how would you feel about writing a threesome about some players? 🤭 and if yes, could those players be connor dewar and matthew knies? 🤭🤭
bad idea! - 2324 (m. knies, c. dewar)
“You put your hands under my shirt,
undid my bra and said these words;
‘Darling, you’re so pretty, it hurts.’”
summary: a housewarming party turns into something new… for all parties involved.
pairing: boyfriend!matthew knies x girlfriend!fem!reader x new guy!connor dewar
word count: 8.6k
warnings: SO INCREDIBLY NSFW. PLEASE DON’T READ IF YOU’RE A MINOR OR UNCOMFORTABLE. Alcohol, unprotected sex(oral, m receiving, & p in v) degradation and derogatory language, creampie, threesome? I mean it’s in the title.
notes:
- would like to insinuate! that this is wildly unrealistic and would never happen in real life! they both have girlfriends! hockey tumblr is just insane I fear.
- anon you’re actually insane. I stared at this request for SO LONG when I got it. But I’ve delivered.
- this is so out of my comfort zone once again, hopefully I didn’t completely butcher it.
- was initially doing boyfriend dewey but boyfriend matt felt right.
- ^ them calling each other their silly little locker room nicknames while literally doing unspeakable things is so funny to me but it made so much sense.
- this is the new gen of marner x matthews x reader threesome fics. the youngins are taking over.
- not super proof read.
***
You’ve found yourself on a plush sofa, all wrapped up in your boyfriends arms, perched on his lap. Nothing weird, right? Except for the fact that it’s not your house. And you’re not alone.
It started out as a housewarming party. One where, the new guy on the team invited everyone over to his new place to get to know each other—pretty much a pity excuse to drink beer and fool around.
The apartment is nice, like, scary nice, with floor-to-ceiling windows that made Toronto look far nicer than it actually was. But eventually, the team cleared out, their perfect blonde WAG’s hooked to their arms as they left behind bottles of nice wine that the host would probably never touch if it weren’t for you and Matthew being the only ones left—probably overstaying your welcome.
You were different than the rest of the girls. Not like you were trying to, you actually felt a little isolated and wanted to be included, but just never found your fit. It didn’t help that he was the youngest on the team, and you didn’t have much in common with anyone else, except one guy.
“Aha! Got it!” Connor celebrates along with the pop of the cork from the bottle of fancy red. One of your hands is busy raking through the soft strands of Matthew’s hair, but you happily take a glass from Connor, handing it to Matthew before you obtain your own.
The warm burn down your throat causes your body to melt further into Matthew’s, and he responds by tightening his arms around you. You can’t help but let out a little sigh of contentment, fully melting into Matthew’s embrace. He’s always been the kind of guy who knows exactly how to make you feel comfortable—whether it’s on the ice or right here, on his lap, in someone else’s swanky apartment. But right now, your thoughts are split between the delicious red wine and the man across from you. With a smack of your lips, you raise your glass toward Connor. “Damn, this is actually pretty good. Who brought it?” You ask.
Connor takes a seat on the sofa, setting down his own wine glass on the coffee table as he reaches for the bag he received it in. His voice snaps you out of your tipsy reverie. "Welcome to Toronto, from the Marners," he reads with a smirk, clearly amused by the fancy tag. His green eyes flick up to meet yours, and you can’t help but notice how the dim lighting makes them appear even more intense.
You take a slow sip from your glass, pretending to contemplate the wine, but really you're just trying to figure out how you ended up here—tipsy, on your boyfriend’s lap, in the apartment of the guy with those ridiculously green eyes. Maybe it's the wine, or maybe it's the way Matthew’s fingers trace absent patterns on your thigh, but you suddenly feel a little more flustered than usual.
“From the Marners, huh? Figures,” you quip, your lips curving into a smirk. “Only they’d bring something so fancy to a party that’s basically just a glorified excuse to get hammered.”
Matthew chuckles against your neck, his lips grazing your skin in a way that sends a shiver down your spine. “Mitchy’s always gotta be the classy one,” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing.
Connor raises an eyebrow, his grin widening as he takes a sip of his own wine. “You saying this wine’s too good for you, Matt?”
Matthew snorts, his arms tightening around you even more as he leans forward, bringing you with him. “Nah, just saying I’m more of a beer guy.”
“Same,” Connor admits, setting the bottle aside. “But I’m not complaining about this.” He tilts his glass toward you in a silent toast, and you return it with a little more enthusiasm than necessary, feeling the alcohol start to take effect.
"Good thing we stayed," Matthew murmurs into your ear, his breath warm against your skin. It sends a shiver down your spine, and you instinctively lean back into him, his arms tightening around you as if sensing your need for closeness.
Before long, the wine bottle is nearly empty, and you’re all more than a little tipsy. You’re laughing at something Connor said—something about how his mom still sends him care packages even though he’s a grown man and a professional athlete—and you suddenly realize just how close you are to him now. At some point, you must’ve leaned forward in Matthew’s lap, and now your legs are tangled with Connor’s, your hands still absentmindedly playing with Matthew’s hair.
Connor’s gaze flickers down to where your legs are brushing against his, and then back up to your eyes. There’s a pause, just a fraction of a second, but it’s enough to make your breath catch in your throat. It’s as if the air between the three of you shifts, becoming something more charged, more electric. You can feel Matthew’s heartbeat against your back, steady but quickening, and you wonder if he’s feeling the same thing you are.
