#sturnslutz | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sturnslutz · 1 day ago

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reuniting.

christopher sturniolo. the man you hated. no, rather loved. you hated hearing his name, though. not because you didn't like him, but the opposite. you loved him.

he was perfect. your school's favorite triplet. the kid who had 100k on instagram in his senior year, solely based on his looks. the boy who was oh, so sweet to you. your best friend. how could you ever hate him?

you hated him because he left. he just got up and left out of nowhere, ghosting everyone who knew his name, and brought his brothers with him. the sturniolos' was a name that almost seemed ancient, one that brought the taste of ash to your tongue.

at the ripe age of 17, the sturniolo last name was only a name you heard in your dreams. people eventually stopped talking about them, about chris. the girls you knew who wanted to be his valentine, got boyfriends. husbands, even. some who looked like chris in some ways. some who didn't look like chris, but rather acted like him.

he couldn't leave your head though, even 6 years later. you're supposed to move on. you were supposed to forget about the boy who was your best friend for all of middle and high school. that's not how it works though, there has to be remorse. there has to be some guilt in this, right?

the tension, the not so subtle flirting, the teasing. how could either of you just forget all of it? despite being in a friendgroup, chris treated you like you were the only one he actually cared about. it's because you were. he only really cared for you.

you still had photos and videos of him in your camera. they were taking up storage. not like you cared. you could always just buy a new one. you couldn't buy memories, though. you didn't even know what chris looked like now. you had always teased him for his "frat bro hair." he didn't mind though, he never did.

you're 22 now. you knew he was 22 also, about to turn 23. you could never forget his birthday. when he left, your friends told you how he had blocked everyone. you assumed he blocked you also, and didn't want to bear the pain of actually seeing his name not pop up. so you didn't. you never checked if he had actually left you.

here you are now. august 1st, his 23rd birthday, finally researching his name on instagram. just to actually get the closure you needed. on his birthday, too. @/christophersturniolo. the same username he's used for god knows how long. he popped up. his profile, his name, everything. right in front of you.

what you didn't expect when scrolling on his page was that he was actually posting. he hadn't blocked you. you could actually see him now. he had lived in LA now, with over 2 million followers. his posts were rather, vulnerable. even for chris. he was posting shirtless pics, something he had never done before.

was this content? you didn't understand the porn industry well, but you had a good knowing of it. they usually build their profiles, posting rather inappropriate pictures on social media. you had never actually been on a porn site. you had never even done anything like that. and only chris knew you were that pure, and he adored it.

he had a link in his bio. your fingers clicked on it faster than your mind even processed it. your phone had brought you to a website you had never even thought of going on. it was his profile.

he was a pornstar. scrolling was easy, and you couldn't help the heat rising to your face at the sight of chris. he had a video posted that only a subscription could access. once again, your fingers moved faster than your mind did, not even processing that you were actually buying a subscription to see your old best friend do something you didn't even know was possible.

you had unlocked so much. you saw videos of him rubbing his hard cock in his sweatpants, before teasing himself and slipping his fingers in and out of his waistband, his breaths being heard through the phone.

there were pictures of his v line, pictures of his fucked-out face with the caption "just got done. wanna see?" he would never say that. you liked every. single. picture and video you saw.

what you didn't know was that they could actually see who was subscribing to their profile, you accidentally signing up with your email that had your full name on it. chris knew you were viewing his porn. he knew you were thinking of him.

he had actually been viewing your instagram profile regularly. he memorized your username, the one you never changed just like he hadn't. he saw old friends of his in your instagram dumps, how you still had the same beautiful smile. he had noticed you had never posted a boy, were you still the same, innocent sweetie that he was obsessed with?

he didn't want to leave you. he wanted to bring you with him along his adventures. he wasn't ashamed of his porn career, but he wasn't extremely fond of it. he didn't know what you would think the day you actually searched him up and realized he didn't break himself from you.

he didn't know if you would regret the friendship you two had, because of the career choice he had went down. what he didn't expect was seeing your name pop up dozens of times all from the same website.

you actually liked seeing him so naked. so dominant. so different from his 17 year old self. he couldn't help himself from following you on instagram almost immediately after seeing your notifications and sending you a text.

@/christophersturniolo 5:46pm.

"hey, sweetie. missed you kid. saw u liked my stuff, a lot of them actually. text me back when you see this, i wanna see u again. hope everything's good."

your heart dropped at the sight of the notification. you didn't know he was actually able to see who liked his stuff. your breath got caught in your throat, he knew you had seen his dick. he knew everything.

you followed him back, texting him back.

