including : Draco Malfoy , Mattheo Riddle , Theodore nott, Blaise zabini, Lorenzo Berkshire , Tom riddle , Adrian pucey
DRACO MALFOY
masquerade ball @lqveharrington
The Malfoys hold a masquerade ball in hopes of finding Draco a wife
prince!draco malfoy x lady!potter!reader
library meeting @comfortcharacterwrites
after Lucius Malfoy finds out that his son had been failing Charms, he assigns a tutor to Draco, whom he inherently dreads meeting — that is, until he falls in love with you
word count : 3.3k
the space between reality and you @honeyedprongs
A girl who lives her life in her head.
A boy who refuses to let her disappear into it.
Longing, self-destruction, and the terrifying reality of being loved back.
word count : 1.9k
unanswered questions in closed spaces @noncakeanywhere
As it turns out, proximity breeds fondness. A month of detention with you in a small space; rat tails and rotten weeds for company. What better witnesses for a disastrous fall into...what exactly?
Draco Malfoy x Slytherin!Reader
gone in a flash @ros3mari3
You don’t hear it all at once. It comes in fragments, in passing whispers that you almost ignore until one name pulls everything into focus.
Draco x Reader (amnesia/angst)
fever dreams and devotion @honeyedprongs
One sleepless winter night.
One clingy, feverish husband.
And several increasingly pathetic requests for “just one more kiss.”
word count : 1.5k
hopelessly devoted to you @irisjustlikeheaven
draco's parents are against your relation ship. he does what they say, you have to accept his decision.
draco malfoy × fem!reader
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MATTHEO RIDDLE
why’d you only call me when you’re high @faestria
you're sick of mattheo's affection being limited to when he's high.
word count : 986
words are futile devices @l8vrgrll
It has been a long time since mattheo left hogwarts. All he could think about now, was you, and it was killing him.
you were supposed to stay @simplyastra
In a world falling apart, you were the only thing that ever made sense to Mattheo Riddle. So when he almost loses you— he breaks in a way no one has ever seen before.
absolutely not @riddlemelater
beater!Mattheo helps you pick a dress for a night out in hogsmeade with the quidditch team. The only problem is he's not much help, especially not when your dress is that short.
word count : 1.2k
what hurts you hurts me @simplyastra
Soulmates shared everything. Including scars. When Umbridge's detentions begin exposing soulmate pairs throughout Hogwarts, one bloody sentence on the back of your hand changes everything.
personal fav
obedience @my-hearts-kickdrum-type-beat
Your boyfriend loves you. His friends think he worships you. You're alright with both interpretations.
word count : 0.6k
who is who ? @edilzzi
You have an enormous crush on Mattheo Riddle. Although, you're way too busy pushing your nose into books and being an angel for such a popular guy to look your way. That never stopped you though, your little 'harmless' ways to stalk him around hogwarts has gotten way more ridiculous than ever, as if your eyes lingering on him for way too long wasn't enough. But as time passes by, you slowly notice his figure disappearing within your sight. That's when you realize.. With how frequent you observe his presence in front of you, you never acknowledged watching behind you.
Word count : 4.4k
SMUT / MDNI
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THEODORE NOTT
library of secrets @harringtonsb1tch
when you decide to surprise your boyfriend by learning Italian behind his back but losing the track of time leads to him finding out earlier than you wanted.
her favorite slytherin @simplyastra
A black cat starts spending every evening in the Slytherin common room. The entire school assumes she's Theodore's. Theodore assumes she's his. The cat disagrees.
personal fav
sweet like cinnamon @ldrfanatic
is it possible that the entire time you've been dating theo, you've somehow not noticed that he's only this sweet with you?
theodore nott x hufflepuff!reader
word count : 3.1k
the nott so fake relationship @cipheress-to-k-pop
After your boyfriend cheats with your best friend, you enlist Theodore Nott in a fake relationship to get revenge
word count : 10.1k
quidditch captain rivalry headcanons @padmespetal
theodore nott x ravenclaw!reader
puppy love @eviesnotebook
Theo is completely, utterly, hopelessly in love with you but you think he's just a friend. A really nice one.
theodore nott x fem!reader
word count : 1.7k
divination for dummies @obsessedwithceleste
When the tarot cards tell you you’re going to fall in love, sometimes it’s best to just listen to them
Theodore Nott x Ravenclaw! reader
word count : 6k
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BLAISE ZABINI
too long together @simplyastra
Three hours trapped in a dusty storage room with Blaise Zabini wasn't how you planned to spend your evening. Surprisingly, it wasn't how you wanted it to end either.
beautiful chaos @simplyastra
Blaise Zabini liked things neat, orderly, and predictable. Unfortunately for him, you collected flowers, carried emergency glitter, and had approximately seventeen hobbies at any given time.