"So," Connor says, his voice casual but his eyes anything but. "You two have been together for how long now?"
"Two years," you reply, a little too quickly, as if that solidifies something, even though you're not sure what.
"Yeah, two years," Matthew echoes, his thumb rubbing circles on your thigh, and you swear the air in the room thickens just a little.
"That’s a pretty long time," Connor remarks, his tone unreadable, but there's a glint in his eyes that makes your pulse quicken. "Guess you two must know each other pretty well by now."
You nod, biting your lip to stop the nervous laugh that wants to escape. "Yeah, you could say that."
Connor’s lips curl into a smile that’s just shy of being a smirk. "Ever get bored?"
The question hangs in the air, heavy and charged, and you’re not sure if the heat you feel is from the wine or the way both guys are looking at you. Your mind scrambles for a response, but nothing comes out, and it’s Matthew who finally breaks the silence.
"Nah," he says, his voice low and playful. "We keep things... interesting."
There’s a pause, and then Connor chuckles, the sound rich and knowing. "I bet."
You swallow hard, trying to focus on the conversation. “So, uh, Connor… you’re not too lonely here in Toronto, are you?” The words come out a little more suggestive than you intended, and you internally cringe, hoping he doesn’t notice. But then again, maybe you hope he does.
Connor’s grin turns slightly lopsided, and there’s a glint in his eyes that makes your stomach flip. “Not when I’ve got good company like this,” he says, his voice low, almost a purr. His hand rests on the back of the sofa, just inches from where your knee is resting, and you can feel the heat radiating off him, even from this short distance.
Matthew shifts behind you, his grip on your waist tightening just a bit, and suddenly you’re hyper-aware of every point of contact between the three of you. Your mind starts racing, thinking of the possibilities, the what-ifs, and the little voice in your head that usually screams “bad idea” is strangely quiet.
You take another sip of your wine, trying to calm the racing of your heart. “You know,” you say, your voice softer now, almost conspiratorial, “this place really is way too nice for just one person. You should throw more parties, Connor. Get people over here more often.”
Connor’s smile widens, and he leans in a little closer, his gaze never leaving yours. “You offering to help me break this place in?”
Matthew’s hand slips under the hem of your shirt, his fingers brushing against your bare skin, sending a shiver down your spine. His voice is a low rumble in your ear. “Want us to help with that right now, Dewey?”
Your brain practically short-circuits, the words looping in your head on repeat. Want us to help with that right now, Dewey? You blink, staring straight ahead as if your wine glass holds all the answers in the world. Did he really just say that?
Did he really just offer—
Connor's eyes flick from Matthew to you, and you can see the gears turning behind them. His lips twitch, like he's trying to decide if Matthew is joking or if he's serious. And, oh god, what if he’s serious?
Your mind races, desperately trying to catch up. You’ve known Matthew for two years, and sure, he’s always been the adventurous type—the guy who wanted to skydive on your first anniversary and suggested a spontaneous road trip across Canada when you had a weekend off. But this? This is a whole different level of adventurous, and it’s not exactly something you had penciled into your plans for the evening.
Sure, you’re both secure people. It’s the type of relationship where you have so much trust in each other that you don’t really care or notice when your partner is talking to somebody else. Hell, you’d even talked about spicing up your sex life— but now?
Your voice is stuck in your throat, so you take another sip of wine, hoping the alcohol will somehow give you the courage to say something. Anything. Preferably something that doesn’t make you sound like a complete idiot. But when you glance at Connor again, you see that his grin has shifted into something a bit more… intrigued. Okay, so maybe he’s not freaked out.
Matthew’s fingers are still tracing patterns on your skin, and now it feels like they’re leaving little trails of fire wherever they touch. You can feel the warmth of his breath on your neck, the solid weight of his arms around you, and beneath it all, the steady thump-thump-thump of his heartbeat against your back. You could probably melt into him if you weren’t so hyper-aware of everything.
Is this really happening?
You bite your lip, hard, trying to focus. You’ve always prided yourself on being level-headed, even in the most unexpected situations, but this? This is something else entirely. Your eyes dart to Connor again, and you notice the way his gaze lingers on where Matthew’s hand rests under your shirt. His lips part slightly, like he’s about to say something, but he doesn’t. And for a moment, the only sound is the soft hum of the city outside those enormous windows.
Okay, okay, okay, you mentally coach yourself. Focus. You’re in an apartment with two very attractive men who are both looking at you like you’re the last slice of pizza on game night. What do you do?
The smart thing to do would be to laugh it off. Make a joke, lighten the mood, and pretend like Matthew didn’t just suggest what he did. But another part of you—the part that’s had a few glasses of wine and is currently enjoying the hell out of the attention—wants to see where this goes. Just how adventurous are you feeling tonight?
No, you can’t seriously be considering this. Not in someone else’s apartment. Not with your boyfriend. And certainly not with your boyfriend and his ridiculously attractive teammate who has been eyeing you like a wolf eyeing a particularly tasty lamb chop.
And yet… the wine is humming through your veins, loosening the edges of your inhibitions. The buzz from the alcohol mingles with the warmth of Matthew’s hands on your skin, making it hard to think straight, let alone form a coherent response.