@/sweeties.world 5:58pm.

"this is rlly embarrassing fuck i didnt know u could actually see me liking ur stuff. happy birthday btw. i miss you a lot, and i got caught up looking, sorry if this is rlly awkward lol."

he responded almost immediately.

@/christophersturniolo 5:59pm.

"thank you sweetie, and it's not awkward at all, actually. im not ashamed of what i do, and im glad it was you rather than anyone else from hs seeing it. you still live in boston? me and my brothers are coming down soon, and i would love to see you, if that's cool."

@/sweeties.world 6:01pm.

"of course <3 and yeah, i do. of course it's cool, i would love to see you too. you're gonna have to explain why u left me and everyone else out of nowhere btw u are not escaping that situation"

@/christophersturniolo 6:04pm.

"same old sweetie, huh? never letting down something and making me talk about my feelings. love that about you. i need u to know i didn't leave you because of anything you did, i was caught up in my own head and did some things i shouldn't have. ill tell u everything when we hangout. im glad u looked at my content though so i wouldnt have had to bring it up randomly over coffee."

that night kept on with texts catching up. you guys got each others' numbers again, and even facetimed. he looked so much better than before and you both talked like no time had passed. he was still the same old, chris sturniolo. the one who's dick you saw, the one who you saw fucking some girl, the one with 2 million followers.

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sturnslutz · 16 days ago

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PLS PLS PLS PLS PLS GO READ TS IS AMAZING

unknown

Y/N has always played it safe—balancing her job as a pediatric nurse, and her careful lifestyle. But one night out with her friend, Jordan, changes everything. When she meets Matt and Chris—two dangerous, enigmatic brothers—she’s drawn into a world she doesn’t belong in. But the more she resists, the harder they pulls her in.

chapter 2

Jordan’s voice cuts through the haze of tension. “Oh, hell no.”

I barely have time to register her presence before she grabs my wrist and yanks me off the couch. Her grip is firm, protective, and when I look up at her face, I can see the fire burning in her eyes.

Chris raises his hands in mock surrender, a smirk playing on his lips. “Relax, Jord. We were just talking.”

“No,” she snaps, her tone sharp. “I told you both—she’s off-limits.”

Matt stands slowly, his expression unreadable, but his gaze never leaves mine. There’s something almost amused in his eyes, like he’s enjoying the fact that Jordan is practically dragging me away from him.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he murmurs, just loud enough for me to hear. “We were just getting started.”

“Not happening,” Jordan says before I can even think of a response. She tightens her grip on my wrist, steering me away from them without looking back.

As we walk away, I feel a subtle brush against the back pocket of my jeans. It’s quick, barely noticeable, but when I glance over my shoulder, Matt’s eyes meet mine with a knowing glint.

Chris sighs dramatically. “You ruin all our fun, Jord.”

“Yeah, well, you two don’t get to have fun with her,” she retorts, pulling me toward the crowd.

I don’t protest, but as we weave through the bodies, my fingers discreetly reach into my back pocket. My stomach flips when I feel the small slip of paper between my fingertips.

The party rages on for another hour, but my mind is elsewhere. Even as Jordan keeps me close, introducing me to a few more people and handing me another drink, I can feel Matt’s eyes on me from across the room. Every time I glance in his direction, he’s already looking, his smirk never fading. Chris, on the other hand, is more relaxed, laughing with a group of people but still sending the occasional wink my way.

Jordan, true to form, doesn’t let me slip back in their direction. And honestly, I don’t try. Something about Matt and Chris still lingers in my mind, but I know pushing my luck with Jordan right now isn’t worth it.

By the time she decides it’s time to go, I don’t argue. I’m tired, my head buzzing slightly from the drinks, and I know there’s no way I’m leaving this party with anything but a lecture. Jordan grips my wrist again—not as tightly as before, but still firm enough to let me know she means business—as we make our way outside.

The ride back to my apartment is quiet at first, the streetlights casting shadows against the dashboard as we cruise through the near-empty streets. Then, Jordan sighs, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter.

“I meant what I said, Y/N,” she says, her voice softer now but just as serious. “Stay away from Matt and Chris.”

I don’t answer right away, watching as the city blurs past us. “Why do you care so much?” I finally ask.

Jordan huffs. “Because I know them. I know what they’re capable of, and I know you. You don’t belong around people like them.”