Blaise x chaotic!reader
No more tears @lexamiele
after you catch your boyfriend cheating, his worst enemy finds you crying in an empty classroom.
word count : 4.7k
don’t get it twisted @obsessedwithceleste
4 times you prove you’re a true Slytherin + the 1 time Blaise finally accepts it.
Word count : 3.4k
Eternity @ravenclaws-stuff
Blaise Zabini x muggleborn!reader
on the first day of christmas @rarebambi
tooth rotting fluff
word count : 397
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LORENZO BERKSHIRE
irresistible @cipheress-to-k-pop
Lorenzo doesn't like it when people other than him receive pretty privilege. Hypocrite.
Word count : 14.4k
Berkshire blue @redeemingvillains
you and lorenzo are...exclusive... or so you thought... but as the days before the berkshire winter ball dwindle and he deftly avoids asking you to be his date, you're left wondering what you really mean to each other.
Word count : 3k
untitled @lxve-fool
the quiet girl seems to only despise enzo and he’s determined to figure out why
lorenzo berkshire x shy!reader
in touch, but out of reach @obsessedwithceleste
When a secret admirer sends you a mysterious parcel at breakfast, you figure you shouldn’t let the pretty locket enclosed inside go to waste.
Lorenzo Berkshire x Ravenclaw! reader
word count : 5.4k
you said it didn’t mean anything @speaknowgirl3184
secret kiss in the library turns into weeks of stolen moments. Except you overhear him telling Blaise it was “nothing.”
word count : 4k
finding sunshine @obsessedwithceleste
soulmate! au in which the writing on your skin will appear identically on your soulmate.
word count : 4.5k
game of deception @ellas-enchantments
After finding out you were just a bet, an unexpected hero comes to your rescue. But why would this near stranger be so kind to you? What secret is he hiding? And when it comes to love, can you roll the dice without falling for his charm?
word count : 4.7k
strictly casual @kinzis-writing
It was common knowledge to everyone that Lorenzo Berkshire, or any of the Slytherin boys really, didn’t commit to one girl for long. They were womanizers and refused to try to commit to an actual relationship. You two didn’t get along at all; yet you still ended up in his bed. Only one condition, no feelings, no-strings-attached, and never call it a relationship. Everything was going smoothly… until it wasn’t.
word count : 11.4k
Lorenzo Berkshire x Fem! Hufflepuff! Reader
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TOM RIDDLE
You’ve gone soft @anawritez-posts
A teenage Tom Riddle time-travels into his future and immediately insults his older self..
cinnamon afternoon @yourstarryswan
Hitting a brick wall in potions class is tough for y/n who tries her hardest to keep her grades up. Lucky she got assigned a tutor..
what he notices @tomriddlehyper
Tom Riddle notices many things, but recently, all he can notice is the Hufflepuff girl that has wormed her way into his life.
mdni
obsessively adored @tomriddlehyperfixataion
The knights of Walpurgis were a secret group within the halls of hogwarts, made up of pureblood heirs and 2nd born sons, all dreaming of a 'brighter' future for their kind. their leader? Tom Riddle, refined cruelty in a human body. nothing mattered more than his goals. except for one, his beloved (y/n). who had the ability to make Tom Riddle stop in his tracks and abandon everything for her.
________
ADRIAN PUCEY
in a league of your own @obsessedwithceleste
When it comes out that Saint Potter is cheating on you with none other than Ginerva Weasley, your brother is pissed, and Adrian is there to pick up all the pieces.
Adrian Pucey x Slytherin! Wood! reader
word count : 3.8k
wish you were sober @my-hearts-kickdrum-type-beat
After the swiftest and smuggest victory in Hogwarts quidditch history, the Slytherins held their usual party. Blared music, flowing drinks, the works. The sweetest words come out when alcohol goes in; but are they ever true?
Adrian Pucey x Malfoy! Reader
word count : 3.2k
Before and after @limerenze
adrian comforts y/n during + after a panic attack while they both deal with the aftermath of the second wizarding war
Summary: When it comes out that Saint Potter is cheating on you with none other than Ginerva Weasley, your brother is pissed, and Adrian is there to pick up all the pieces.
