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A cool chill runs down her spine. Her skirt is short, and fishnets display her arse. It was risky to walk this way at night, especially after a night at the pub, but she was damned sure she would get herself home.
“Granger!” A man called behind her, a deep and mellow sound into the cool night. The thickness of whiskey and his presence impeded the pub, a lasting effect from the war and the mark that plagues his arm.
Hermione whips around, raising a brow at him, “Get off on following women home, Nott?”
“Only women as dazzling as you, Granger,” He winks at her, holding her clutch just slightly above her, a taunt of his height.
Scoffing, she rolls her eyes at him, reaching to pluck her purse from him, and rising to her tiptoes. “Theodore, do not try to compliment me when your companion sat there, shooting daggers at me while you poked fun at my costume.”
”Oops?” The wizard shrugs lazily, a smirk playing on his lips. “It's blinding cold, and you’re not properly dressed for the weather.”
Hermione scoffs, tucking the small purse under her arm and rounding the corner where only a small pumpkin patch could be seen through the small flicker of candlelight in the distance, “Resorting to slut shaming is a new low for you, Theo.”
“It’s not slut shaming when you're wearing the smallest skirt known to wizardkind with a top like that,” A cold voice cut in, making the cold night frigid.
Hermione trudged her way into the muddy patch, stopping dead in her tracks at his remark, glaring at those taunting grey eyes, the ones that always managed to lure her in. “What gives you the damned right to tell a woman what she can and cannot wear, Draco Malfoy?”
The wizard is wearing a night costume, simply adorned with red accents. He smirks at her, daring a step into the muddy pumpkin patch towards her, “I can tell the women I fuck what they can and cannot wear, Granger. The women I call pretty girls while they milk my cock are good girls.”
She opens her mouth and then closes it, a red hot blush pricking the tip of her ears. A fleeting glance sent to Theo, as she almost wills the ground to swallow her up whole and turn her into a dead plant in the early November. Yet, her thighs rub together, remembering their long night together with her slick coating the thin gusset of her thong, a bold choice. “I haven’t a clue what you are saying to me.”
“Oh, but you do.” Draco winks at her, daring to cup her face and run the cool metal of the Malfoy signet ring against her face.
An empty threat of sorts that causes a shiver to run down her spine. Biting her lip, she shakes her head at Theo over his shoulder, a display of faux innocence. “Not. A. Clue.” She bites out at him, her pearly teeth showing through her bright red lips.
His thumb travels to her lip, smearing the red paint on her lips. A taunting smile claims those ever so dazzling eyes, as he looks behind him, his Adam’s apple bobbing before he speaks to the man behind him. “She likes the cool metal of my ring against her clit when my hands make her slutty cunt weep. Such a pretty fucking sight.”
A hot blush rushes to her face, and she hangs her head in humiliation. Having not to look at Theo would be better than the awkward eye contact they would make. There was no reason to try to deny it. “I am a grown woman, and yes, I have needs that I have satisfied using a rather unfortunate bloke, but can we stop talking about this!?”
Draco laughs, a deep melodic sound that would sound really nice as the strum in her bones, “I know you have needs, but you sing like a bloody bird for me every time this little crest is against your clit. The cool metal must feel amazing against your needy cunt, but you like my tongue better, gripping my hair as you beg me to go faster.”
Her thighs clench, and she sucks in a breath. Her knickers are ruined, and she needs to get home soon, so she does not end up giving into the git and riding him to completion in this bloody pumpkin patch.
Draco leans in, placing a kiss on the shell of her ear while she stays rooted in between her mushy-brained arousal and embarrassment, “Just let me have one taste. All you do is crowd my thoughts, and I yield. I will kneel before you if you so allow me.”
This hot and cold arsehole! “Stop making a scene to humiliate me in front of your mate, you twit!” She yells at him, pounding in his chest while his pupils consume the whole of his irises.
“Look at him, Granger. I’m not embarrassing you. I am simply fulfilling a fantasy of yours, you silly witch.” He smirks at her, enduring each pound of his chest.
Her eyes shoot behind him, making contact with Theo’s eyes blown wide as he breathes heavily.
“Show Theo what we’ve been practicing in our sessions, Granger. Let him have a taste of your pretty pink cunt.” Draco grasps her hand, leaning down to whisper in her ear, just loud enough that Theo and she can hear.
Her cheeks paint a deep red now, scoffing at him, “You told someone what I told you in a safe space, in utter confidence? This is fucking humiliating, Draco.”
“My gods, witch. Theo’s hard-on is poking me in the arse, and my cock fucking hurts from how long I’ve kept it confined in these bloody trousers. So, it is not humiliating to us. It’s fucking phenomenal that you share our desires, Hermione.” He wipes the angry tear rolling down her face, placing a soft, chaste kiss on her cheek. “If you are not inclined and think it’s been all mogged, then we will take our leave after returning you to your residence.”
“You both want to fuck me?” There’s skepticism in her tone, almost unsure of her once unwavering confidence.
Theo nods like there’s a spring hex on his head, and Draco simply smirks at her with those grey eyes dazzling in the moonlight. “More than words can fucking describe.”
Taking a deep breath, she steadies herself, cheeks heated for an entirely different reason now. Leaning up on her tiptoes, she mutters between the men, “You will just be a spectator, a fool meant simply to watch while your best mate gets on his knees for me. Then we shall both feel embarrassed. You in the way that Theo feels better, and I will rejoice in this, your misery.”