I chew on the inside of my cheek, the weight of her words settling over me. Maybe she’s right. Maybe Matt and Chris are the kind of guys I should be running from, not flirting with on a couch in the middle of a party.

But that doesn’t stop the curiosity itching at the back of my mind.

Jordan pulls up to my apartment, throwing the car in park. “Promise me, Y/N.”

I unbuckle my seatbelt, hesitating. “I hear you, Jord.” It’s not exactly a promise, but it’s enough to make her sigh in frustration before she waves me off.

I step out, the night air cooler than before, and make my way upstairs. My apartment is quiet when I enter, the stillness wrapping around me like a blanket. I toe off my shoes, let out a slow breath, and finally, reach into my back pocket.

The small slip of paper feels heavier now as I unfold it, my heart picking up speed as I read the numbers scrawled across it. Matt. Chris.

Before I can think twice, I pull out my phone, create a group chat, and type out a message.

Y/N: So, do you two always slip your numbers into girls’ pockets, or am I just special?

Matt and Chris’s numbers stare back at me as I hit send, my heart pounding a little harder than I’d like to admit. I don’t know what I’m expecting—maybe for them to ignore it, maybe for one of them to be asleep already. But as soon as the message delivers, the little typing bubbles appear.

I exhale, shaking my head as I lock my phone and toss it onto my bed. I need to shake this off. It’s just a text. Just two guys who I probably shouldn’t be talking to, yet here I am, starting a conversation at nearly 2 AM.

Shoving the thought aside, I grab a fresh towel and head into the bathroom. The shower is warm, the steady stream of water melting away the remnants of the night—the music, the drinks, the way Matt’s touch lingered on my waist.

Jordan’s voice echoes in my head. Stay away from them.

I close my eyes, letting the water run over my face, trying to ignore the fact that I already failed at that.

Once I’m done, I wrap myself in a towel and make my way back to my bedroom, slipping into a pair of soft shorts and an oversized t-shirt. My hair is still damp as I climb into bed, pulling the covers up to my chin.

I grab my phone from the nightstand, the screen lighting up with two unread messages.

Matt: Depends. Are you looking for special treatment, sweetheart?

Chris: I think she is

I chew my lip, staring at the screen. My fingers hover over the keyboard, debating whether or not to reply. But I know if I do, this will only go further. And after tonight, I need sleep, not whatever trouble Matt and Chris bring.

So, I do the only sensible thing—I turn my phone on silent, roll over, and ignore them.

The sun is already high in the sky when I finally stir, stretching lazily as I blink the sleep from my eyes. My body feels heavy with the kind of exhaustion that comes from a late night and too much thinking.

I roll over, grabbing my phone from the nightstand, and squint at the screen as the brightness stings my eyes. A few notifications pop up, but one catches my attention immediately.

Chris: Yo, you coming over tonight?

I bite my lip, debating for a moment before sighing and typing out a response.

Y/N: Can’t. I have work tonight.

The reply comes almost instantly.

Chris: Damn. What do you even do?

I hesitate, then shrug to myself. No harm in telling them.

Y/N: I’m a pediatric nurse at the children’s hospital.

This time, there’s a longer pause. I watch the little dots appear and disappear a couple of times before the response finally comes through.

Chris: No shit? That’s kinda unexpected.

Before I can reply, another message pops up—this time from Matt.

Matt: Didn’t peg you for the life-saving type, sweetheart. That’s cute.

I roll my eyes, a small smile tugging at my lips despite myself.

Y/N: Well, someone’s gotta do it.

Chris replies almost immediately.

Chris: Yeah, yeah. Alright, baby nurse Rain check on the invite then.

I shake my head, tossing my phone onto the bed with a sigh. I have no idea why I’m even entertaining this, but I’d be lying if I said the attention wasn’t a little thrilling.

Still, I have bigger things to focus on—like getting ready for another long night at the hospital.

After sending my last message, I decide I need food before I do anything else. Rolling out of bed, I throw on a pair of leggings and a hoodie, slipping into my sneakers before heading out.

The crisp Boston air wakes me up as I walk to a nearby café, the smell of fresh coffee and baked goods filling my senses. I order a turkey and avocado sandwich with an iced coffee, finding a quiet corner to sit and eat while scrolling mindlessly through my phone.

Despite trying to distract myself, my thoughts keep circling back to last night. The party, the way Matt and Chris looked at me, Jordan’s warning—it’s all still fresh. But I shake it off, finishing my meal before heading back home.

