’s jaw drops. “You’re lying.”

“Wish I was.”

Before you could respond, the couch dips beside you, and Chris plops down, a drink in hand, his eyes flicking between the two of you. “We shit-talking him yet?”

Chris hummed, taking a slow sip of his drink like he had all the time in the world. He was dressed like he always was—effortlessly casual but somehow put-together.

A zip-up hoodie, probably Matt’s, hung loose over his shoulders, the sleeves pushed up just enough to show the silver rings on his fingers as he lazily swirled his drink. His hair was slightly tousled underneath his hat, like he’d just run a hand through it, and his chain caught the dim party lights when he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

Matt tilted his head. “What do you mean yet? You think we weren’t already?”

Matt pointed at you without looking away. “She just told me dude used to say ‘Let me cook’ before texting. Like, sincerely.”

Chris made a face, taking a slow sip of his drink. “Yeah, no, that tracks. I’ve been saying he was a dick for months. But ohhh no, I’m the asshole for pointing it out.”

You groan, letting your head drop back against the couch. “Here we go.”

Chris ignores you, turning to Matt. “Tell me why—” He gestures, “—this dude had a finsta dedicated to his sneaker collection but couldn’t text back?”

Matt choked on his drink, coughing as he smacks a fist against his chest. “Nah, shut up.”

Chris just nodded, his lips twitching like he was holding back a grin. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, fingers idly tracing the rim of his glass.

“I swear. Had a whole ass archive of, like, two pairs of beat-up Jordans, but suddenly, when it came to responding to her, it was radio silence.”

Matt chuckles, looking at you like he's genuinely disappointed. “Damn. You really dated a grown man with a sneaker finsta?”

You sigh dramatically. “Okay, when you say it like that—”

Chris shook his head. “Nah, there’s no way to say it that doesn’t make it embarrassing.”

Matt huffs out a laugh, lifting his drink to his lips, as if to cheer. “Well, here’s to making better choices.”

Chris clinked his glass against Matt’s, then yours. “To never settling for sneaker finsta men ever again.”

You clinked back, shaking your head. “And to finally admitting he wasn’t even good in bed.”

Chris nearly spit out his drink, and Matt groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “God, I knew it.”

Chris set his drink down with way too much enthusiasm, leaning forward like this was the most important conversation of the night. “Wait, wait—hold on. You’re telling me—” He pointed at you. “This man cheated and he never even made you come?”

Matt let out a loud groan, tipping his head back against the couch. “Jesus Christ.”

You shrugged, sipping your drink. “Not once.”

Chris smacked Matt’s arm. “Dude. That should be a crime.”

Matt held up a hand, like he needed a second to process. “Nah, that’s actually so crazy. Like, imagine risking it all, blowing up your relationship, and for what? Mediocre, selfish-ass sex?”

He looked at you with genuine pity. “I’m actually so sorry.”

Chris shook his head, taking a slow sip of his drink as he glanced around the room. The party was still in full swing—bodies moving in lazy, drunken sways to the bass-heavy music, warm, low lighting flickering over flushed faces. Someone’s laughter rang out over the sound of clinking glasses, and the faint scent of something sweet and smoky lingered in the air.

He exhaled, looking back at you with something almost like disappointment. “Nah, but that’s actually insane. You went through all that and didn’t even get a decent orgasm out of it?”

Matt let out a low whistle, shaking his head. “Tragic.”

You rolled your eyes, fighting back a smirk. “Okay, we don’t need to make it a whole thing.”

Chris raised a brow. “Oh, it’s already a 'thing' ma."

Matt leaned in slightly, resting an arm over the back of the couch, his knee knocking into yours. “Swear to God, if we had known, we would’ve saved you sooner.”

You scoffed, turning toward him with an amused look. “Oh? And you think you could do better?”

Chris scoffed, tipping his drink back before setting it down with a soft clink. “Think? Nah, ma, I know I could.”

Matt huffed out a laugh, shaking his head as he shifted closer, his arm still draped lazily over the back of the couch. “That’s crazy ‘cause I was about to say the same thing.”

You raised a brow, looking between them, amused. “Right. Because this is a totally normal conversation to be having in the middle of a party.”

Chris leaned back slightly, resting an arm on the couch. “What? You scared?”

You rolled your eyes. “Of you two? Please.”

You took another sip of your drink. “I just think it’s funny how you’re both talking all this game like we’re not literally surrounded by people.”

