You knew you were doomed when a paper bird landed neatly on your bed that night.

My dorm. Now.

Your heart sank.

You hurriedly grabbed the nearest bra you could find and pulled it on before heading out.

You had assumed Draco would be alone.

But when you pushed open the door to his dormitory, you stopped short.

Theo was there too.

He sat cross-legged on the carpet across from Draco, loosely hugging his knees. A bottle rested between them.

Theo looked up first, a sly smile curling across his face.

Your stomach twisted. I’m screwed.

“Come here, sweets,” Draco said, patting his lap.

You hesitated in the doorway.

“Draco—”

“Come.”

The quiet command left little room for argument.

You crossed the room slowly and sat down on his lap. His hands slid around your thighs, steady and warm.

You tried to let the familiarity comfort you. To wrap yourself with his frame and scent that you always felt protected you.

Tonight it only made your nerves worse.

Theo watched the two of you with open interest. Draco pressed his lips lightly against your neck as he spoke. It was a habit of his.

“Theo was just telling me about what you did in the library today.”

The room felt impossibly quiet. All you could hear was your heartbeat. The warmth of his breath against your nape made you shiver.

You shot Theo a glare.

“You swore.”

“I didn’t,” he said with an easy smirk, lifting the bottle and taking a lazy sip. “And you know where my loyalties lie, dollface.”

You shifted restlessly on Draco’s lap, suddenly feeling trapped.

Draco’s hands tightened slightly at your waist, lifting you just enough to settle you properly against him again.

“It's okay,” he murmured.

Then he took the bottle from Theo and tilted it toward you.

“Drink.” He felt uncharacteristically quiet, like he was biting his tongue.

“We have classes early tomorrow.”

“Come on. We can’t be the only ones drinking.” Theo chuckled softly, his laugh had such a raspy quality.

You stayed silent, hoping the moment might pass. But, it didn't.

Draco took a swig. Then, he gently tilted your chin toward him.

Before you could protest, his mouth met yours—warm, firm—and he pressed the wine into your mouth with a slow tender kiss. It tasted so sweet coming from him.

When he pulled back, his grey eyes studied your face.

“You worry too much,” Draco murmured.

“See?” Theo said lazily.

Your heart had settled a little, Draco didn’t seem nearly as angry as you had feared. Maybe you were off the hook.

You’d been sitting on his lap for a while now, the warmth of him steady against your back as the three of you talked. The bottle passed lazily between you. What had started as cautious sips slowly turned into more than you meant to drink.

You were always a lightweight.

The wine made everything softer around the edges.

At some point your lips had loosened into easier smiles. Draco had pulled your hair free from its braid, combing through it gently. A faint warmth spread through your limbs, and you found yourself leaning back into him more comfortably than before.

The room swayed just slightly when you moved.

Draco tilted your chin again, offering you another kiss with wine.

You accepted it easily, expecting the same brief press of lips.

But this time it lingered.

His purple-stained mouth stayed against yours, slow and deliberate. You felt his tongue slip into the kiss before you had time to react.

The taste of wine lingered between you.

When you finally pulled back, a little breathless, you frowned slightly.

“Draco, you’ve had too much.” Your voice came out softer than you intended.

Instead of answering, his hand tightened at your waist, anchoring you against him. His lips brushed along your jaw, then drifted down to the side of your neck.

“Theo's—” Your protest faded into a quiet exhale as he ran his tongue up the curve of your shoulder.

Across from you, Theo watched.

He hadn’t moved from his spot on the floor, leaning back on his hands now. His dark eyes followed the two of you with amusement.

The awareness of it made heat creep up your neck.

You dropped your gaze quickly, staring down at your lap instead.

You didn’t want him to see the expressions crossing your face. Not the way your breath caught. Not the way your fingers tightened on Draco’s sleeve.

Behind you, Draco seemed entirely unconcerned with the audience.

“Draco, please,” you murmured, your cheeks warming.

“Hm?”

His voice was absentminded, distracted.