The afternoon is quiet. I curl up on the couch with a book, letting myself get lost in the pages for a couple of hours. Before I know it, 5 PM rolls around, and it’s time to start getting ready.

I head to my room, pulling on my pink scrub pants and black scrub top, smoothing out the fabric as I glance in the mirror. The outfit is a stark contrast from what I wore last night—practical, professional. A reminder of the life I actually live.

Filling up my water bottle, I move to the bathroom and carefully braid my hair into a tight French braid, securing it with an elastic. Once I’m satisfied, I grab my work bag, making sure I have everything I need for my shift.

Then, on impulse, I pull out my phone, open the group chat, and snap a mirror selfie.

Y/N: Since you two think I don’t look like the life-saving type…

I hit send before I can second-guess it, tossing my phone onto the bed with a smirk.

It doesn’t even take a minute before the notifications roll in.

My phone vibrates almost instantly, and I can’t help but smirk as I grab it off the bed.

Chris: Damn. Gotta say, never thought scrubs could look good, but you’re proving me wrong, Nurse Y/N.

Matt: Cute.

I roll my eyes at Matt’s short response just as another text pops up from him.

Matt: But you should know, sweetheart, sending us pictures like this? Feels a little like you’re asking for trouble.

My stomach does a little flip, and I bite my lip before responding.

Y/N: Just showing you both that I actually have a real job.

Chris replies first.

Chris: Yeah, yeah. Responsible. Hardworking. We get it.

Then Matt’s response comes through.

Matt: Still trouble.

I shake my head, letting out a small laugh.

Y/N: You two are ridiculous. I gotta go, my shift starts soon.

Chris sends one final message before I can lock my phone.

Chris: Try not to miss us too much.

I roll my eyes again, shoving my phone into my bag before heading out the door. I don’t bother replying..

The hospital is already buzzing with energy when I walk through the sliding doors. It doesn’t matter that it’s nearing 7 PM—this place never sleeps. I check in at the nurse’s station, grabbing my assignment for the night: the pediatric respiratory unit again.

I take a deep breath, mentally preparing myself for the next twelve hours. These shifts are long, exhausting, and emotionally draining, but this is what I signed up for. And despite the hardships, I love my job.

After quickly organizing my supplies—a stethoscope around my neck, pens in my scrub pocket, patient notes in hand—I start my rounds.

My first patient is a six-year-old boy with asthma who had a severe attack earlier in the day. He’s still on oxygen, but his breathing has stabilized. I check his vitals, listen to his lungs, and talk with his mom about how he’s been doing. She looks exhausted, sitting beside his bed, and I reassure her that he’s in good hands.

Next is a four-year-old girl with pneumonia. She’s curled up in bed watching Bluey, her tiny body still looking too weak for her age. I check her IV fluids and gently adjust her oxygen cannula, smiling when she murmurs a soft "thank you."

Each patient has a different story, different needs, but they all have one thing in common—they just want to feel better.

Just as I finish checking in on my assigned patients, the call lights flash and an emergency admission is brought in—a three-year-old boy, struggling to breathe, his little chest rising and falling rapidly.

I move quickly, assisting the team as we hook him up to monitors, administer nebulizer treatments, and assess his oxygen levels. His parents look terrified, his mom holding onto his tiny hand while the doctors work.

Hours like this are tough. Seeing kids struggle, seeing parents so helpless—it never gets easier. But I focus on what I can do, staying calm and efficient.

Once his breathing stabilizes, I kneel down next to his bed and offer him a small sticker from my pocket. “You’re a superhero, buddy,” I whisper. His tired little eyes blink up at me before he gives a small smile.

Moments like that make the long nights worth it.

After running around non-stop, I finally get a chance to grab a quick break. I heat up a protein bar and sip on coffee in the break room, scrolling through my phone absentmindedly.

A text from Matt pops up.

Matt: How’s saving lives going?

I shake my head, smirking.

Y/N: Exhausting.

A second later, another message comes through.

Chris: Yeah? Need a hero of your own, baby nurse?

I roll my eyes but can’t help but smile.

Y/N: I need another coffee. That’s what I need.

I don’t wait for a reply before stuffing my phone back into my pocket and heading back to work.

The hospital always feels eerily quiet at these hours, the overhead lights dimmed, the hallways empty except for the occasional nurse or doctor making their rounds.

I check on my patients, making sure their oxygen levels are steady, adjusting IVs, and giving midnight medications. A few kids are awake, restless in their beds, so I sit with them for a bit, offering soft reassurances and gentle smiles.