Matt glanced around at the party—at the dim, colored lights flickering over the dancing bodies, at the bass-heavy music thrumming through the floor. He shrugged, gaze flicking back to you. “And? They’re minding their business.”

Chris nodded. “Exactly. Ain’t nobody worried about us.”

You sighed, shaking your head. “Yeah, ‘cause they’d never expect you two to be saying some wild shit like this.”

Matt grinned, tapping his fingers against the back of the couch. “That’s the best part.”

Chris smirked, shifting just a little closer, voice dropping lower. “So? What’s stopping you?”

Your breath caught for half a second before you scoff, trying to ignore the way heat curls in your stomach at his words. “You guys are ridiculous.”

Matt leaned in slightly, the scent of his cologne mixing with the faint burn of whiskey. “That’s not a no.”

Chris tilts his head, eyes flicking over your face, searching, challenging. “Not even close.”

You roll your eyes at them, "Matt, be serious."

Matt grinned, cocky and easy. “I am serious. Dead serious, actually.” Turning to you, his gaze flicking over your face, then down to where your fingers curled around your glass. “Let’s be real, if you’re trying to actually have a good time, you’d pick me.”

Chris let out a sharp breath, like he couldn’t believe the audacity. “That’s rich, bro.” He turned to you, tapping a finger against his knee. “Look, if you want someone who actually knows what they’re doing—who can guarantee you won’t be left disappointed—” he gestured to himself with a lazy smirk, “I’m right here.”

He rolls his eyes, shifting to face you more fully, eyes glinting with amusement. “Oh, so now you’re a professional?”

Chris leaned in slightly, dropping his voice just enough that it sent a small shiver up your spine. “Nah. I just know what I’m doing.”

Matt didn’t miss the way you shifted slightly, the way your breath hitched just barely, instead he grinned. "Alright Bet."

You narrowed your eyes, looking between them. “Bet?”

Matt leaned in, a slow, knowing smirk spreading across his face. “Yeah. Bet.”

Chris huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “Man, she doesn’t believe us.” He tapped his fingers against his glass, then flicked his gaze to Matt. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”

Matt didn’t hesitate. “Oh, absolutely.”

Before you could ask what that meant, Chris was already standing, stretching like he had all the time in the world. “C’mon.”

You raised an eyebrow. “C’mon where?”

Matt stood too, shooting you a look like the answer was obvious. “Somewhere we can actually prove a point.”

The party noise swelled around you—music pulsing, voices blending into an indistinct hum. Someone bumped into the couch behind you, laughing too loudly, and Chris tilted his head toward the hall. “Unless you wanna do this right here, in front of everyone?”

You exhaled sharply, ignoring the way your pulse picked up. “You’re both ridiculous.”

Chris grinned. “And yet, you’re still sitting here.”

Matt held out a hand, palm up, his fingers relaxed but expectant. He was still lounging on the edge of the couch, but there was a sharpness in his gaze now.

His shirt—black, slightly rumpled from the way he’d been sitting—stretched across his shoulders as he leaned forward just a little, like he was inviting you in without saying a word. The dim light softened the angles of his face, but his smirk was anything but gentle.

The silver chain around his neck caught the glow of the bedside lamp as he tilted his head, studying you like he already knew your answer. His jeans—worn just right, hanging low on his hips—shifted as he tapped his fingers against his knee, waiting.

“What’s it gonna be?”

Chris, still leaning back against the arm of the couch, ran a slow hand over his jaw, watching you like he had all the time in the world. His drink, long forgotten, sat on the coffee table, condensation beading against the glass.

Matt, on the other hand, was all expectation, fingers still tapping against his knee, his smirk deepening as the silence stretched. “C’mon, sweetheart,” he murmured, tilting his head. “Don’t keep us waiting.”

Chris chuckled, low and warm, dragging a hand down your thigh in a way that made your breath hitch. “You can say no, ma,” he said, voice slow, teasing. “But we both know you don’t want to.”

You swallowed, your breath catching slightly as their words settled over you, thick and heavy.

The party noise still thrummed in the background, but it felt distant now—muted by the way Matt was watching you, by the slow, sudden, lazy drag of Chris’s fingers against your thigh.

Your skin burned where he touched, and Matt, sharp-eyed and smirking, definitely noticed.

Chris tilted his head toward the hallway again, voice smooth as ever. “Last chance, sweetheart.”

Matt’s fingers flexed, still waiting, still expectant.

Your pulse pounded in your ears.