“Babe, are you—”
“Serious?” Matthew finishes for you, his tone a mix of playful and serious that only he can pull off. His fingers trace slow, lazy circles on your skin, and it’s becoming increasingly difficult to focus on anything other than the sensation of his touch. “I mean… you’ve seen the way Connor’s been looking at you all night.”
Your breath catches, and your eyes flick to Connor, who has gone oddly quiet, just watching the two of you with those intense green eyes. They practically glow in the dim light, and you’re pretty sure your heart just skipped a beat. Or maybe three.
Connor shifts slightly, leaning back against the armrest of the sofa, his posture casual, but there’s a tension in his shoulders that says he’s anything but relaxed. His gaze is like a physical thing, all focused and heavy, and it’s clear that he’s waiting for your response.
“So… you’re not freaked out?” you ask, directing the question at both of them, but your eyes are locked on Connor’s.
Matthew lets out a low chuckle that vibrates through your back. “Freaked out? Nah. Curious? Definitely.” His voice is teasing, but there’s an edge to it that you’ve never quite heard before. “Besides,” he adds, his breath hot against your ear, “I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at him too.”
Your heart does that annoying fluttery thing again, and you feel your face heat up. Damn it, why does Matthew have to be so perceptive? You had hoped you were being subtle, but apparently not.
But now that it’s out in the open, there’s no denying it. Yeah, you’ve been looking at Connor. How could you not? He’s practically a walking wet dream, in the way that he sort of looks like Matthew, but a bit scruffier, rougher. And those eyes? They could probably convince you to rob a bank if he looked at you long enough. And the way he’s looking at you now… well, you’re pretty sure he wouldn’t mind if you got a little… adventurous.
But then, he speaks.
“You up to share her, Kniesy?”
Your heart nearly stops at Connor’s question, and your brain short-circuits as you struggle to process the words. Did he really just say that? You’re sitting there, wine glass halfway to your lips, and the world seems to pause for just a moment, like the universe itself is holding its breath, waiting for someone to say something, do something—anything to break the tension hanging in the air like a thunderstorm about to crack open.
Matthew’s response is immediate, though. He doesn’t even hesitate. “Depends,” he says, and there’s a playful lilt in his voice, but the undercurrent of desire is unmistakable. “What’s in it for me?”
You’re so flustered you nearly spill your wine, but you manage to take a sip to calm your nerves—though you’re not sure why you think more alcohol is a good idea at this point. All it does is make the heat pooling in your lower belly more intense, more undeniable.
Connor’s eyes flick back to you, and his smirk widens, like he’s thoroughly enjoying the way you’re squirming on Matthew’s lap. “I think we can find a way to make it worth your while,” he replies smoothly, leaning forward just enough to close some of the distance between you. “But only if she’s up for it, of course.”
Oh, God. You’re pretty sure your face is bright red by now. The idea of being the focus of attention for both of these guys, of being shared between them—it’s something straight out of one of those steamy romance novels you hide under your pillow. Something you never thought would even remotely happen in real life. And yet here you are, in the middle of it, and you have absolutely no idea how to react.
A nervous laugh escapes your lips before you can stop it. “You guys are… You’re serious, aren’t you?” you manage to ask, your voice a little shaky, a little disbelieving, but also… maybe a little excited? You can’t even tell anymore. Everything feels so overwhelming, like your senses are dialed up to eleven.
Matthew’s lips press against the back of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine, and you can feel him grin against your skin. “Dead serious,” he murmurs, and the way his breath fans over your neck makes your pulse race.
You glance back at Connor, who’s watching you with an expression that’s both amused and predatory, like he’s enjoying every second of your internal struggle. “But only if you’re into it,” he adds, his voice softening just a touch. “We’re not gonna push you into anything, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart. The word sends a jolt through you, like a spark of electricity that zings right through your nerves. You swallow hard, trying to get your brain to catch up with what’s happening. It’s not like you haven’t thought about it—Connor’s been on your radar from the moment you walked into his apartment, his eyes drawing you in like a magnet. But you never expected this to actually happen. It was just a fantasy, something to laugh about later when you were alone with Matthew. But now it’s real, and you have to decide if you’re going to step into it or step away.
Matthew’s hand slips under your shirt again, this time tracing patterns that make you shiver. His fingers are warm, roughened from years of hockey, and they’re driving you to the brink of distraction. “We don’t have to,” he whispers in your ear, his breath tickling your skin. “But I think you want to.”
Your cheeks flush even hotter because damn it, he’s right. You do want to. You’ve wanted to since the second Connor sat down across from you with that lazy, self-assured grin. But admitting it? That’s a whole other thing. And what happens after?
You’re more than curious—your body is practically screaming at you to throw caution to the wind and dive headfirst into whatever this is. But your mind is still struggling to catch up, still trying to process the idea of… of what, exactly? Letting go? Letting both of them take you apart, piece by piece?
Oh God, why does that sound so appealing?
You glance at Connor again, and he’s closer now, his hand resting on your knee, his thumb drawing slow circles on your skin. It’s such a small, innocuous touch, but it sends a shock of electricity straight through you, and suddenly you’re very aware of just how close he is, how easily he could lean in and…
Your thoughts are interrupted by the feel of Matthew’s lips pressing against your neck, soft and teasing, and your resolve starts to crumble. His breath is warm against your skin, and the way his hands are roaming your body—slow, deliberate—makes it almost impossible to think straight.
Almost.