You felt his fingers slip to the buttons of your shirt while his lips brushed against the edge of your ear. He nipped lightly, knowing exactly how sensitive that spot was. You arched instinctively against him.

Between the warmth of the wine and the haze settling over your thoughts, you barely noticed what his hand was doing. One button, then another—his fingers working with effortless familiarity.

By the time you realized, your shirt had fallen open.

“Oh,” Theo’s voice cut in, amused. “Actually wearing a bra this time."

You blinked slowly, his voice seemed so hazy, so far away.

“It was an accident,” you murmured, more to yourself.

You knew you were a lost cause the moment you felt Draco grow firm beneath you—his familiar hardness pressing up through the fabric.

You could feel it clearly where you sat, the shape of him nudging against the sensitive spot of your clit. A soft, helpless mewl slipped from your throat as your body reacted before your mind could catch up.

You rocked instinctively, it always made you so weak.

Grinding against the bulge in his trousers, the rough drag of his zipper through the fabric sent sparks through you. The friction alone felt like it could push you over the edge. You were so drunk, so wrapped up in the sensation, that you’d completely forgotten Theo was even there.

Your head fell back against Draco’s shoulder, breath hitching as you mewled, “Oh, Draco…”

“You've such a good girl" Theo drawled quietly, that you couldn't hear him through the haze. Couldn't see he'd been palming the plump cock under his pants.

Draco's hands guided your hips, rocking you slowly back and forth, grinding you harder on top of him. He knew exactly how this could undo you, how easily the motion could push you right to the edge. You could hear your slick.

Your legs parted wide when Draco shifted beneath you, his thighs spreading yours further. Heat rushed to your face when you felt his hand slide up your skirt, lifting the fabric.

A moment later, your underwear was tugged aside. You were so sensitive, you shivered when air hit your cunt.

“What do you think, Theo?” Draco asked softly.

“Fuck… it’s so wet and puffy.” Theo leaned closer, brushing his fingers against your folds, voice low with astonishment.

“No, please…” you protested weakly, cheeks burning, grabbing at Draco's hand spreading you apart.

Draco’s breath brushed your ear as he held you steady. “Why don't you let him see, my coquine,” he coaxed. “Since you don't seem particularly concerned about modesty."

Draco’s hands began to tug your underwear down.

"Have a taste, Theo. She's so eager to please you."

Theo stepped closer, dropping to his knees between your legs. His eyes flicked up to yours, a crooked smile tugging at his mouth.

“Gods, I'll ruin you,” he murmured, voice low with amusement. You’d never been attracted to Theo, but seeing him like this—face flushed under you, he’d reminded you of Draco.

He pressed his tongue flat onto your cunt, glancing up through his long lashes to watch your reaction. Your breath caught, and you reached down to push away his head.

But then his tongue slipped inside you. His pert nose perfectly angled to bump against your clit. He’d always thought his nose could be the most perfect toy.

He kept fucking you with his tongue.

"Fuck," You breathed.

Behind you, Draco had already moved on to the next distraction. His fingers slipped behind your back, deftly unclasping your bra and easing it away. The moment the fabric loosened, his hand came down sharply against your right breast.

“Ow!”

“That,” Draco said coolly, “is for your insolence.”

Theo stuffed his thick fingers inside your cunt, pushing them deep inside you as his tongue focussed on your bud. He felt your walls compress impossibly around his fingers.

"You're really fucking tight." Swirl.

"I can barely put two in." Suck.

"How are you going to take me, baby?" Bite.

You whimpered softly, a sting of embarrassment. You’d always been on the smaller side. When you first started sleeping with Draco, he’d had to take his time with you—slowly easing you open, adding more fingers one by one until your body learned to take him.

He didn’t slow down—didn’t even seem to consider stopping. He wanted you to come.

"Just like that. Let go for me."

And you did.

"Oh—!" You whined as your back arched against Draco, your body tightening before the pleasure finally broke over you. You came with a soft cry, your fingers gripping Draco's as Theo held you there, determined to see you through every second of it.