The tall blonde smirks, releasing his grasp from her, a warmth that she knows all too well and unfortunately misses. Now, the soft eyes of Theo fill her vision, though they are a bit steeled, in anticipation, in excitement. She feels it too.
The energy had shifted, yet he hadn’t dared to cross the line of touching her, let alone leaning in for a kiss. His eyes flickered with want, betraying the piece of information she needed. He wanted permission.
She reached up, crossing her arms around his neck, placing a sweet kiss on his lips. They're soft and welcoming and warm, pillowy as she slides her tongue into his parted lips. Her hands curl into his hair, managing between the kisses, “Please fucking touch me, Theo. I need your hands all over me.”
His mouth wanders, nipping at her neck and leaving faint lovebites in his wake. A simple slicing hex cuts her shirt into numberless pieces, exposing her pert, pink nipples to him, adorned with metal bars through each.
“Fucking hell,” He mutters to himself, palming both of her tips, the cold contact sending a jolt of electricity through the metal bars and down her spine. “Fucking gorgeous.”
Hermione moans at the attention on her tit, his mouth swirling against the metal, “Fuck, Theo, please touch me. I need your hands on me.”
“My hands are on you,” He retorts, bright eyes gleaming in mischief.
For the first time tonight, Hermione dares a look into the street where they can see patrons exiting the back entrance of the bar, not too far away. An audience adjacent. It feels filthy yet so correct in their hands.
A soft smack sounds in the dead pumpkin patch then another. Theo pushes her to her knees, arse up to lie more effective swats. His cock had been freed from his trousers somewhere in their passion.
Her eyes glint with tears, her knees shoved into the mud, and her backside stinging from each slap of Theo’s large hand. The glower of the lit-up carved pumpkin teases her from the step, staring at them as if to taunt her. Almost to say, “I know what you did.” In the front garden of a home, near a street where drunken patrons passed by, Hermione Granger was enjoying getting fucked like a dirty little whore by two men, and that fucking entity that haunted that pumpkin knew it.
“Fuck, you look so good, Granger,” Theo ground out fisting his cock, groaning when he stroked himself a few times. His cock wept, beading precum at the tip.
Hermione wiggles her arse at him, earning another smack of his large, ringed hand. Suddenly, she is picked up, and Theo’s cock is disappearing inside of her inch by inch while she fully seats herself on his cock. “You feel so fucking good.”
Her hips match his rhythm, eye contact heavy with Draco as he strokes his cock, precum beading on his tip. “Am I out of timeout yet, Granger? Or are you still cross with me?”
“I-I’m still cross wi-with you,” Hermione pants, digging her nails into his shoulder. “But, I really want to feel both, mm, feel you and Theo together.”
Draco smirks, replacing Theo’s fingers circling her clit, “Miss me that much?”
She scoffs, “You wish- mmmm, that feels good.”
Theo’s hand palms her tit, pulling in the metal of her piercing. Then, Draco works a digit into her, and the stretch is fucking divine. “Look at you, taking my fingers like a greedy whore.”
“S’good. Feels s’good.” Her hips ground into his hand, hips arching, “Gonna- fuck!”
As she falls, Draco replaces his fingers with his cock, watching her cringe turn to pleasure, fire licking up his spine. He’s gentle, inching in until he feels the resistance and applying a lubricant charm despite how she was utterly soaking their cocks. “You okay?”
“Perfect.” She squeezed her eyes shut, relishing in the fullness the men allowed her to feel. “Just full. Please fucking move.”
Theo chuckled, rocking her hips while he offered a little thrust. “Good, love?”
“Harder, faster, fucking something!”
Draco smirked and thrust into her with a particularly deep thrust that had her fucking whimpering. Theo followed him, fucking her in tandem with his best mate. Draco’s slick cock against him just lulled him in, begging to get more from him, a delicious friction that made him want this to be his regular. “Your pretty pussy makes me wanna come in you, get you pregnant, fucking trap you with me.”
Her cunt clenched around them, crying out into the chilly October night.
“You fucking like that, don’t you? Want a one-night stand to baby trap you, so you’ll have to give him that greedy snatch anytime he wants, you fucking whore?” Theo’s hips snapped with vigor.
“Please! I want to be a mum, making me a fucking mum, Theo!” Hermione cried out.
“Sing for us, Granger. Tell the whole fucking pub how much you love two cocks in your pretty little cunt.” His thrusts grow choppy while his fingers pay her to release.
Arching her back, hips rocking into his, she cries out, “I fucking love getting fucked by two men!”
“I’m gonna come in your pretty pink pussy, fill you until you’re swollen and with our children,” Theo mutters in her ear, a small yet dangerous promise. “Make us fathers, Draco, come in our girls filthy cunt, breed her.”
Draco crushes into her with one last bruise thrust, fingers still plucking her sensitive bundle of nerves as his hot seed slides against Theo’s cock.
Theo thrust one last deep stroke, hitting the spot in her to have her orgasm again, overstimulated with their combined come dropping from her stretched pussy.
Unable to talk, she lay limp from being used against Draco, that same pumpkin glaring at her whilst the boys argued lowly about whose flat had a bigger bed.
“You’ve done so good, gorgeous. We’re going to get you home and in a nice bath, mkay?” Theo places a soft kiss on her shoulder. He pulls out of her, brushing her face ever so softly, feeling the wince.
Hermione nods against Draco, yawning as she snuggles into their warmth. “Okay, dress me.”
With the help of magic, her shirt is repaired and her legs are wrapped around Draco’s waist, simply because Theo lost at rock, paper, scissors. Off in the abyss, she swears she sees the same carved pumpkin in the window wink at her.