One little girl, barely five, clutches a stuffed bunny as I tuck her blankets around her. “Will you still be here when I wake up?” she whispers sleepily.

My heart clenches.

“Of course,” I say softly, brushing a few strands of hair from her forehead. “I’ll be right here.”

She nods, satisfied, and closes her eyes.

Just as I think the night might slow down, the emergency alarms blare—a Code Blue in one of the rooms. My heart jumps, and I rush toward the sound, adrenaline kicking in.

A toddler with severe RSV has suddenly crashed. The team moves in fast, performing CPR, adjusting the ventilator, pushing emergency medications. It’s chaotic, intense, but everyone knows their role.

For what feels like forever, we fight to stabilize him. And finally his vitals pick back up. I exhale a shaky breath as the tension in the room eases.

I step out for a moment, leaning against the wall, trying to steady my own heartbeat. It’s moments like these that remind me how fragile life is.

The hospital starts to come alive again as the night shift slowly transitions into morning. I go over charts, update parents on their kids’ conditions, and prepare my final reports for the oncoming nurses.

By 6:45 AM, I’m running on fumes, but I push through, making sure everything is in order before handing off my patients.

Finally, at 7:00 AM, the shift is over.

As I clock out, exhaustion settles into my bones, but there’s also a sense of fulfillment. It was a long, grueling night.

I step out of the hospital and take a deep breath of the crisp morning air. My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I glance down.

Matt: Morning, sweetheart. Survive the night?

I shake my head as I type back.

Y/N: Barely. Time to go home and sleep for a year.

Chris responds a second later.

Chris: Dream of us, baby nurse.

I let out a tired laugh, slipping my phone away as I make my way into my car. Sleep has never sounded so good.

The first thing I register when I wake up is the soft vibration of my phone against the pillow beside me. My eyes flutter open, squinting at the late afternoon light filtering through my curtains. My body feels heavy, drained from last night’s shift, but the buzzing persists, forcing me to acknowledge the world outside my bed.

I groggily roll over and grab my phone, blinking at the screen.

Jordan: Wake up, Sleeping Beauty. Your little admirers won’t stop bugging me.

I rub my eyes, confusion still clouding my brain as I scroll to the next message.

Jordan: Matt and Chris are being annoying as hell. They want to know if you’re coming to the trap with me tonight.

That wakes me up a little more.

I stare at the message, the word trap standing out in bold letters. I know exactly what she means—the house we went to the other night, the one Matt and Chris apparently operate out of.

A part of me knows I shouldn’t even consider it. Jordan has warned me plenty of times to stay away, and last night at work was a stark reminder that I have enough chaos in my life without adding two dangerous, flirty drug dealers to the mix.

But then I remember the way Matt looked at me. The way Chris smirked when he pulled me into their little game.

I bite my lip, fingers hovering over my keyboard before I finally type back.

Y/N: You act like you don’t love the attention.

Jordan’s reply comes almost instantly.

Jordan: Girl. Please. Are you coming or not?

I hesitate, then sigh.

Y/N: Fine. But if anything sketchy happens, I’m blaming you.

Jordan: Fair. Be ready by 6.

I toss my phone onto my bed and groan, stretching out my sore limbs. Looks like my night just took an unexpected turn.

I drag myself out of bed, still feeling the exhaustion from my shift lingering in my bones. If I’m going to the trap tonight, I’m doing it on my terms—comfortable and low effort.

Digging through my dresser, I pull out a pair of wide-leg grey sweatpants and a tight long-sleeve crop top, something easy and cozy. I slide on my Ugg slippers, relishing the instant comfort they bring. I know Jordan is probably going to roll her eyes at me for not dressing up, but I honestly don’t care.

I make my way to the bathroom, splashing cold water on my face to wake myself up before slicking my hair back into a tight ponytail. I keep it simple with my silver jewelry—small hoops, my everyday rings, and a dainty chain necklace. A little mascara and lip balm, and I’m calling it good enough.

Just as I’m finishing up, I hear the familiar sound of a car pulling up outside. I grab my phone and bag, taking one last look in the mirror before heading out.

Jordan’s Jeep is already waiting at the curb, her fingers drumming impatiently on the steering wheel.

I slide into the passenger seat, barely getting the door closed before she smirks at me. “Seriously? You dress like you’re about to take a nap, not hang out with two guys who are obsessed with you.

I roll my eyes. “I just worked a twelve-hour shift, Jordan. They should be honored I even agreed to go.”

She snorts, putting the car in drive. “You keep telling yourself that, babe.”

