A/N: Hi all, Just a one-shot I found lying around my google docs folder. It was supposed to be a multi-chapter fic, but I don't think I have a direction for it right now. So I'm putting it up as an open-ended one shot because why not. There was a time where I was really into Adrian Pucey, this was something I was working on during that time. I hope you like it. The M rating is just for the beginning bit, it's not a long fic, but because the beginning is a bit detailed, I figured I should rate it as such.
peace, Love, and Slyther,
Gimi aka Jess
"This can't keep happening," The curly haired brunette moaned. The man under her and attached to her ear, blowing, sucking, licking in all the right places was making her head fuzzy. She ground her apex into his lap, feeling his appendage harden between her legs. At the twitch, her core spasmed in anticipation, and she felt herself grow even damper.
She heard him moan, holding onto her waist, he gyrated her hips over his clothes causing another delightful sound to come out of her mouth. Moving his mouth back to hers, he kissed her deeply before releasing her mouth. Looking into her deep brown eyes, he slowed his breathing, one hand still on her waist, fingers caressing her hip, the other on the side of her face, threaded through her hair.
"Tell me to stop Hermione," He begged her. He knew they were playing with fire, but she was the fire he needed. She was burning him from the inside out, and he was addicted to the pain. "Tell me to stop, to go home."
Hermione looked back at him, his blue eyes almost nonexistent; his pupils dilated to their full extent, to take in her in completely. Grinding her body into his lap again, she began to unbutton her mint green cardi, showing off the black top she wore underneath.
Adrian Pucey admired the black lace against her pale skin. The top was lace, with a purple sheath underlay. He dropped his head between the valley of her breasts, inhaling the sweet scent of her lavender honey soap and he knew he was doomed. Grabbing at the jumper on her shoulders, he roughly pulled it off of her, hearing a rip of fabric as his other hand tugged at the lacey top once the jumper was off. He had to free her of all these layers.
His clothes began to rip as well, Hermione just as eager to divest him of the wretched garments. Longing to feel the heat of bare skin, the hard planes of his body against her softer one. Being small was not a disadvantage, she was an active witch in a tiny package. She successfully ripped the vest off his body and had started trailing kisses down his chest, stopping at his nipple, sucking and biting the way she knew he would enjoy.
Groaning, he pulled on her curls, bringing her lips back to his. He knew how much she enjoyed the pain during their time together; the witch loved pain with her pleasure. Paddling her ass pink would elicit the sweetest mews from her dirty little mouth.
Perhaps it came from too much reading. Everyone assumed that Hermione Granger was just a know-it-all little bookworm, who didn't know how to let loose or have fun. Little did they know that she didn't just read scholarly books, but karma sutra, books on tantric sex, on pleasing your partner. The woman was well versed in what tongue movements would make your eyes roll back in your head so far; you may never see straight again.
"Oh for Merlin's saggy nut!" A new voice interrupted their fun, "Ades, can't you ever make it to her room?" Hermione's flatmate had come home. "I thought you two were broken up… again?" Hannah Abbott asked as her boyfriend turned around as to keep Hermione's dignity. Hermione looked down and saw she was topless and her black skirt was bunched at her middle.
Smoothing her skirt down, "We are," she smirked at Neville's back and grabbed Adrian's hand. They made to leave the room.
Over his shoulder, Adrian called out, "Thanks for ruining the moment Abbott. Nice seeing you, Longbottom." He slammed the door shut behind them and they continued with their ministrations before he headed home to his flat.
****************
"Pucey, what are you doing?" Marcus asked his longtime friend; Adrian was staring at the curly-haired witch from across the bar. His bed witch was out on another date with another boring wizard her friends had set her up with. Adrian smirked, he saw her eyes glaze over as the wizard in front of her started talking, she was bored out of her pretty little head.
Marcus glanced over in her direction and groaned, knowing it was another one of those nights. They would get home, Ades would go over to the little Gryff's flat and shag like rabbits, then he would come home and pine for the little witch he couldn't get out of his head. Not that he could blame him. Hermione Granger had grown up nicely since their time at Hogwarts. After the war, she was the first one to befriend any former Slytherin without issues. She and Marcus worked in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Marcus was a hit wizard; Hermione worked in the Improper Use of Magic division, specialising in accidental magic of muggleborn children.
They had gone on a few dates, enjoying each other's company, but found early on; they were not meant to be more than friends. Marcus had gone on to introduce Hermione to his flatmate, Adrian. They were hot and heavy for over two years but recently split.
"Ades!" Marcus smacked his friend on the back of his head. Spilling his mead, Adrian jumped off his stool as the liquid splashed onto the sticky floor.
Cursing slightly, Adrian pulled out his wand and syphoned off the stool and his shirt, sat down and raised his pint at the barman and punched his friend in the arm.
Marcus just snickered into his pint at the look on his friend's face and continued to drink his beverage.
"What was that for Flint?" Adrian growled out as he spied his little lion glance over with a smirk of amusement at his outburst before turning back to her date from planet yawn.
"I've been talking to you for five minutes," Marcus said, taking a drink from his pint, "For Salazar's sake, the bint at the end has been trying to catch your eye for twenty, and you can't keep your cock from trying to jump on Granger. You guys broke up, remember?"
Adrian glared at his oldest friend, "Of course I know that arsehole, I was there."
Marcus snickered, "Oh yeah? Then why did you come home this morning reeking of Hermione sex?"
Adrian narrowed his blue eyes, "How would you know what Hermione smells like during sex?"
Marcus snorted, "Just because I was hit in the nose with bluggers doesn't mean I can't smell. You dated and fucked her for over two years, in our flat, I know what she smells like." He grinned at his friend and took another gulp, "She smells mighty nice too, should bottle her scent and sell it as cologne, I'm sure there are plenty of wizards who wouldn't mind a piece of the Golden Girl on their sheets." Marcus ducked when Adrian took a swing, knowing his friend had a possessive streak in him.
With a chuckle, Marcus clapped Adrian on the back, "Only teasing, but seriously. Stop staring; it's getting bloody uncomfortable. You broke up with her, not the other way around; you need to stop messing with her head."
"It's not me; she keeps calling me." Adrian hissed. He glanced at the couple once more as Hermione stood to use the toilet, "She calls me, and I can't say no."
Marcus called over the barmaid for another, "You didn't have a problem saying no when you broke her heart, what is different now?"
"I miss her," Adrian said simply, "I shouldn't have ended it."
Marcus snorted, "Yeah, I'm sure Sarah Selwyn would have loved that. Oh and not to mention Hermione, she would have enjoyed sharing you with your betrothed."
Adrian winced, "Stop saying that, it isn't going to happen."
"Ades, the wedding is in a week," Marcus pointed out, "You've already postponed it three times, you are getting married. I'm telling you as your friend, leave Hermione alone."
Adrian nodded, finishing off his pint and smashing the glass on the bar, "Bloody hell, I need something stronger." He waved down the barmaid and ordered a firewhisky, taking a swig as he watched the woman he loved, walk back to the world's most boring wizard.
"Bloody fucking betrothals," He grumbled into his whisky, "Bloody fucking bonds."
"Ere, ere," Marcus agreed, feeling for his friend. Sometimes coming from an old wizarding family had its downfalls; not being in charge of your own life happened to be one of them. Adrian would lose the one person he loved because of a bond formed before he was born, that was the tradition.