But then Connor leans in, his lips brushing against your temple, and that’s the moment your brain decides to completely short-circuit. Two sets of hands, two sets of lips, two sets of eyes watching your every reaction, waiting to see how you’ll respond—it’s overwhelming in the best way, and all the reasons you were hesitating before suddenly seem a lot less important.
“Okay,” you whisper, and you’re not sure who you’re talking to, or maybe you’re talking to both of them. “Okay.”
The word hangs in the air for a moment, and then Matthew’s lips curve into a grin against your skin. “Okay?” he repeats, his voice laced with anticipation.
“Okay,” you say again, this time a little louder, a little more confident. “But… go easy on me, okay? I’ve never done anything like this before.”
Connor’s hand squeezes your knee gently, reassuringly. “Don’t worry,” he says, his voice soft but firm. “We’ll take good care of you.”
You believe him. How could you not, with the way he’s looking at you, like you’re the only thing that matters? And with Matthew’s arms around you, grounding you, making you feel safe even as you’re about to step into something completely unknown—you know you’re in good hands.
“Okay,” you repeat absentmindedly, your voice a little steadier now. You’ve already said it, and you’re not going to back out. You’re in this. God help you, you’re in this.
Matthew smirks against your skin, and you can practically feel the satisfaction radiating off him. “Good girl,” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing, and oh, you hate how much you love that.
Connor’s hand squeezes your knee again, drawing your attention back to him. He’s closer now, his green eyes dark and intense, and it’s like he can see right through you. Like he knows exactly what you’re thinking, what you’re feeling. And maybe he does.
“You sure you’re ready for this, sweetheart?” Connor asks, his voice a mix of playful and serious, and damn it, why does he have to call you that? It’s doing things to you—things that are making it really hard to think straight.
“I think she’s ready,” Matthew answers for you, his lips brushing against your ear, and you shiver at the sensation. “She’s been ready since we walked in here.”
You open your mouth to protest, to say that’s not true—but then you stop yourself, because… well, it kind of is. You’ve been eyeing Connor since the moment you walked in, wondering what it would be like to get closer to him, to touch him, to feel him. And now you’re about to find out.
God, what have you gotten yourself into?
Connor’s hand slides up your thigh, his touch slow and deliberate, and you swear your brain just checked out. You’re pretty sure your IQ just dropped by about fifty points, because all you can think about is how good his hand feels on your skin. You’ve barely touched him, and already you’re on the verge of losing it.
Matthew chuckles, clearly enjoying your flustered state, and his fingers dig into your waist, pulling you tighter against him. “She’s definitely ready,” he says, and there’s a hint of mischief in his voice that makes you want to both kiss him and punch him at the same time.
Connor’s hand continues its journey up your thigh, slipping under your skirt, and oh god, you’re pretty sure you just forgot how to breathe. His fingers brush against your inner thigh, so close to where you’re starting to ache, and you can’t help but squirm in Matthew’s lap.
“You okay there, babe?” Matthew asks, his voice laced with amusement, and you can practically hear the grin in his voice.
“I’m fine,” you manage to say, though your voice is a little breathless, a little shaky. Fine? Yeah, that’s one word for it. Another word might be “freaking out,” but you’re not about to admit that.
Connor’s hand pauses, his thumb brushing against your skin in slow, teasing circles, and you swear you’re going to combust. “You’re sure?” he asks, his voice low and smooth, and you can feel his breath against your cheek.
“Yes,” you blurt out, a little too quickly, a little too loudly, and both guys chuckle at your obvious desperation. You immediately regret it, but there’s no taking it back now. You’ve already dug your grave, and now you have to lie in it.
“Eager, aren’t we?” Connor teases, and you want to snap back with a witty retort, but all that comes out is a strangled sound as his fingers finally brush against your panties. It’s the lightest touch, barely there, but it’s enough to make you gasp.
Matthew’s hands slide up your sides, his fingers warm and insistent as he pushes your shirt up and over your head. Your arms go up automatically, letting him strip you down, and there’s something so domestic about the way he does it, like this is just a normal Tuesday night and not… whatever this is about to be. His lips press against your neck, and you can feel him grin against your skin. “She’s always eager,” he says, and there’s a fondness in his voice that makes your heart squeeze even as your body melts under his touch.
Soon enough, their shirts are discarded too, and there’s suddenly twelve abs for you to stare at. Matthew’s hands continue their upward journey, sliding over your ribcage, fingers brushing just under the curve of your breasts. You feel like you’re losing your mind, and the way both of them are touching you isn’t helping. It’s like they’re playing a game, one where the goal is to make you completely forget how to function as a human being.
"How's she looking from over there, Dew?" Matthew asks, his tone casual, like they're discussing the weather. Except instead of clouds and sunshine, it's your rapidly escalating arousal.
"Pretty worked up," Connor replies, his voice low and just a touch wicked. His fingers hook into the waistband of your panties, tugging them down slowly, achingly slowly. "I think we can take care of that, though."
Matthew's hand cups your breast, squeezing gently before his thumb brushes over your nipple. The sensation shoots straight through you, and you have to bite down on your lip to keep from making a sound that would definitely give away just how turned on you are right now.
You can’t help it—your eyes flutter closed, and you let out a shaky breath as you lean back against Matthew, your head resting on his shoulder. You feel his lips curl into a smirk against your neck, and you know he’s enjoying every second of this.