Warnings: mentions of cheating, ooc golden trio, Ron and Harry bashing
The halls are alive and buzzing as you storm your way up to Gryffindor tower. You don't know what's worse—the occasional pitying looks being sent your way, or the self-satisfied sneers of students who had apparently been praying on your downfall.
You weren't sure yet if the rumors were true, but any kind of gossip surrounding Harry Potter tended to spread across the school like wildfire. And right now, word on the street was that Harry had been cheating on you with Ginerva bloody Weasley. That ankle biter had been chasing after him for years, and you were about to find out if she'd finally sunk her claws into your boyfriend. Or, very possibly, your ex.
Heads turn as the Fat Lady's portrait door swings open violently and you march through, sharp eyes searching for that familiar mop of black hair.
"Oi! How'd they get in here?" The voice of Seamus Finnigan calls out, confusion laced in his voice.
You roll your eyes as you continue to scan the crowd of faces occupying the Gryffindor common room.
"My brother is the captain of your god-awful quidditch team," you reply snarkily, growing more and more agitated by the distinct lack of lightning bolt scars and wire rimmed glasses.
If he was going to cheat on you, he should at least have the nerve to tell you to your face. He was supposed to be a bloody Gryffindor for heaven's sake. Your eyes finally land on Hermione Granger, who looks as if she wants to sink into the sofa she's perched on. Her eyes meet yours.
"It's really none of my business, y/n. But you don't have to do this and kick up a fuss," she sighs.
"Of course they do. See, this is exactly why Harry is done with them. There's always some big spectacle when they're involved," Ron's voice carries loudly across the common room as he makes his way down the banister. "Besides. They're a Slytherin. Harry never should have given them a second glance anyway."
You feel your lip curl at your, now confirmed, ex's friend. Those were some bold words coming from someone who'd been throwing up slugs not so long ago. Maybe he needed a reminder of what that was like. But no—you needed to be on your best behavior. So instead, you take a deep breath and turn to face the redhead full on.
"Ronald. I know she's your sister and all, so I'm trying very hard to see things from your perspective, but I just can't seem to get my head that far up my ass. Tell Harry we're done for me, would you, dear? I'm not wasting my time on someone who's too much of a coward to break things off properly."
The entire common room is silent and Weasley is looking significantly more red than usual as you see yourself out. You'd never been much of a fan of the lion's den anyway. Good riddance, honestly.
As soon as the portrait clicks shut behind you, you turn around to find yourself face to face with a figure that was all too familiar. His arms are crossed and he has a rather unamused look on his face.
"Hello, big brother," you chirp, face masking into a look of pure innocence.
Oliver sighs, shaking his head.
"The rumors are true then?" He asks, eyes full of concern.
You hated it when he looked at you like that.
"We're gonna kick your sorry asses on the pitch in two weeks," you reply confidently.
The concern stays, but hint of pride appears on your brother's face as a smile begins to grow.
"I'll look forward to the attempt." His eyes flicker to the portrait of the Fat Lady. "How bad is it in there?"
You blink up at him, bottom lip jutting out ever so slightly.
"I've no idea what you mean, Oliver. I've never done anything wrong in my life. I'm very reasonable."
Oliver looks down at you with disdain.
"Perhaps I'll study in the library for a bit."
"Capital idea, brother."
As soon as you step foot back into the dungeon, Pansy is on you, pulling you into a bone crushing hug.
"What do you want me to do to him? Eat slugs? Jelly bones? Finish what the Dark Lord started?"
You carefully extract yourself from your friend's arms, laughing at her usual antics.
"None of the above. We are going to handle this maturely. With grace," you reply.
Pansy raises an eyebrow scornfully.
"Gracefully like cursing out the weasel in front of his entire house?"
Your smile drops.
"That doesn't count. Weasley is an arse and had it coming."
Pansy lets out a snort.
"And what has Pucey had to say about all of this?"
"All of what?" You ask, eyebrows furrowing in confusion at the complete one eighty the conversation had taken.
Your friend sighs, shaking her head at you as if the answer is clear.
"The break up. Obviously."
"I don't know. I only just broke up with him, Pans. Through his friend no less. And I haven't even seen Adrian today."
Pansy lets out a sniff that you'd come to learn means she's displeased.
"I see. Well, do keep me updated."
Your eyes squint as you try to dissect the undertones in Pansy's comment, but before you can ask what on Earth she wants updates on, she spins on her heel and disappears into the corridor that leads back to the dorms.
The feeling of wind against your face as you race around the pitch on your broom always serves to melt away whatever tension you've worked up throughout the day. Everyone knew that Oliver's life revolved around quidditch and quidditch alone, and while the two of you definitely had your differences—namely being the fact that his house robes were an obnoxious shade of red and gold—an obsession with the sport seemed to run in the family.