You exhaled, slow, steady—then reached for Matt’s hand.

His smirk widened as his fingers curled around yours, firm, warm, grounding. Chris let out a low hum, clearly pleased, as he pushed off the couch, his touch lingering just a second longer than necessary before he pulled away.

Without another word, Matt gave your hand a tug, guiding you up and off the couch.

Matt didn’t stop holding your hand as he led you down the hall, his grip firm but unhurried, his head tilting slightly as he scanned the doors. The thud of bass from the party faded with each step, the distant hum of conversation muffled behind closed rooms—most of them occupied, judging by the occasional bursts of laughter or the low murmur of voices.

Chris trailed just behind, close enough that the warmth of him ghosted over your shoulder. “Better hope he finds one quick,” he murmured, voice laced with amusement. “Unless you wanna put on a show.”

You shot him a look, but before you could reply, Matt’s hand tightened around yours. He stopped in front of a door, testing the handle. It gave easily, swinging open to reveal a dimly lit bedroom.

Without hesitation, Matt pulled you inside, and before you could fully register the shift, Chris followed, kicking the door shut behind him.

The room was small, barely furnished beyond the essentials—a bed pushed against the far wall, a desk cluttered with textbooks and empty Red Bull cans, a single lamp casting a warm, amber glow. The air smelled faintly of cologne and something sweet, like the lingering scent of someone’s perfume. A pile of clothes sat forgotten in the corner, a half-open closet revealing more chaos within. It wasn’t romantic, wasn’t planned, but none of that mattered.

Because the second the door clicked shut, Matt was on you.

He didn’t hesitate, didn’t give you a second to think before his hands found your face, tilting your head up as his lips crashed onto yours. His kiss was urgent, almost desperate, like he’d been waiting for this all night. Maybe even longer, maybe for years.

His fingers slid into your hair, tugging just enough to make you gasp, just enough for him to deepen the kiss, his tongue brushing against yours in a way that made your knees weaken.

Chris chuckled from somewhere behind you. “Guess that answers that,” he murmured.

But Matt didn’t break away. If anything, he pulled you closer, pressing his body against yours, heat radiating from him like a furnace. His grip was firm, possessive, like he wanted to make sure you didn’t slip away. Like he needed you right here, right now.

Your back hit the edge of the bed, and for a split second, everything stilled—just long enough for Matt to look at you, his dark eyes searching yours, his breath hot against your lips. Then, without a word, he kissed you again, deeper this time, fingers trailing down your sides as if mapping out every inch of you.

Chris, still behind you, moved in closer, his presence like a slow-burning fire licking at the edges of your awareness. His fingers ghosted over your arm, featherlight, teasing. “Think you can handle both of us?” His voice was low, smooth, taunting.

Matt pulled back just enough to smirk, his thumb brushing your lower lip. “She can,” he murmured, like he already knew the answer. Like he had no doubt in his mind.

Your heartbeat thundered in your chest as Matt’s lips found your jaw, trailing kisses down the column of your throat, his hands never stopping their slow exploration of your body. Chris, patient but undoubtedly enjoying the show, tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering just long enough to send a shiver down your spine.

“Tell us what you want,” Chris said, his tone softer now, coaxing.

Matt’s mouth found that spot just below your ear, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there, making your breath hitch. “Or,” he added, voice dripping with amusement, “we could just keep teasing you until you beg for it.”

Chris let out a slow breath, his fingers flexing at his sides like he was holding himself back. His usual smooth confidence wavered, a flicker of something more restless flashing in his eyes.

Matt smirked against your skin, clearly enjoying the shift. “Getting impatient?” he teased, dragging his lips down the side of your neck just to prove a point.

Chris scoffed, but there was something else in the sound—something tight, barely restrained. “I already know you’re just warming her up for me.”

Matt huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Oh, that’s cute,” he muttered. “You really think you’re gonna do better?”

Chris crossed his arms, confidence dripping from every inch of him.

“I don’t think, man. I know.” His eyes flicked to you, heat simmering just beneath the surface. “You’re just taking your time because you know I’ll have her coming undone faster than you ever could.”

Matt’s jaw ticked, just for a second, before his lips twisted into something dangerous. “Oh, that’s real funny. You talk a big game, but we both know you like to rush. I take my time. I make sure she feels every second of it.”

Chris scoffed. “Yeah? That’s just a nice way of saying you drag it out because you need the extra time to make up for what you’re lacking.”