With that, she speeds off, the city lights blurring as we head toward whatever trouble the night has in store.

As soon as we pull up to the house, I can tell it’s way more crowded than the last time we were here. Cars line the street, music pulses from inside, and groups of people linger on the porch, smoking and laughing. The air smells like a mix of weed, cologne, and the crisp bite of the night.

Jordan parks, cutting the engine. She throws me a look. “Last chance to change your mind.”

I huff, unbuckling my seatbelt. “Not happening.”

She grins. “I cant believe im letting you do this”

We step out of the Jeep, making our way toward the front door. I’m barely two steps inside before I spot Chris leaning against the kitchen counter, red solo cup in hand. He’s mid-conversation with someone, but the moment his eyes land on me, his entire expression shifts into something wickedly amused.

“Well, well, well.” Chris pushes off the counter, his eyes raking over my comfy outfit. “If it isn’t my pretty girl.”

I raise a brow. “Yours?”

He smirks, taking a slow sip of his drink before answering. “Oh yeah” He steps closer, his voice dropping slightly. “I always get what I want”

I scoff, crossing my arms. “Guess you don't know much about me”

Chris tilts his head, his smirk widening. “Nah. I will though.”

I shake my head, trying to suppress the small smile threatening to form. “You’re ridiculous.”

He leans in slightly, lowering his voice like he’s telling me a secret. “And you’re in trouble.”

Before I can respond, Jordan tugs at my arm, rolling her eyes at Chris. “Can you stop flirting for five seconds? We just got here.”

Chris holds up his hands in surrender. “Hey, I’m just being friendly.” His eyes flick back to me, full of teasing interest. “But if you ever want me to be more than that, you just let me know.”

I laugh, shaking my head as Jordan drags me further into the house. But even as we move through the crowd, I can still feel Chris’s eyes on me.

As the night goes on, more and more people start filtering out. The once-crowded house is now quieter, the lingering scent of smoke and alcohol thick in the air. Eventually, it’s just me, Jordan, Matt, Chris, and two other guys who I haven’t met yet, lounging around the living room. The music is still playing, but softer now, the vibe more laid-back.

Chris stretches out on the couch, looking completely at ease. “Alright, Y/N,” he says, tipping his head toward the two guys. “Since you’re officially part of tonight’s after-hours crew, time for introductions.”

Matt gestures lazily between them. “This is Jaxon and Devin. They help us run shit.”

Jaxon gives me a small nod, his dark curls falling over his forehead. “So, you’re the girl Matt and Chris won’t shut up about.”

I blink in surprise, glancing at Matt, who just smirks, completely unbothered.

“Shut the fuck up,” he mutters, but there’s no real heat behind it.

Chris chuckles, leaning back. “We told you. You got our attention.”

I don’t even get the chance to respond before Matt grabs a blunt from the table, lighting it effortlessly before taking a slow drag. He exhales the smoke smoothly, passing it over to Chris, who takes his turn before handing it off to Jaxon and Devin.

When it comes back around, Matt holds it out to me. “Here, your turn.”

I hesitate, looking down at it. “I, uh… I’ve never smoked before.”

Chris, who was mid-sip of his drink, lets out a low grunt “mm”

Matt, on the other hand, just grins. “That’s alright, sweetheart. I’ll help you.” His voice is smooth, teasing, but there’s something else there, something almost coaxing.

I glance at Jordan, who just shrugs, completely unfazed.

Matt leans in a little closer, still holding it out to me. “C’mon, just one hit. I’ll walk you through it.”

I bite my lip, debating, but something about the way he’s looking at me makes me nod.

“Alright,” I say quietly.

Matt’s smirk deepens, and he moves in beside me, closer than before.

“Good girl,” he murmurs. “Now, let’s teach you how to do this right.”

Matt shifts even closer, his knee brushing against mine as he brings the blunt up to my lips. His fingers barely graze my chin, tilting it slightly, my gaze drifts right to Chris.

Chris is watching me intently, his eyes dark, half-lidded, like he’s enjoying every second of this. His tongue darts out to swipe across his bottom lip, and I swear my stomach flips.

Matt notices. Of course, he does. But he doesn’t say anything—just smirks and holds the blunt steady. “Slow inhale, sweetheart,” he instructs, voice low, coaxing. “Don’t rush it.”

I do as he says, lips parting around the blunt as I take a slow, careful pull. The smoke fills my lungs, warm and unfamiliar, but not harsh. Not like I expected.