You feel his presence beside you before you see him; slotting comfortably onto your right flank as if it were second nature.
"Pucey! Where have you been? Haven't seen you all day," you shout as the two of you complete another lap around the pitch.
"Heard about Saint Potter. Figured you'd want some space," he replies, that easy smile that you knew all too well flashing across his face.
He was right, of course. You'd always hated the feeling of being smothered by people who were overly nosy about your business. It had been a main point of contention throughout your year and a half relationship with Potter. That and the fact that Potter had despised how you remained so close to Adrian. But if he really thought you were going to pick him over your closest friend since first year, then the boy who lived was out of his damn mind.
"Duck."
Your body jolts forward, following Adrian's demand before his words fully have time to register, just as a bludger goes whizzing past the space where your head had just been.
"Distracted today, Wood? Forget about him. Potter was never good enough for you anyway."
A smile can't help but return to your face at your friend's words, but you don't get a chance to respond before he leans forward in challenge. He always knew exactly how to get you out of your own head. You match his position in the air and the two of you speed off, racing to the other end of the pitch as you dodge haphazardly around your teammates. When you reach the other side, your cheeks ache from how wide you're grinning.
"Oi! Get your arses over here and focus up, you two!" Flint shouts, magically amplifying his voice from across the field.
You turn to your friend, a wicked grin on your face.
"Beat you there."
"In your dreams, Wood."
When you finally land for the night, your whole body aches in the best way. Even when you're just running drills for a few hours, quidditch practice is still the highlight of your day. And honestly? The added eagerness to stomp Gryffindor—or more specifically their star seeker— into dust had done wonders for your concentration and utter persistence in the sky.
"Looking good out there," Adrian's voice rings out as he jogs to catch up with you.
"When do I not?" You tease, slipping into the easy banter the two of you had developed over the years.
You don't see it, but you can practically feel him rolling his eyes at you before giving you a playful nudge.
"You don't want to talk about it?" He asks after a moment.
The hesitation is clear in his voice and you appreciate the way he never pushes too hard. Always enough to get out what matters, but never crossing a line.
"Not even a little," you sigh, swinging your broom up to rest on your shoulder.
When you look up, you can see Adrian's mouth open, then close as he tries to find the right words and you laugh.
"You don't have to say anything. I know you never liked him much."
A tinge of red appears across Adrian's face at your blunt statement, but he doesn't deny it either as he avoids your eyes which only serves in sending you into another fit of giggles.
The moment is broken though when you see your brother making his way down to the pitch, followed closely by his whole gaggle of Gryffindors. Great. You try to divert away from them because you don't want to deal with whatever nonsense they're sure to bring, but unfortunately for you, Potter sees spots you before you can fully turn away.
"Oi, look who it is! You sure move fast don't you? Not exactly heartbroken, I see," Potter calls out.
Out of the corner of your eye you see your brother whip around, sharply gesturing for Harry to leave it be, but he's pointedly ignored.
"No, no, it's a tad bit hypocritical to call me out for cheating when you're hopping on Pucey's dick the same day, don't you think?" Harry continues.
"That's enough!" Oliver snaps, eyes shooting absolute daggers at Potter now.
You knew your brother would do just about anything to win a quidditch match, but insulting his baby sibling was putting Potter on some awfully thin ice.
"You know you really shouldn't use words you can't spell to toss around insults, Potter," Adrian responds dryly. "Leave us alone. You've done enough."
Watching the rest of the altercation is like watching a train wreck in slow motion.
"Oh shove it Pucey, don't try and get all high and mighty with me. You've been practically panting after y/n like a dog since we got together, don't think I didn't notice."
"That is completely untrue," you protest, but at the same time Adrian snaps.
"And so what if I have? You're still a cheater, and I've kept it to myself because I'm not a homewrecking—"
There's a sickening crack as Harry's fist collides with Adrian's face. You hear yourself cry out as Adrian stumbles back and you grasp onto his arm to keep him upright. Somewhere in the background two Gryffindors grab onto Harry, effectively restraining him as Oliver shouts something about a suspension for unsportsmanlike conduct. You're not really paying attention as you focus on the blood running down Adrian's face.
"Salazar's bloody ballsack, we need to get you to the hospital wing," you fuss, pulling him along.
Nothing else mattered in that moment. Not Harry who was shouting curses at your back, not your brother who was shouting right back at him, not your other teammates who had noticed the commotion and were now preparing to go to war for the two of you. All you knew was you needed to get Adrian to Madam Pomfrey.