Matt’s fingers ghosted over the straps of your dress, tracing a slow path down your shoulders before slipping beneath the fabric. He didn’t rush—no, that wasn’t his style. He took his time, peeling the straps down inch by inch, his fingertips skimming your skin like a promise.

“You see,” he murmured, voice thick with amusement as he let the dress dip lower, exposing more of you to the cool air, “you think this is about speed? Nah, man. This is about control. And we both know you don't have any."

Chris arched a brow, smirking. “That so?” He turned his gaze back to you, slow and deliberate. “Guess we’ll just have to see who really knows how to take their time with her.”

"You're on," Matt said, his voice low and dangerous. He leaned in closer, his breath tickling your ear. "Whoever's cock she comes on, loses."

Chris grinned, clearly enjoying the game.

"Fine by me. But remember, I'm not the one who needs to prove myself here."

Within an instant your dress was off of you, the beautiful fabric crumpled beneath you on the floor as you sat against the edge of the bed.

Matt kissed you harder, his lips hungry as his fingers snaked down your bare skin, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. His touch was deliberate, teasing, as he traced the curve of your waist, pulling you closer and closer to him.

"You drive me crazy," he murmured against your lips, his breath hot and uneven. His hands gripped your thighs, parting them just enough to fit between as he pressed his body flush against yours.

Chris' voice cuts through the tension, a chuckle rumbling from in front of you, his voice smooth and absolutely fucking dripping with amusement.

"What do you say, ma—we could take turns eating you out, all while you lean back so pretty like this?" Chris chuckles, his hands brushing against one another, "Or I can put you on your hands and knees, pound into that soakin' pussy from behind?"

He smiles from in front of you, licking his lips as he continues, "Or—one of us could sit, make you ride one of us while the other watches, tell you just how fuckin' beautiful you are.."

Matt let out a low laugh, his hands never leaving your body, his fingers squeezed, teasing, making sure you felt every bit of his touch.

"Damn, Chris, you always gotta talk so much?" he mused, dragging his lips along your jaw before pulling back just enough to catch your gaze, his eyes gleaming with something wicked. "She’s already breathin’ all heavy for me."

His hands slid higher, one tracing up your spine while the other toyed with the strap of your bra. With a quick flick, the fabric loosened, sliding down your arms as he smirked.

"Let’s get this outta the way, huh?" he teased, tugging it off completely before letting his fingers trace against your tits. His touch was electric, sending shivers down your spine as he played with your nipples, rolling them between his thumbs and forefingers.

Chris let out a low whistle, shaking his head with an amused smirk as he leaned back, arms crossing over his chest. "Damn, Matt, you’re already gettin’ hands-on? Pretty sure that’s a rule break."

Matt just chuckled, completely unbothered as he rolled your nipple between his fingers, watching the way you shivered under his touch. "Rules?" he mused, tilting his head slightly before glancing at Chris.

Chris arched a brow, tapping his fingers against his arm. "You know damn well we said we’d take turns—equal play, fair game." His tongue darted out to wet his lips as he eyed you. "But look at you, already claimin’ what ain’t just yours."

Matt smirked, he leaned back just a little, tilting his head at Chris, his hands moving to pinch gently at both of your nipples.

"Alright, then. Since you're so worried about rules, why don’t you remind me—what exactly are they?"

Chris chuckled, shaking his head as he ran a hand through his hair, eyes flicking between you and Matt. "Simple. We take turns. Three minutes each."

Matt arched a brow, lips twitching. "Three minutes, huh?"

Chris nodded, his smirk growing. "And you gotta move the whole time. No slacking, no just sittin’ there lookin’ pretty—you put in work every second."

Matt tilted his head, considering, then let his smirk deepen. “And what happens if one of us stops?"

“Then they lose.”

Chris took a slow step forward, the space between you shrinking in an instant, sitting beside you on the bed. "m' let's just warm this beautiful fuckin' body up first though—"His fingers brushed along your jaw before cupping your face fully, his touch warm and firm.

He held your gaze for a moment, his thumb stroking over your cheek before he leaned in, his lips barely brushing against yours as he leaned in, his tongue parting your lips just enough to taste you.

As Chris’ lips found yours, his tongue snaking against your own, Matt moved in his own way, his lips ghosting over the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, his breath warm, and tantalizing. He took his time, barely touching, leaving small kisses against you.

With a firm grip, Matt hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties almost instantly. But he didn’t rush—he wanted you to feel every inch of the fabric dragging over your skin.