"I always love that little noise she makes when she comes."

Only when the tension faded did he pull back slightly. He dragged his tongue in one slow, broad stripe, tasting what he’d drawn from you before finally lifting his head.

You rested your head against Draco’s chest, your body heavy with the lingering warmth of it all.

“We’re not done, my dear.”

His fingers lifted your chin slightly before he tapped your cheek with a light slap, brushing the damp strands of hair that clung to your skin away from your face. As if keeping you from passing out.

Theo pushed himself to his feet, unzipping his pants.

Everything felt hazy, like you were drifting through a dream. Nothing quite made sense anymore. Your thoughts were slow, all you could really feel was pleasure.

It felt like you'd just blinked, and suddenly you were lying on the bed, your head near the footboard. The boys had taken their clothes off.

You were faced with Theo's cock, unsheathed from his pants.

It was thick and flushed pink, veins tracing along the length of it. So hard it almost looked fragile in its tension, as if the slightest flick might snap it. Theo nudged the tip against your lips, smearing the bead of pre-cum slowly across them.

“Be rough with her, Theo. She ought to learn."

You knew the rumors. Theodore Nott wasn’t known for restraint. Of the boys, he'd had a tendency to be rougher, to leave lasting bruises and bites. He had a darker appetite, wanted sex to hurt.

You lolled your head to the side to look at Draco with a tinge of fear in your eyes. You were so used to Draco's—longer, slightly skinnier. The kind that deliciously bullied that spot. The one you'd sometimes see bulging through your belly. Your cunt quivered and pulsed at the thought of stretching around Theo.

Theo laughed softly, "You'll be good for me, won't you? Open up, pretty."

You tilted your head back and wrapped your hands around him. The weight and heat of him alone confirmed every rumour you’d heard. He felt heavy in your grip—daunting, he’d been made to overwhelm. You traced your tongue over the soft head in slow, testing strokes, letting the taste linger as you explored him.

In front of you, Draco had been sliding himself against your swollen lips, dragging his length through the slick warmth there. His thumb had gone pale from how firmly he pressed it against you as he rolled his hips forward. The wet sounds your body made and the heat of the friction drew a sharp hiss from him.

“You’re so slippery,” he muttered, breath uneven. “I can’t even get inside you. You love having us both at once, don’t you?”

Before you could react, he shifted you, lifting your ankle and settling it over his shoulder so he could angle you exactly the way he wanted. The movement was practiced, deliberate.

He drove into you in one deep, sudden thrust. No matter how many times you’d taken him, the length still managed to steal the breath from your lungs. He gave your clit an instinctive press with his thumb, as though he hadn’t meant to be quite so punishing.

The sound that escaped you was muffled as it vibrated around Theo, and he let out a quiet, pleased hum at the sensation. Taking the opportunity, he eased a few inches deeper, guiding you with a gentle hand as your lips stretched around him.

His fingers brushed along the line of your throat in quiet appreciation, feeling the subtle movement there. "Fuck, your mouth is squeezing me."

He began thrusting into your mouth with growing urgency, the pace turning almost feverish. You lifted your hands to his thighs, pushing lightly in an attempt to slow him, your eyes beginning to water from the intensity.

Theo barely seemed to notice, lost in the sensation, using your mouth with careless indulgence.

“Perfect little toy,” he murmured.

They moved together, settling into a rapid, punishing rhythm. The bedframe shuddered beneath you, creaking loudly with every movement.

They seemed lost in their own haze—breaths turning heavy, low groans slipping past their lips.

“Fuck… fuck… fuck."

It was too much in the best possible way—the kind of intensity that melted thought and turned every nerve into a live wire, leaving you suspended in a haze of bright, consuming pleasure.

You could almost picture it as some decadent Renaissance scene—two divinities, one nymph, tangled in appetite and excess. A bacchanal in miniature, where restraint had quietly disappeared.

All because of something so small—an accidental slip, a glance that lasted a beat too long.