As Madam Pomfrey frets over his broken nose, Adrian gazes out the windows of the hospital wing, weighing the pros and cons of throwing himself out of one of them. He didn't know how things had spiraled out of control so quickly. He hadn't meant to try and play knight in shining armor—he knew full well you could handle yourself just fine—but Potter, well, he'd never liked the guy. And not just because he'd worked up the courage to ask you out before Adrian himself had gotten the chance.
And now here he was, sitting in the hospital wing on the wrong side of Madam Pomfrey's wand as you pace anxiously back and forth at the foot of his bed.
"I don't know why you're so worried. I'm the one with the broken nose," he quips, trying to calm your nerves, though his voice comes out funny; probably a side effect of his nose being shattered and all.
Before you can respond, Pomfrey flicks her wand sharply sending a quick brackium emendo his way.
"Shit!" he exclaims, hands shooting up to clutch his face.
"Mr. Pucey! I will not have that kind of language in the hospital wing," Madam Pomfrey scolds, scowling down at him. "You," she snaps gesturing to you. "Keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn't run off."
With that, the old woman is whisked away to care for one of the many other students filling the hospital wing and you're left picking awkwardly at the rough fabric covering the hospital bed.
"Sorry you got caught in the cross fire," you sigh, finally looking up at him.
Adrian's heart clenches. If anything he should be the one apologizing to you. He's the one who had escalated things. And of course there was the other thing. The hippogriff in the room, one might say. But he'd gotten this far avoiding the topic, so he might as well keep digging. He shrugs his shoulders wordlessly.
He watches out of the corner of his eye as you take a seat next to his bed, elbow resting next to his as you lean against the frame.
"So. You don't want to talk about it?" you ask, mirroring his question from what already seemed like forever ago.
"Not even a little."
The two of you sit in silence and Adrien leans back on his cot, eyes closing as he lets out a breath. If he were being perfectly honest, he'd liked you since all the way back in second year. You'd been friends since first of course, but second year was when he had first truly admitted to himself that he might be falling for his best friend. He hadn't said anything then. You were both twelve at the time, what was there to say? Then he hadn't said anything third year either because, well, he was a Slytherin. He wasn't meant to be brave. In fourth year he finally thought he'd get his chance. At the very least he thought he'd get to take you to the Yuleball. But then you'd come bursting into the dungeon, practically glowing, because one of Hogwart's champions had asked you to the ball. Harry bloody Potter no less. And then the ball had become a date which had become a year and a half of Adrian watching from the sidelines as the boy who lived seemed to sweep you off your feet.
Of course he hadn't been surprised. Potter was exactly the type he'd always been afraid you'd end up with. Your older brother, Oliver, had been sorted into Gryffindor two years prior, so naturally it had come as quite the shock when you'd ended up in Slytherin. Adrian had always been a little afraid that his best friend had been placed in his house by mistake and it was only a matter of time before someone came to rescue you from the snake pit.
"I'm sorry I didn't say anything sooner. This isn't how I wanted you to find out. I was going to wait to say something. At least until everything settled down," he says finally, not quite ready to open his eyes.
He didn't want to see the look of disgust on your face. Or the way you'd probably recoil away from him. He'd been your best friend for years, and that's all he was meant to be.
To his surprise though, he feels your hand brush against his, carefully intertwining your fingers with his.
"I really like you too," you say quietly, but Adrian knew you too well to ignore the hesitation in your voice.
"But?"
"But I broke up with Harry less than twenty four hours ago and I don't think it's the best idea to dive head first into a new relationship that fast."
He must be hallucinating. Pomfrey must have mistakenly given him whatever the Hufflepuffs were growing in their private greenhouses because there was no way Adrian wasn't having a very vivid dream right now. He could have sworn you had just said you were interested in being in a relationship. With him.
Well, if this was in fact another one of his dreams, he might as well go all in.
"We can go at our own pace," he replies, voice much more steady than he felt in the moment.
He still hadn't opened his eyes, afraid that if he did, the dream would end and he'd be alone in the hospital wing. But he can feel you smiling next to him, just as he can feel your thumb tracing soft circles on the back of his hand.
"I'd like that a lot, actually," you reply.
The sky is perfectly overcast as you and Adrien make your way to the pitch with the rest of Slytherin's quidditch team. You'd all been training for weeks, and even with Gryffindor's star player benched, nerves were still running high. The back of your hand brushes against Adrian's with each step you take and you have to resist the urge to reach out and lace your fingers together.