Connor’s hand moves higher, his fingers slipping between your legs, and you gasp, your eyes snapping open. His touch is light, teasing, but it’s enough to make you arch your back, pressing yourself against Matthew’s chest.
“God, you’re so sensitive,” Connor murmurs, his voice dark and smooth like melted chocolate, and you shiver at the sound. His fingers brush against you again, more deliberate this time, and you let out a soft moan before you can stop yourself. “You like that, sweetheart?”
“I—” You’re not sure what you were going to say, but it’s lost as Matthew’s hand tightens on your breast, his thumb flicking over your nipple again, sending another wave of heat crashing through you. You’re caught between them, trapped in the best possible way, and all you can do is try to hold onto some semblance of composure. Which, frankly, is a losing battle at this point.
“Think she likes it, Dew,” Matthew comments, his voice dripping with amusement, and you want to glare at him, but your body betrays you, your hips lifting slightly to press against Connor’s hand.
Connor chuckles, low and deep, and you swear it vibrates through your whole body. “Yeah, I think she does too.” He leans in closer, his lips brushing against your cheek as he whispers, “You gonna be a good girl and let us take care of you?”
You nod, the motion jerky and unsteady, and you feel Matthew’s chest rumble with laughter behind you. “She’s such a good girl,” he murmurs, and you hate that his words make you shiver, that they make your breath hitch and your pulse race.
“I don’t know…” Connor’s voice is thoughtful, teasing, and you can practically feel the smirk on his lips. “Think she can handle the both of us, Matt?”
There’s a pause, and then Matthew’s hand slides down your body, his fingers slipping between your legs to join Connor’s. You suck in a breath, your whole body tensing as they both touch you, as they both start to explore, and it’s like every nerve ending in your body is suddenly on fire.
“Oh, I think she can handle it,” Matthew says, his voice low and wicked, and you let out a whimper as their fingers move in tandem, teasing and tormenting you until you’re squirming in their grasp, desperate for more.
“Please,” you manage to choke out, and you’re not sure what you’re asking for—more, less, anything to make this unbearable tension snap. But you don’t care, because you need something before you lose your mind.
Connor hums, clearly pleased with your desperation, and his fingers slide higher, finally brushing against your clit. You let out a gasp, your body jolting at the sudden jolt of pleasure, and you feel Matthew’s grip tighten on you, holding you steady as you squirm.
“You’re so wet, sweetheart,” Connor murmurs, his voice dark and husky, and you feel your face heat with embarrassment, but you can’t even bring yourself to care. “Is this all for me? What’s your boyfriend going to think of that?”
“W-what’s he going to think?” you stammer out, trying to keep your voice steady. It’s a futile effort, though. Your voice is breathy, trembling, and you know they can both hear it.
Connor chuckles, his thumb brushing over your clit in a slow, teasing circle. “Oh, I think he’ll understand. After all…” His lips brush against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine, and although you don’t know it, he locks eyes with Matthew. “He’s the one who got you into this mess, isn’t he?”
Your mind scrambles to process what he’s saying, but it’s hard to think when his fingers are working you over like that, making your thoughts scatter like leaves in the wind. You open your mouth to argue, to say something, anything that doesn’t make you sound like you’re seconds away from losing it, but all that comes out is a soft moan.
It’s too much. It’s all too much, but God, it’s not enough either.
You swallow hard, trying to gather your scattered thoughts, but they’re slipping through your fingers like sand. The pressure building inside you is unbearable, and you know you’re on the verge of losing whatever composure you’ve managed to hold on to.
“Connor, stop teasing her,” Matthew’s voice cuts through the haze, sharp and authoritative, like he’s giving an order. And maybe he is, because Connor’s fingers press a little harder, a little faster, and you let out a breathy moan that you’re sure they’ll both tease you about later. “She’s ready for more than this.”
You should probably be embarrassed by how desperate you sound, how completely at their mercy you are right now, but all you can think about is the way Connor’s fingers feel as they stroke you. The way Matthew’s hand feels against your breast, each touch pulling you deeper into the spiral of sensation. And it’s impossible to care about anything else, not when every nerve in your body is on high alert, every inch of your skin tingling under their touch.
“I’m not so sure,” Connor replies, and there’s a wicked edge to his voice that sends a shiver down your spine. “She’s all worked up, but she’s still so quiet. Maybe we’re not doing enough to really get her going.”
That snaps something inside you. They’re playing with you, pushing and pulling, trying to see how far they can go before you completely fall apart. And the worst part is, it’s working. You can barely keep up, your mind spinning as you try to figure out how to respond, how to prove them wrong.
“I’m not—” Your voice catches, breathy and uneven, and you try again, forcing the words out even as Connor’s fingers continue their merciless teasing. “I’m not quiet.”
“Oh?” Connor’s tone is mocking, but there’s a challenge in it too, one that makes your pulse spike. “You’re not quiet, huh? So you wouldn’t mind making a little more noise for us, then?”
You want to say something snarky, something to wipe that smug grin off his face, but all that comes out is a half-choked gasp as Matthew’s hand slides down your body, joining Connor’s in teasing your sensitive skin once again. The two of them are working together, their touches synchronized, perfectly in tune with each other—and with you.