You felt Draco thrusting steadily inside you, again and again. A pale, creamy ring had formed at the base where your bodies met, slick and warm. Every deep stroke hit that sensitive place that made your body seize around him.

You wished you could see his face. You always loved watching him when he fucked you—seeing the way he looked when he took you apart.

Above you, Theo was using your mouth freely, his thrusts pushing the head of his cock against the back of your throat. But it still wasn’t quite enough for him.

There was restraint in the way he held back. He didn’t want to finish like this.

Your hand slipped down between your legs, pressing at your clit in desperation, eager to push yourself over the edge.

Draco swatted your hand away.

“She’s enjoying herself too much,” Theo panted teasingly.

“Hold her still.”

Draco shifted back onto the bed as Theo stepped forward and caught your arms. You didn’t quite understand what they were planning until they began moving you.

Before you knew it, you had been guided between them.

Your cunt throbbed at the feeling of both of their tips brushing against you. Seeing them side by side made your thoughts blur into a dizzy haze. You knew you shouldn’t be this eager—but the sight alone made you wetter.

Theo’s hand slid between your thighs from behind, spreading your slick slowly. His body pressed firm against your back, one arm circling your waist.

You leaned forward, bracing yourself above Draco, your arms caging him beneath you.

“So wet,” Theo murmured behind you. “Good girl. You’re ready to take both.”

“Mmm…” you moaned softly.

Draco watched you with quiet indulgence. You knew it would be a strain, but the emptiness inside you felt unbearable—you just needed something there. You wanted to please them, to give them the reaction they were looking for.

Your cheeks flushed at yourself. Only minutes ago you’d been hesitant.

Draco lined himself up first. You arched into him instinctively as he slid inside you.

“Mmm… Draco. Love you.” You whispered.

You bit your lip as you looked down at him.

You weren’t sure why you said it then. Maybe it was your quiet way of reminding him—you still belonged to him. Even while you took another man's cock.

I’m filthy, but I’m all yours.

Draco answered by pulling you down into a deep kiss.

Behind you, Theo slid a finger inside you, testing how much room he had. He hissed quietly at the tightness.

“I’ll try to take it slow, doll.”

You felt the head of him press carefully at your entrance before beginning to ease inside. You groaned into Draco’s mouth.

The stretch was blinding—sharp and intense, that same mixture of pain and pleasure you remembered from the first time you’d ever been taken. Your body trembled as you felt yourself trying desperately to accommodate him.

“Just a little deeper, love,” Theo whispered, the pet name added gently to soothe you.

You pressed your forehead against Draco’s, panting as he pulled your waist closer. When he looked up at you, he saw the strain in your expression—and groaned softly at the new tightness surrounding him.

They both stilled for a moment once Theo was fully seated inside you, bodies pressed close as they caught their breath. You could feel the heat of them, the subtle pulse of their bodies where they were joined with yours. That living warmth made you shiver—you had always loved that feeling.

The pause was brief, just long enough for you to adjust. But it was clear neither of them could last much longer. Soon they began to move.

Theo was rougher than Draco, his thrusts sharper, pushing you forward each time so your body rocked above Draco. The movement quickly became overwhelming.

“Oh gods—it’s too much—!” you gasped.

Your thoughts scattered under the sensation. The pressure of them moving inside you in different rhythms, the deep stretch, the sound of skin against skin—it was unlike anything you had ever felt before. Each motion felt impossibly deep, sending waves of sensation through you.

Your hands found Draco’s instinctively, fingers threading together as if you needed something solid to hold onto.

“Look at you,” Draco murmured. “Taking us so well.”

You glanced down and noticed the faint rise of your stomach as they moved, the subtle shift beneath your skin with every thrust. Draco’s hand came to rest there, his touch almost gentle as he traced the curve.

Draco looked up at you, and your face told him everything. You were teetering on the edge of it all, barely holding yourself together. Your soft moans had faded into ragged breathing, your body trembling with the strain of it.