The last couple weeks had been—blissful, perfect, easy? Adrian was so patient, but it hadn't taken you long to realize that the line between friendship and something more between the two of you, hadn't been that wide at all. The first time you had slipped your hand into his while walking down the corridor, you had physically felt the air leave both of your lungs. It had been such a casual thing, but after that it was as if a dam had broken. You knew that in the grand scheme of things, him wrapping an arm around you as you curled up next to him in the Slytherin common room, or his lips ghosting across the top of your head as he hugged you goodnight was next to nothing—but to you it felt like everything.
And it wasn't even just the fleeting touches that made you feel like your heart was on fire. It was the way you could practically read each other's minds, constantly anticipating every one of the other's needs. It was the years of friendship that made it so easy to just simply exist around one another with no awkward tension. And it was the way you really started to notice all the little ways Adrian truly seemed to care for you.
"What are the odds your brother goes easy on us today?" Adrian jokes, nudging you gently as he brings you out of your thoughts.
"Abysmal. The last time he lost a match, he tried to drown himself in the locker room showers," you reply dryly.
And people said you were the dramatic one.
Adrian just laughs as you both join the huddle of silver and green right as Marcus launches into his typical pre-game monologue. Ahh. Nothing says team spirit quite like your captain threatening everyone within an inch of their lives. Play well, or don't bother returning to the dungeons. He certainly knew how to make his team feel warm and fuzzy.
The team breaks and Zabini joins you and Adrian in mounting your brooms and getting into position as Madam Hooch prepares to release the snitch. As soon as the ball is released into play, you shoot up into the sky, snatching the quaffle right out from under one of Gryffindor's chasers. You and your teammates pass the quaffle back and forth with practiced ease until your brother appears in your line of sight, guarding the goals. You make first contact, feigning right with the quaffle before passing it to Adrian who sinks it effortlessly into Gryffindor's left hoop.
Your brother lets out a string of curses.
"Have to do better than that today, Ollie," you taunt, speeding by.
He'd always hated that nickname so it was on special reserve specifically for quidditch matches.
You continue to dodge and weave your way across the pitch, letting yourself get lost in the game. Each play comes to you like second nature, just like you'd been practicing for weeks. The match is long and grueling as you fight tirelessly for each goal. Your brother certainly wasn't letting anything easy slip past him again.
Just as you're sure a timeout is about to be called, the students in the stands let out a loud roar—cheering, screaming. That could only mean one thing. Your heads whips around wildly until your eyes land on Malfoy who's clearly spotted something. He's gaining speed, faster and faster and as he reaches out you see his fingers close around gold.
The stands erupt in cheers as you make your way to the ground. You'd done it. You'd won, and it hadn't even been close. People are screaming, shouting, and through all the chaos the only person you see is Adrian as he touches down several meters away from you.
You don't fully register your actions as you rush towards him, cheeks aching from the massive grin stretched across your face. Your arms wrap around his neck as he catches you in a bear hug, spinning you around before placing you carefully back onto the ground.
"We bloody won!" He shouts, eyes sparkling and smile matching your own.
You don't know what compels you to do it, but before you can talk yourself out of it, you reach up, tugging on Adrian's uniform and pulling him down towards you.
As soon as his lips touch yours, the rest of the world melts away and the only thing you can think about is how you want to be able to do this for the rest of your life.
You can tell Adrian is shocked by the way he freezes for a split second, hands gripping at your waist before slowly responding—soft lips moving like velvet against yours. You never want it to end.
A loud holler from up in the stands breaks the two of your apart however and you look up to see Pansy grinning down at the two of you.
"I do so love being right," she calls out, grinning like a madwoman. "Now where's your brother, Wood? He owes me 20 galleons."
Summary: You were determined to uncover the identity of your secret admirer. You tried countless spells, even attempted to contact him directly, and somehow ended up kissing Adrian Pucey along the way. In the end, though, it wasn't magic that gave him away-it was his cologne.
Warnings: Cuss words. Reader is a little bitch, but we like it. Tom Riddle (Cause he's a warning himself). Fluffy ending.
A/N: I finally wrote Part 2!! Hope ya'll like it! Here is Part 1
Masterlist
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You were going to catch him.
You were going to catch the creep who'd been leaving roses for you.
He'd been leaving them for weeks.
You'd found them in your robes, your books, and even in your dorm.
You'd tried hundreds of spells, hoping at least one would lead you back to the culprit.
Whoever it was, he definitely didn't want to reveal himself until he decided to.