It’s maddening, the way they seem to know exactly what you need, exactly how to push you to the brink without letting you fall over the edge. You’re so turned on, so completely overwhelmed, that you’re starting to lose track of what’s happening, of who’s touching you where. All you know is that it feels good, too good, and you don’t want it to stop.
Your breath hitches as Connor’s fingers finally, finally slip inside you, and you can’t help the way your body arches, pressing back against Matthew while pushing into Connor’s touch. It’s a pathetic move, driven by instinct and desperation, but at this point, you’ve abandoned all pretense of dignity.
“God, she’s still so wet,” Connor practically growls, his fingers moving inside you with a slow, deliberate rhythm that’s driving you insane. “I don’t think she’s going to last long, Kniesy.”
Matthew’s laughter rumbles through his chest, vibrating against your back, and it’s almost enough to distract you from the way Connor’s fingers are working you over. Almost. “You’re right, Dewey. Poor girl’s about to lose her mind.”
It’s like they’re speaking a different language, one that only they understand. The teasing, the way they’re talking about you like you’re not even here, it’s making your thoughts race. But it’s also turning you on even more, if that’s even possible. They’re both so confident, so in control, and you—well, you’re just trying to keep up.
“Think she’s ready for the next step?” Connor’s voice drops lower, his fingers curling inside you just right, and your breath stutters in your throat. You don’t even have the mental capacity to figure out what the “next step” is, but the way they’re both looking at you makes it clear that you’re about to find out.
“She’s ready,” Matthew answers for you, because of course he does. His hands move from your breasts to your waist, and suddenly he’s shifting you in his lap, turning you so that you’re facing Connor, who’s now standing in front of you with a wicked grin that sends a fresh wave of heat through you.
“Wait—” you start, but it’s too late. Matthew’s hands are on your hips, guiding you down to your knees on the floor in front of Connor, and it suddenly becomes very clear what they’ve got in mind. Your heart pounds in your chest, a mix of excitement and nerves, and you can barely think straight with the way they’re both looking at you.
“Such a good girl,” Matthew murmurs in your ear as his hands slide down your back, his lips brushing against your neck. “You’re going to take care of him, yeah?”
“Are you nervous, sweetheart?” Connor’s tone is gentle, teasing, but there’s a note of genuine curiosity there. His thumb presses a little harder against your lip, sliding it down until you feel the cool air on your tongue. “You don’t have to be, you know. We’ll take good care of you.”
“I’m not—” Your protest is cut off as Connor’s thumb pushes into your mouth, just enough to make your lips close around it. Instinctively, you suck, and the pleased hum he makes in response sends a shiver down your spine. Okay, you’re in trouble. Big, big trouble.
Behind you, Matthew’s hands are still resting on your hips, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles into your skin. It’s comforting, in a way, except for the fact that it’s doing absolutely nothing to calm you down. Especially not when you feel him shift, leaning in closer until his chest is pressed against your back, warm and solid.
“Relax, babe,” Matthew murmurs, his lips brushing your ear in a way that makes you shiver. “Just let us take over for a while. I promise, you’re going to like what happens next.”
You want to argue, to maintain some semblance of control, but the way they’re both looking at you, the way they’re touching you—it’s like they’ve already got you figured out, and honestly, maybe they do. You’re practically vibrating with need, and you know they can see it.
Connor finally pulls his thumb from your mouth, his eyes darkening as he watches the way your lips cling to it for just a second longer than necessary. “You’re so pretty like this,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough, and it sends a fresh wave of heat through you.
“Isn’t she?” Matthew agrees, his hands sliding up your sides, under your arms, and suddenly, he’s guiding you back, lifting you just enough that you end up half-sitting in his lap, your back against his chest. The position spreads your legs a little wider, and you can feel the way his fingers press into your thighs, holding you open. “Dew, why don’t you give her something to keep that pretty mouth busy?”
Connor’s grin is slow, almost predatory, as he stands, unbuttoning his pants with deliberate slowness. “You heard the man,” he says, his voice thick as he steps closer. “Open wide, sweetheart.”
Your heart is pounding so hard you’re sure they can both hear it, but somehow, you manage to obey, your mouth parting as Connor guides his cock toward your lips. You’ve barely had time to process the size of him before he’s slipping inside, and you can’t help but let out a little whimper as he fills your mouth.
“Good girl,” Connor breathes, his hand cupping the back of your head as he starts to move, slowly at first, just enough to let you get used to the feel of him. You focus on relaxing, on breathing through your nose, but it’s hard when you’re so aware of Matthew’s hands on your body, his lips trailing down your neck, and you realize you’re caught between them, completely at their mercy.
It’s a heady sensation, being so utterly out of control, and you can’t deny that it’s turning you on more than you thought possible. Connor’s hips are moving with a steady rhythm now, each thrust making you moan around him, and the sound only seems to spur him on.
“God, she’s so good at this,” Connor groans, his voice strained with pleasure. “You’ve got her trained well, Matt.”
Matthew chuckles, his hands moving to your breasts, kneading them through the fabric of your bra. “She’s a fast learner,” he says, and you can hear the smirk in his voice. “But I think she’s ready for a little more, don’t you?”
Connor's grin is slow, almost predatory, as he pulls out of your mouth. You barely have time to catch your breath before he’s reaching down, his hands brushing against Matthew’s as they both guide you onto your hands and knees. "Definitely ready," Connor agrees, his tone filled with anticipation.