His hand slid down between your legs, thumb finding your clit in a steady, soothing motion, trying to ground you. My poor baby… let me help you, the gesture seemed to say, a quiet attempt to steady you.

But neither of them slowed.

Their rhythm grew messier, urgency creeping into every movement as they pushed closer to the edge. They were losing their careful coordination now, chasing the same overwhelming high. Theo leaned into you from behind, his hands around your hips bruising, his teeth grazing your neck before biting down.

“Oh—it’s too good,” he groaned against your skin. “You’re too good.”

You felt Draco come first. His body tensed beneath you, the subtle pulsing inside you giving him away before he even groaned. He spilled inside you, then softened and slowly pulled out, breath heavy.

The added thick creaminess only seemed to push Theo closer to the edge. Draco’s cum made it feel so divine, he always came so much you could feel it running down your thighs. Theo drew you upright against him, arms wrapping around yours to keep you steady as he thrusted upwards.

His pounding grew desperate, the slickness between your bodies making every movement easier, louder. Schlick, schlick, schlick.

It was all so filthy—your boyfriend's best friend shamelessly fucking his seed into you.

“Look at me,” Draco panted from below you.

His thumb found your clit again, rubbing carefully, helping you chase the last edge of your pleasure.

Behind you, Theo kept moving, his voice strained against your ear. “I’m gonna come,” he whispered, almost helplessly.

Your vision blurred, the room tilting as sensation overwhelmed you. Through the haze, you could just make out Draco’s lips forming the words again.

Just look at me. As if he needed you to remember that this had all begun with him, even while his best friend moved inside you. I’m the one making you come.

The release hit you all at once—bright and overwhelming, the kind of pleasure that left your body trembling as if you'd had some part of you die.

You slumped forward into Draco, your body trembling with the lingering aftershocks. Behind you, Theo pressed soft kisses along the curve of your back.

“Savour it, pretty,” he murmured. “Most perfect girl.”

He glanced down between you as he slowly pulled out. The cum pooled between your bodies.

With a quiet, almost absent motion, Theo pressed some of it back into you, as if claiming his own place inside.

That was the last sensation you'd felt before you passed out. You knew then this would not be the last time.

EARLIER

“Draco, you’ve really got to control your girl,” Theo said lightly, dropping into the seat across from him in the Great Hall.

Draco barely looked up from his plate. “What are you on about?”

Theo tilted his head, the faintest smirk pulling at his mouth. “She just showed me her tits in the library.”

Draco’s fork paused mid-air.

“I’m telling you,” Theo continued lazily, leaning back in his chair, “if it hadn’t been me, she probably wouldn’t have made it out of that library so easily.” His tone carried a sort of concern. “You really ought to keep her on a tighter leash.”

Draco finally looked up at him. “She thinks she can have the both of us?”

Theo’s smile widened slightly as he finished the thought for him.

He might make fun of you more often than usual simply because it gave him an excuse to get your attention. If you were not easily impressed by his family name, wealth, or status, it would frustrate him—but it would probably make him more interested in you as well. Draco is used to people either admiring him, fearing him, or reacting to the Malfoy name, so someone who remained unimpressed would be difficult for him to ignore.

He would likely try to impress you by mentioning his family connections, showing off his belongings, or drawing attention to the things he believed made him superior to everyone else. At the same time, he would probably watch you when he thought you were not looking and immediately turn away if you caught him doing it.

He would become jealous long before he admitted that he cared. If you seemed particularly close to someone else, especially someone he already disliked or considered beneath him, his reaction would probably be irritation rather than honesty. He might insult them, question your judgement, or suddenly find reasons why they were not worth your time.

If you defended someone Draco looked down on, he could react in a surprisingly personal way. To him, it might feel as though you were choosing them over him, even if that was not what you intended at all.

Draco would also be very conscious of whether you were considered “suitable” according to his family’s standards. If you came from a family the Malfoys respected, he would probably be much more comfortable allowing himself to pursue you openly. If you were Muggle-born, or came from a family his parents disapproved of, liking you would not immediately make his prejudices disappear.