As he slid them down, his hands pressed against your thighs, holding you still, as his gaze flicked up to meet yours, dark with intent. “You’re awful quiet,” he murmured, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “Nervous?”

Chris chuckled from beside you, his fingers brushing against your jaw, tilting your face back toward him. “Nah,” he mused, his voice low, teasing. “She’s just feeling it.”

Matt hummed in agreement, his grip tightening just slightly as he slid the fabric lower, past your hips, past your thighs, his eyes never leaving yours. “Yeah?” His voice was soft, almost smug. “Then I better keep going.. huh?”

He slid your panties down your legs with agonizing slowness before tossing them aside, his gaze drinking in every inch of you. Chris let out a low chuckle, his eyes looming over your body, focused on the dripping mess between your legs, your folds coated in your sticky juices.

Matt leaned in, his lips against your clit as he pressed a soft kiss to it, his breath warm as he murmured, “Damn… this perfect fuckin' puffy pussy..”

Almost instantly, Chris moved behind you, his hands gripping your hips firmly as he pressed his chest against your back. His lips finding your neck, sucking and nipping at the sensitive skin as his arms curled around you, his fingertips resting on your nipples.

You could feel them harden under his touch, and a shiver ran down your spine as beneath you, Matt continued to tease your clit, his tongue beginning to gently flick against it, his lips sucking around it every so often.

You could hear the soft noise of his tongue flicking against your drenched pussy and his fingers holding your thighs apart all while Chris worked on your tits, his hands pinching them, cupping them in his hands as his thumbs moved to circle against your nipples.

Matt smiles against your pussy, his eyes on you as his lips detach from your clit, one of his hands moving to rub soft circles against your clit as he smiles up at you. "Bet you’ve been waiting for this… so needy and ready for us—Fuck, you're so wet for us, aren't you sweetheart?"

He leans back slightly, his gaze never leaving yours as he spits into his hand, the saliva glistening in the dim light. Your legs twitch as he moves, causing him to sigh, "Be a good girl f'me, keep those pretty legs open while I spit on your sloppy pussy."

You watch as he rubs his hands together before bringing them back to your pussy, his fingers spreading you open as he presses his spit-slicked hand against your clit.

The coolness of his saliva against your sensitive skin sends shivers down your spine, and you can feel your muscles tensing in anticipation as your moans echo throughout the room, causing Chris to chuckle from behind you, "Just like that… taking everything we give you, aren’t you?"

You moan, feeling Matt's assault on your pussy, his tongue mercilessly going back to flicking against your clit and circling around your folds, coating them in his saliva.

"That's it, baby," Chris whispers in your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your neck. He chuckles, his lips gliding down your neck as he squeezes your tits with one of his ,“You’re shaking, baby—so desperate for us, huh?”

He chuckles, moving closer behind you, planting soft kisses along your neck and shoulder as his other hand slips two fingers into your mouth, encouraging you to suck on them.

As soon as you coat his long fingers with your spit, his hand dives down to rest on your lower thigh, the wetness from your saliva dripping against your skin.

"Matt—stop, one sec," he rasps, his lips leaving your shoulder as he groans.

Matt's eyes widen as he looks up at you, his tongue detaching from your clit as he backs up, clearly confused.

Meanwhile, Chris chuckles, sliding his two fingers into your pussy, thrusting it and out of you, his palm curling out to the side, allowing your clit no stimulation. "That's it, baby—take it all in—look at you, baby… taking my fingers so well. You were made for this, weren’t you?"

Matt smiles looking down at your absolutely drenched cunt, "Damn, just look at this mess… all for us? Filthy dirty girl.. You must’ve been starving for it."

As he speaks, he leans in and places his tongue back on your clit, starting to lap up the juices that have been flowing from your soaked pussy. The sensation is intense, sending shivers down your spine as you feel both Chris and Matt working your pussy, at the same time.

You fall back in ecstasy against Chris' chest, his fingers working inside of you as you moan for them both. Matt chuckles, his free hand finding its way to your other breast, massaging it gently just as Chris is, as he teases your clit with his tongue.

"You like it, don't you, both of us.. here, pleasuring this needy pussy?" he asks, his voice thick with desire.

"God, yes," you whimper, arching your back towards him. "Don't stop." Chris smirks at your words, his fingers moving faster inside you, hitting that perfect spot over and over again.