Your mind is spinning, and you can’t believe you’re actually going along with this, but the way they’re both looking at you, like you’re the only thing they care about right now, makes it impossible to stop. You feel Matthew’s hands sliding down your back, steadying you as he moves behind you.
“Relax,” Matthew murmurs again, his voice soft but firm. “We’re going to make you feel so good.”
You’re about to respond, maybe even make a joke to lighten the tension, but the words get caught in your throat as you feel Matthew press into you from behind. The sensation of him filling you, slow and deliberate, makes your head spin, and you can’t help the gasp that escapes your lips.
“Fuck, you’re tight,” Matthew groans, his fingers digging into your hips as he starts to move. His thrusts are slow, deliberate, and you can feel every inch of him as he stretches you open. It’s somehow comforting, that he knows you so well to push you to the edge without letting you tip over, but you still can’t help the whimper that escapes your lips.
“That’s ‘cause she’s so worked up,” Connor chimes in, his voice filled with that familiar teasing edge. He’s still standing in front of you, his cock inches away from your lips, and you can tell he’s enjoying every second of this. “She’s been begging for it without even realizing.”
You want to argue, to deny it, but all that comes out is a soft, breathless moan as Matthew thrusts into you again, his pace picking up slightly. It’s impossible to focus on anything other than the way your body is responding to both of them, your skin tingling with every touch, every word.
“See? I told you,” Connor says with a smirk, his hand cupping your chin and guiding you to look up at him. “Now be a good girl and open up for me again. We wouldn’t want to leave you unsatisfied, would we?”
The challenge in his voice is enough to make your pulse spike, and despite the way your mind is spinning, you obey. Your lips part, and Connor’s fingers slide over your lower lip, teasing you for just a moment before he pushes his cock past them again. The sensation of being filled at both ends is overwhelming, and it’s all you can do to keep your moans muffled as Connor starts to move in sync with Matthew.
“There we go,” Connor murmurs, his voice low and soothing, like he’s coaxing you into submission. “Just like that. You’re taking us so well, sweetheart.”
Your mind is a haze of sensation, and it’s hard to keep track of who’s doing what. All you know is that you’re caught between them, every inch of your body alight with pleasure as they work together to take you apart. The feeling of Matthew’s cock moving inside you, paired with the way Connor’s thrusting into your mouth, is almost too much to handle. You can barely breathe, barely think, and you’re starting to wonder if you’ll survive this without completely losing it.
“Look at her,” Matthew murmurs, his voice thick with satisfaction as his hands tighten on your hips, steadying you. “She’s doing so well. You see how she’s taking us, Dew?”
Connor’s responding groan vibrates through you, his grip on your hair tightening as he thrusts just a little deeper. “Yeah, I see it. Fuck, she’s a natural.” His voice is rough, strained with the effort of holding back, and you can feel it too—the way his control is slipping, the tension winding tighter with every movement.
It should be too much. It is too much, but the way they’re talking about you, like you’re this perfect little plaything for them to share, has your head spinning in a different way. You’ve never felt so out of control, yet at the same time, you’re exactly where you want to be—caught between them, feeling everything they’re giving you, their attention focused entirely on you.
“God, you’re a mess,” Matthew says with a chuckle, his breath hot against your ear as he leans in closer. “You like this, huh? You like being our good girl?”
The way he says it, low and possessive, sends a shiver down your spine, and you can’t stop the soft, desperate moan that escapes your lips, muffled around Connor’s cock. You don’t even care how wrecked you sound—you just want more. You want them to keep going, to take you apart piece by piece until there’s nothing left.
Connor’s grip in your hair tightens as he pulls back slightly, giving you just enough space to breathe before he thrusts forward again, filling your mouth to the hilt. “She fuckin’ loves it,” he groans, his voice laced with pleasure. “Isn’t that right, sweetheart? You love being our little slut, don’t you?”
The dirty words shoot straight to your core, and you can’t help the way your body reacts, tightening around Matthew as a wave of pleasure crashes over you. It’s too much, but you don’t want it to stop. You’re caught in this heady mix of sensations, of being used and praised, and it’s making you dizzy.
“Fuck, baby, don’t do that,” Matthew grits out, his thrusts becoming more erratic, more desperate. You can feel his control slipping, his need to get off almost as intense as yours. “I can’t—Connor, she’s gonna make me come if I keep this up.”
Connor pulls out of your mouth with a groan, his hand cupping your chin and forcing you to look up at him. His eyes are dark with lust, a wicked grin playing at his lips. “Can’t have that now, can we? Why don’t you let me take over?”
Before you can even process what’s happening, Matthew is pulling out of you, his hands gripping your waist as he lifts you up and turns you around. The sudden movement leaves you breathless, your body still trembling with need, and you barely have time to catch your breath before Connor is guiding you onto his lap, his hands sliding under your thighs to spread you open like Matthew did.
“Look at you,” Connor murmurs, his voice filled with a mix of awe and lust as he takes in the sight of you, laid out before him. “You’re fucking perfect, sweetheart.”
You don’t have time to respond—not that you could, with the way your brain is currently short-circuiting—because Matthew is right there, his hands on your shoulders as he guides you up to his cock. “Come on, babe,” he says, his voice rough with need. “You know what to do.”
You obey without thinking, your lips parting as you take him into your mouth, your senses flooded with the taste of him. The moment your tongue touches him, he lets out a low groan, his hands threading through your hair as he starts to move, his hips thrusting forward in slow, deliberate motions.