But you weren't going to sit around and wait until the next time he felt like sending you a note.
Nuh-uh.
If anything was going to happen, it was going to happen your way.
It was time for Plan A-
You grabbed a piece of parchment and started scribbling.
Hiding behind flowers and notes? Or are you just scared, kitty cat?
You folded it and dropped it outside your dorm before leaving for class.
This time, you were going to be the one playing games.
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Later, when you returned to your dorm, you opened the door to find a single black rose resting on your desk with a note attached.
You unfolded it.
"Kitty cat," darling? Interesting choice of words.
Your eyebrows furrowed.
That's it? That's all you've got?
You huffed before tossing the note aside. Picking up the flower, you examined it.
Who could it be?
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Well... Plan A didn't work.
Onto Plan B.
If he wasn't going to show himself, you were just going to have to flush him out.
You were walking through the hallways when you spotted your target-Adrian Pucey-surrounded by a group of students.
Perfect.
You walked up to him confidently.
You were by no means unattractive. Plenty of students had tried asking you out.
You just hadn't valued any of them enough to say yes.
"Hi," you said, stepping forward. "Adrian, right?"
You gave your flirtiest look.
He turned to you with a charming smile.
"That's right, sweetheart. To what do I owe this pleasure?"
"You know, Adrian..."
You smoothly sat beside him.
"I never realized how good you looked out there on the Quidditch pitch."
You internally snorted.
You couldn't have cared less.
But judging by the grin spreading across his face, your words were definitely working.
You tuned out whatever he said next before suddenly pulling him into a kiss.
He froze for only a moment before resting his hands on your hips, one of them slowly sliding lower to your ass.
You forced yourself not to recoil.
As the kiss continued, you ignored the whistles and hollering around you, your eyes scanning the crowd for your secret admirer.
Ugh. Pucey's using his tongue. That's enough.
You pulled away, flashing Adrian a fake smile before walking off, your eyes searching every face.
You hoped the spectacle you'd just caused would finally force your admirer to reveal himself.
"Where are you...?" you muttered.
Your gaze swept across the sea of students until it landed on a tall, dark figure standing in the corner.
Who is that?
You shoved your way through the crowd, trying to reach him.
By the time you got there...
He was gone.
A crushed black rose lay on the floor where he'd been standing.
It was him.
You'd just made eye contact with your secret admirer.
And you'd let him get away.
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When you returned to your dorm, there were no roses this time.
Just a note.
Trying to make me jealous, darling? Careful. That's a dangerous game you're playing. No one touches what's mine.
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Two weeks had passed since that incident.
Apparently, Adrian had suffered a little "accident" during Quidditch practice and broken his arm.
No one suspected anything.
Except you.
You had a feeling your admirer had something to do with it.
The same admirer who had gone completely silent for the past two weeks.
You sat through Potions, only half-listening to the professor drone on before the words "project" and "partner" caught your attention.
You groaned internally.
You hated group projects.
People either didn't contribute or were too incompetent to contribute.
In the end, you always ended up doing all the work and everyone got an Outstanding.
Partners were assigned randomly, as usual.
This time...
You were paired with Riddle.
Tom Riddle.
Tom Riddle with his perfect hair and perfect robes and perfect grades.
Ugh.
He walked over to your desk.
"Today. Library. Six o'clock. Don't be late."
He paused.
"Or I'll start without you."
Without waiting for a response, he walked away.
What a dick.
You sighed.
At least this time you wouldn't have to do all the work.
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You arrived at the library exactly at six.
He was already waiting.
"Good," he said without looking up from his book. "You can comprehend simple instructions. Sit."
You resisted the urge to roll your eyes.
As you sat beside him, the scent of his cologne drifted over.
Huh.
That smells familiar.
Before you could place it, Tom began speaking.
"The assignment covers advanced antidotes."
He slid a sheet of parchment toward you.
"I'll handle the theoretical principles, historical development, and magical properties."
His quill continued moving across the page.
"You'll cover ingredient interactions, brewing techniques, and practical applications."
He neatly divided the parchment into two columns.
"We each draft our own sections. I'll compile the final report. You'll proofread it."
Finally, he looked up.
"We meet here again in three days."
A beat of silence.
"Questions?"
You raised an eyebrow.
"You really enjoy ordering people around, don't you?"
"I enjoy efficiency."
You simply opened your textbook.
Twenty minutes passed.
He never looked up.
Not once.
Your eyes drifted to the stubborn curl that rested against his forehead.
Not a single strand of hair was out of place.
An overwhelming urge to mess it up suddenly crossed your mind.