Matt watches intently as Chris works your pussy, his eyes drawn to the metal rings on Chris's fingers. He can't help but feel a twinge of jealousy, wishing he got to feel your pussy against him instead, but he pushes it aside, focusing on pleasuring you instead.

"You like seeing those rings, don't you?" Matt asks, his voice rough with desire against your clit as he leans in closer.

Chris chuckles, his fingers moving faster and harder, pressing right against your g-spot as Matt works your clit, your body going fucking dumb with all of the pleasure.

"You're close, aren't you?" Chris asks, his fingers moving in a circular motion, feeling your walls tighten around them. "Tell me how close you are," he demands, his voice low and commanding.

"I'm close," you whimper, your body shuddering as Matt's tongue flicks against your clit. "So close," you moan, your hips bucking against Chris's hand and Matt's face as they both try to hold you down.

Chris smirks, his fingers pressing harder against your g-spot as he feels you getting closer. "Tell me when you're going to cum," he growls, his voice low and threatening.

Matt's tongue flicks faster against your clit, his spit pooling against your folds as he his lips suck against your clit sending jolts of pleasure through your body.

You can feel the orgasm building inside of you, but before you can even cry out, Chris' fingers press harder against your g-spot, sending waves of pleasure through your body. "Don't you dare cum yet."

You're so close, you can feel it throughout your entire body, your legs trembling, your fingers digging into the sheets as you beg for release.

"Please, please let me cum," you moan, your voice trembling with need. But Chris and Matt are relentless, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

"Tell me when you're going to cum," Chris demands again, his fingers working inside of you even faster.

"I can't...I can't hold it any longer," you whimper, your body shaking with pleasure.

"Yes, you can," Chris rasps, his fingers pressing harder against your g-spot. "Don't you dare cum yet," he growls, "c'mon be a good slutty girl and hold it for us, ma—c'mon hold that fuckin' cum in for us."

You bite your lip, trying your best to stifle the moans that want to escape your lips. Tears well in your eyes as Chris's fingers rub against your clit, sending jolts of pleasure through your body.

"Fuck, you're so close, aren't you?" he chuckles darkly, adding another finger inside you. You nod frantically, unable to form words. "Good girl," he praises, "I knew you could do it." He leans in, capturing your lips in a rough kiss, his tongue invading your mouth as his fingers continue to work their magic. You moan into the kiss, tears stinging your vision as your body trembles with the effort of holding back your orgasm.

Suddenly, they stop all movement, Chris' fingers sliding out and Matt's lips leaving your clit; backing away to look up at you, his thumb rubbing soft circles over your shaking thigh.

You gasp for air, your body craving more of their touch, your body shaking, so close even now, you could cum without them even touching you.

Chris smirks down at you, his fingers still rubbing against your tits, his other hand rubbing against your other thigh, matching Matt's circling pace, his eyes dark with lust.

"I think you're all warmed up now—hmm ma?"

thank you for reading ! ♡

been dealing w kind of a lot but i lovee you all!! thank u for 600! sorry for the edge 😔 lots of dick next part tho!

𖧧 𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒆 𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

taglist - @chriss-slutt @55sturn @chrysiie @il0vey0um0st @trustinsturniolos @v4lsturn @shitttttypoet @mattsplaything @emely9274 @pip4444chris @whore4mattsturniolo @sweetshuga @courta13 @stvrnloghost @dvinesturn @zaystrns @aaliyahsturniolo @chris-hallelujah @ellssturn

saving for laterrrrrrrrr

in my sky fortress (my bed) blowing the dust off of an old book of wisdom (tumblr) to find the answers to all I seek (fluff-smut fan fiction abt matt)

i need them both, raw, at the same time, no breaks, til the bed breaks, til my BACK breaks, til i break, until im screaming, until my vocal chords collapse, until my legs and spine go numb!! 😛

matt in the front, chris in the back, preferably!

PLAY DATE | matt sturniolo

— warnings: smut, dom!matt, sub!reader, titty sucking, making out, cursing, matt the munch!!, jerking off, edging, unprotected p in v, creampie... — english isn't my first language.

STOPPPP I LOVE CAT AND MOUSE TROPESSSS

a summer like never before.

the time has finally come. your annual summer trip down to cape cod with your mother, and best friend. this has been a trip you 3 have been taking for who knows how long.

AW HELL YEAH IVE BENN NEEDING TS

i kinda wanna write matt pissing himself again you guys have turned me into a monster

bc he’s just a lil subby babyyyy

hell yeahh omfg