I don’t cough.

Matt watches me closely, his fingers still lingering near my face. “That’s it,” he murmurs. “Hold it… now exhale.”

I slowly blow the smoke out, my lips barely parting as the cloud escapes. Chris tilts his head, his eyes dragging over my mouth like he’s just seen something he really, really likes.

Matt chuckles under his breath, clearly pleased. “Damn,” he says, leaning back slightly. “Didn’t even choke. I’m impressed.”

Chris hums, still holding eye contact with me. “Yeah. She’s a natural.”

My cheeks feel warm, and it has nothing to do with the weed.

Jordan suddenly rolls her eyes, cutting through the tension. “Alright, boys, that’s enough drooling over her.”

I giggle, feeling the slight rush of amusement mix with the warmth in my chest. Matt just smirks, and Chris leans back, taking another slow hit like he wasn’t just eye-fucking me two seconds ago.

Time starts to blur after that. The music, the dim lights, the haze of smoke in the air—it all blends together. I feel lighter, warmer, like my body is floating just slightly above reality. I melt deeper into the couch, a lazy smile tugging at my lips.

Jordan must notice because she nudges me. “Feeling it?”

I nod, biting my lip. “Mmhmm.”

Devin, who’s been chilling quietly up until now, suddenly leans forward, his grin mischievous. “Alright, since little miss first-timer is officially baked, how about we play a game?”

Chris raises a brow. “What kind of game?”

Devin’s smirk widens. “Let’s make it interesting, Truth or Dare.”

Matt chuckles, his eyes flickering to me. “Yeah, I like the sound of that.”

A sudden wave of anticipation rolls through me. I’m not sure if it’s the weed, the atmosphere, or just the way they’re all looking at me.

Devin claps his hands together, eyes glinting with mischief. “Alright, we’ll keep it simple. You either answer honestly, or you do the dare. No backing out.”

I nod, sinking deeper into the couch. The weed has me loose, warm, and buzzing, and right now, a little game sounds like a good idea.

Matt smirks, resting his arm along the back of the couch, fingers just barely grazing my shoulder. “Alright, who’s first?”

Devin grins. “Since I started the game, I get to pick.” His eyes land directly on me. “Y/N. Truth or dare?”

I hesitate, feeling every pair of eyes locked on me. A little rush of excitement rolls through me, mixing with the high.

“Dare.”

Chris whistles low, shaking his head. “I can't wait to see how this plays out.” I smirk at him.

Devin chuckles. “Alright, then. I dare you to sit on Matt’s lap for the next three rounds.”

My stomach tightens. I flick a glance at Matt, expecting him to look cocky, but his smirk has sharpened into something darker, more intense. He spreads his legs slightly, patting his thigh.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he murmurs. “You can handle that, can’t you?”

A slow burn creeps up my spine, but I don’t let myself hesitate. I shift forward, swinging my leg over and settling onto his lap. His hands instantly find my waist, a firm but relaxed hold, like he’s done this a million times.

The warmth of him seeps through my clothes, and suddenly, I’m hyper-aware of how close we are.

Chris shakes his head, smirking. “This game just got a whole lot more interesting.”

Jaxon is up next. He turns to Jordan. “Truth or dare?”

Jordan hums, tapping a finger against her chin. “Truth.”

Jaxon smirks. “Alright, who’s the best kisser in this room?”

Jordan laughs, completely unfazed. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Chris groans. “That’s a cop-out.”

Jordan shrugs. “Maybe you should’ve dared me to show you instead.”

“The room erupts in laughter, and just like that, the tension shifts— playful, teasing, electric.

Next, it’s Chris’s turn. Matt grins. “Truth or dare?”

Chris leans forward, locking eyes with me. “Dare.”

Matt’s grin widens. “Kiss Y/N.”

My breath catches.

Chris raises a brow, looking at Matt. “Are you sure about that?”

Matt’s hands tighten on my waist, but he just smirks. “Yeah.”

Chris tilts his head, amusement flickering across his face before he looks back at me. Waiting.

I swallow, pulse pounding, heat curling low in my stomach.

“Your call, babe.”

I swallow hard, my pulse thudding in my ears as I flick my gaze between Chris and Matt.

Chris is watching me closely, a challenge in his eyes, while Matt’s grip on my waist tightens just slightly. He doesn’t seem jealous, not exactly—but there’s something possessive in the way his fingers press into my skin, like he’s silently reminding me whose lap I’m sitting on.

The room feels charged, electric.