Meanwhile, Connor isn’t wasting any time. He’s lining himself up with your entrance, his hands gripping your thighs as lowers you onto him in one smooth motion, filling you completely. The sudden stretch has you gasping around Matthew’s cock, your body arching off of him as pleasure and pain mix together in a heady, intoxicating blend.
“God, she’s tight,” Connor groans, his grip on your hips tightening as he thrusts into you with increasing intensity. “She’s practically squeezing me.”
Matthew chuckles, though it’s strained with his own arousal. “She’s doing great, Dewey. Look at her, taking both of us so well.” He tilts your head up slightly, his eyes dark with lust as he watches you struggle to keep up. “You’re such a good girl, aren’t you? Taking us both like this.”
The praise makes your stomach flip, and despite the intensity of the situation, you can’t help but feel a rush of pride at the way they’re both focused on you. The way they’re talking about you like you’re the only thing that matters right now, like they’re both completely caught up in the moment, sends a thrill of pleasure straight to your core.
But it’s also overwhelming, the way they’re both pushing you to your limits. You’re barely holding it together, your body trembling with the effort of keeping up with them, and you can feel the heat building in your belly, coiling tighter with every thrust. It’s too much, too fast, but you don’t want them to stop. You want more—you want everything they can give you.
Connor’s pace is relentless now, his thrusts coming faster and harder as he chases his own release. “Fuck, she’s close,” he mutters, his voice rough with need. “I can feel it. She’s gonna come any second.”
Matthew’s grip in your hair tightens, and he lets out a low groan as he thrusts deeper into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat. “You hear that, babe? Connor’s right. You’re so close, aren’t you? You want to come with us?”
You can’t answer—not with your mouth full—but the desperate, muffled moan you let out is answer enough. You’re on the brink, teetering on the edge of a mind-shattering orgasm, and all it takes is one more thrust from Connor, one more press of Matthew’s cock against the back of your throat, to send you tumbling over.
The orgasm crashes over you like a wave, and your whole body tenses as pleasure pulses through you in sharp, electric bursts. You’re barely aware of the way your nails dig into Matthew’s thighs, the way your legs shake as Connor fucks you through it, both of them focused entirely on wringing every last bit of pleasure out of you.
Connor’s pace falters as he feels you clench around him, his control slipping as he nears his own release. “Fuck,” he growls, his voice strained as he struggles to hold on. “I’m gonna come, sweetheart. You want that? You want me to fill you up?”
You can’t answer, but your body does it for you, your hips pushing back against him as if to say yes, yes, you want it. Matthew groans at the sight of you so desperate and needy, his own control slipping as well. “She wants it,” Matthew murmurs, his voice low and rough as he watches you. “She’s practically begging for it.”
Connor lets out a low curse as he finally loses control, his thrusts becoming erratic as he spills into you, filling you with a warmth that only intensifies the pleasure still thrumming through your veins. At the same time, Matthew’s hips jerk forward as he comes, his grip in your hair tightening as he holds you in place, his release hitting the back of your throat.
The sensation of both of them coming inside you, the way they’re both groaning your name, is enough to send another wave of pleasure washing over you, leaving you trembling and breathless. You’re completely spent, your body limp between them, but there’s a strange sort of satisfaction in knowing you took everything they gave you, that you pleased them both.
Connor’s breathing is ragged as he slowly pulls out, his hands still resting on your hips as he steadies you. “Fuck, that was… damn,” he mutters, his voice still thick with arousal as he gently strokes your back, trying to bring you down from your high.
Matthew’s hands are surprisingly gentle as he releases your hair, his fingers brushing over your cheeks as he tilts your head up to look at him. “You did so good, babe,” he murmurs, his voice low and soothing as he leans down to press a soft kiss to your lips.
You’re a mess. A happy, sated mess, but still, a mess. Your hair is sticking to your face, your clothes are in disarray, and you’re not entirely sure your legs will support you if you try to stand. And yet, somehow, you’re the only one who seems to be remotely concerned about the fact that you just participated in a spontaneous threesome with your boyfriend and his teammate. The one who just wrecked you, did things to you that probably insinuate him paying you fifty bucks unless you want to be having his freakishly green-eyed babies anytime soon.
"Well," you start, your voice coming out slightly hoarse from earlier activities. "I think it’s safe to say we’ve crossed a few professional boundaries."
Matthew chuckles, reaching down to help you to your feet. His touch is warm and comforting, but there’s a playful glint in his eyes that suggests he’s not quite done teasing you yet. “Boundaries? I don’t know what you’re talking about. We were just… welcoming him to the team.”
“Is that what they’re calling it these days?” you quip back, trying to regain some semblance of composure. But it’s hard when your legs are still wobbly and the room feels like it’s spinning just a bit.
Connor, ever the charmer, steps in closer, his hand brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “You know, if you guys are up for it, we could always arrange another… session.”
The heat rushes to your cheeks, and you know your face is probably flushed as red as a stop sign. It’s ridiculous how quickly they can have you flustered again, especially after everything that just happened.
Matthew laughs, and there’s something in his tone that’s both amused and fond. “Nice try, Dewey, but this is a one-time thing. That’s my girl.”
Connor lets out a similar chuckle, although he doesn’t believe him for a second. “Yeah, okay. whatever you say…”