He could experience genuine conflict between what he felt and what he had been taught, but that conflict would not automatically make him kinder or more accepting. He might resent you for making him question things he had previously considered certain. Any real change would have to happen gradually and through his own choices, rather than simply because he had fallen for someone.

If you rejected him, he would probably not handle it gracefully. Draco is extremely sensitive to humiliation, and being turned down would feel like both a personal rejection and a blow to his pride.

Outwardly, he might pretend that he had never been serious about you in the first place. He could become cold, dismissive, or openly spiteful, particularly if other people knew what had happened. Rather than admitting that you had hurt him, he would be far more likely to behave as though you were the one who had embarrassed yourself by rejecting him.

That would not necessarily mean his feelings had disappeared. It would mean that protecting his pride had become more important than allowing you to see that he cared.

When you’re dating

Draco, especially while he was still young and at Hogwarts, would probably be a difficult boyfriend.

He could be possessive, easily offended, competitive, and highly concerned with how your relationship appeared to other people. He would likely want everyone to know that you were with him, particularly if he believed other boys were interested in you.

If he held your hand in public or kept an arm around you, it would partly be because he genuinely wanted to be close to you and partly because he wanted to make your relationship obvious. Draco would enjoy the feeling of being chosen, especially in front of other people.

He would probably be bad at apologising. Even when he knew he had behaved unfairly, admitting that he was wrong would feel humiliating to him. He might attempt to make peace indirectly instead, perhaps by bringing you something, sitting beside you as though the argument had ended, or doing something helpful without acknowledging why.

Draco grew up in a wealthy family where affection and approval were often connected to status, achievement, and appearances. Because of that, he might find it easier to buy you an expensive gift than to have an honest conversation about his feelings. He would know how to give you something impressive, but he would not necessarily know how to explain why he had been hurt.

If someone insulted or embarrassed you, Draco would defend you, but probably not in a particularly mature or peaceful way. Rather than simply comforting you or telling the person to stop, he would be more likely to humiliate them in return. His instinct would be to establish that nobody was allowed to treat someone connected to him that way.

That protectiveness could feel reassuring, but it could also become controlling. Draco might believe that caring about you gave him the right to interfere in your friendships, question the people you spent time with, or decide who was and was not worthy of your attention.

Privately, however, he would probably be far more insecure than he appeared in public. He depends heavily on external approval, particularly from his family, and much of his arrogance is tied to the identity he has been given. Being genuinely known by someone would therefore be both appealing and frightening to him.

Any softer side of Draco would appear gradually and almost entirely in private. He might become quieter when the two of you were alone, seek out your company without needing to perform for anyone, or allow himself to sit closer to you than he usually would.

He could lean against you when he was tired or rest his head on your shoulder when nobody else was around. But if you smiled too knowingly or pointed out that he was being affectionate, he would probably pull away and make a dry comment to restore some of his dignity.

His affection would often be mixed with pride. He might act as though giving you his attention was a privilege, even while arranging his entire day around the possibility of seeing you. He could complain about waiting for you and then continue waiting anyway.

A relationship with Draco would require patience, but patience alone would not be enough to change him. Loving him would not automatically remove his prejudices, insecurity, selfishness, or fear of disappointing his family. He would have to recognise those things himself and make the decision to become better.

An older and more mature Draco, particularly after the war, could become considerably more thoughtful and considerate. Experiencing the consequences of his family’s beliefs would likely make him quieter, more cautious, and less certain of his own superiority.

Even then, he would probably remain reserved, proud, and uncomfortable with emotional vulnerability. He might become a better partner, but he would never turn into someone who constantly expressed his feelings through dramatic declarations or effortless romantic speeches.

His love would be shown in smaller, more restrained ways: remembering what you preferred, making sure you had what you needed, choosing to remain beside you, and allowing you to see the parts of himself he worked hardest to hide from everyone else.