I take a slow breath, then lean forward.

Chris meets me halfway.

His lips are warm, soft but firm, and the moment we connect, a small shockwave rolls through me. It’s slow at first, almost testing—then Chris tilts his head, deepening it just slightly, his hand cupping my jaw.

A low hum vibrates in his throat as he pulls away, his thumb brushing my bottom lip.

“Damn,” he murmurs, grinning. “Didn’t expect you to actually do it.”

I exhale, trying to ignore the way my skin feels like it’s buzzing. Matt chuckles behind me, his fingers squeezing my waist.

“Didn’t expect her to be that into it, either,” he teases.

I shoot him a playful glare, but before I can say anything, Chris reaches for the blunt, taking a slow hit like nothing just happened.

Jordan shakes her head. “Alright, moving on before you two idiots start fighting over her.”

Devin grins, looking directly at me. “Your turn, Y/N.”

I shift slightly on Matt’s lap, feeling his grip flex against me. “Alright… Jaxon, truth or dare?”

Jaxon smirks. “Dare.”

A mischievous spark lights in my chest. “Take a body shot off Jordan.”

The room erupts in laughter. Jordan groans, rolling her eyes but doesn’t protest as she leans back, tugging her shirt slightly up to reveal a sliver of her stomach.

As Jaxon takes the shot, the game spirals into chaos.

Jaxon is dared to strip down to his boxers and run around the house. Devin has to text his ex something completely unhinged. Jordan gets dared to whisper something dirty in Matt’s ear, and the way his smirk curves afterwards sends a shiver down my spine.

Finally, it circles back to Matt. He leans back against the couch, eyes glinting with something dark and unreadable.

“Y/N,” he says smoothly. “Truth or dare?”

My stomach flutters. “Dare.”

Matt’s grin sharpens. “I dare you to let me take you to my room.”

The laughter dies.

Every pair of eyes locks on us, but I barely notice.

Because Matt is looking at me like he’s already won.

Before I can even process Matt’s words, Jordan claps her hands together loudly, breaking the tension.

“Nope!” she announces. “That’s it, game over. I’m calling it a night before things get out of hand.”

Matt groans dramatically, but there’s a flicker of amusement in his eyes. “C’mon, Jord. We were just having fun.”

Jordan levels him with a deadpan stare. “Oh, I bet you were.” She turns to me, grabbing my wrist and pulling me up off Matt’s lap. “You two have had your fun. Time to go.”

Chris chuckles, shaking his head. “Cockblock of the year award goes to Jordan.”

“Damn right,” she retorts. “Someone’s gotta keep this one out of trouble.” She jerks her thumb toward me.

I roll my eyes but don’t argue. My head is still spinning from the weed, the game, Matt’s dare, the kiss with Chris—all of it.

Matt leans back on the couch, watching me with a lazy smirk. “Guess I’ll have to collect on that dare some other time, sweetheart.”

Jordan scoffs. “Yeah, not happening.”

She practically drags me out the door, ignoring the laughter behind us as we step into the cool night air.

As soon as we’re in the car, she glances at me. “What the fuck was that?”

I blink, still trying to clear my head. “What?”

Jordan gives me a look. “Matt. Chris. You. That whole game. You’re playing with fire, Y/N.”

I exhale, leaning my head against the window, a small smirk tugging at my lips.

Maybe I was.

By the time Jordan pulls up to my apartment, the buzz from the night is still lingering in my veins. I step out of the car, the cool air nips at my skin.

Jordan leans over the console, watching me with a knowing look. “Go to bed, and don’t do anything stupid.”

I roll my eyes, smirking. “No promises.”

She groans, but I shut the door before she can say anything else.

Inside, my apartment is silent, peaceful, a stark contrast to the chaos I just left behind. I kick off my slippers by the door, stretching my arms over my head before making my way to the bathroom.

The reflection staring back at me in the mirror looks… different. My eyes are still a little glassy from the weed, my lips slightly swollen from biting them all night. I shake my head at myself, turning on the faucet to wash my face, letting the cool water snap me back into reality.

After brushing my teeth, I change into an oversized t-shirt and a pair of comfy shorts. The second my head hits the pillow, my body melts into the mattress, exhaustion creeping in.

I reach for my phone on the nightstand, hesitating for a second before unlocking it.

One new text.

From Matt.

Matt: Sweet dreams, sweetheart. Try not to miss me too much.

I bite my lip, debating whether to reply.

But instead, I turn off my phone, roll over, and let sleep pull me under.

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