"You're staring."
His voice snapped you back to reality.
"Are you actually going to do some work," he asked dryly, "or are you going to continue staring at me as though I'm some prize-winning Hippogriff?"
"Shut up, Riddle. Your arrogance is staggering."
One corner of his mouth lifted.
He leaned closer.
His cologne surrounded you.
You knew that scent.
"You still haven't answered my question, darling."
Then it hit you.
The cologne.
The way he said darling.
Your eyes darted to the parchment he was writing on.
The handwriting.
It was identical.
"It's you..." you whispered, shock filling your voice.
He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms.
"Took you long enough."
"You're my secret admirer?!"
You shot to your feet.
"You've been leaving me roses! Notes! And you broke Adrian's arm!"
He looked entirely unapologetic.
"I told you."
His expression remained calm.
"No one touches what's mine."
You stared at him.
"Why hide it?"
One eyebrow rose.
"It made the chase more interesting."
A faint smirk tugged at his lips.
"Watching you exhaust yourself trying to discover who'd been leaving those roses..."
He tilted his head.
"I'll admit, it was rather entertaining."
"You couldn't have just asked me out like a normal person?"
He smiled.
A calculating, dangerous smile.
"Ask you out?"
He sounded almost amused.
"I don't ask."
"I take."
"You were already mine."
"I was simply waiting for you to realize it."
He looked you up and down.
"It took longer than I anticipated."
You look slightly taken aback.
"Are you calling me slow?"
"I'm merely making an observation."
You sat back down, a mischievous glint in your eyes.
"So..."
"You like me?"
He sighed as though the word physically pained him.
"I do not like."
"It is an embarrassingly juvenile term."
"I find your intellect considerably less disappointing than everyone else's."
A pause.
"And your face is... acceptable."
You blinked.
"'Acceptable?'"
"Wow."
"You really know how to make a girl's heart race, Riddle."
He shut his book with a quiet snap.
"Fine."
"I find you..."
A tiny pause.
"...attractive."
"There."
"Happy?"
You leaned back in your chair.
"No."
"No?"
"No."
He gave you an exasperated look.
"Would you prefer I sing your praises?"
"No."
"I want you to ask me out properly."
For the first time all evening...
Tom Riddle genuinely looked confused.
"You want me to ask you?"
"Yes."
"I already told you—"
"I don't care."
"You want me to be yours?"
"Ask me."
He muttered something under his breath about stubborn women.
Then he looked back at you.
"Fine."
"Will you allow me to take you to Hogsmeade and feed you something other than those dreadful Muggle noodles you insist on eating late at night?"
You chose not to ask how he knew about the noodles.
Instead, you smiled.
"Interesting choice of words."
"But I suppose, since you're begging..."
"I do not beg." He hissed.
"Since you're asking so nicely..."
He pinched the bridge of his nose.
"I suppose..."
"I'll accept your invitation."
He stood, gathering his books.
A smug smile spread across his face.
"I knew you would."
You rolled your eyes.
"God, you're insufferable."
"So I've been told," he replied smoothly. "Fortunately for you, you seem to like impossible men."
He walked toward the library exit without another glance back.
"...You're buying the butterbeer," you called after him.
Without turning around, he simply raised a hand.
"Naturally. I expect my future wife to have standards."
————————————————————————
Tag list - @pbjts @bunnieeegohop @mooniez @ithinkaboutyouuu @yourstargirlyyy
theodore nott x reader warnings: strong language, cheating, suggestive themes word count: around 2K
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you’d been with adrian pucey for so long that sometimes it felt like muscle memory.
like brushing your teeth. like tying your shoes. like… breathing.
you didn’t remember the start of it, not really. you just knew you were eleven and your families had sat you down in some over-decorated drawing room and smiled about the future. about how the puceys and your family had always been close, about how you two were perfect together. you’d blushed and nodded and adrian had shrugged like it didn’t matter, and then… it just happened.
a relationship. a future written out before you even knew what you wanted.
and now? now you couldn’t stand the sight of him half the time.
it wasn’t his fault, not really. adrian wasn’t cruel or even particularly annoying. he was just… dull. predictable. smug when he thought he was being charming. he kissed like he thought he was doing you a favor, like you should be grateful. he talked about quidditch like it was his entire personality. and merlin, the way he looked at you like he already owned you..
you would’ve suffocated if it weren’t for theo.
theodore nott, with his half smiles and cigarette stained fingertips, his drawl that made even your name sound like a secret, his quiet cleverness that turned to wickedness when you were alone. he’d slipped into your life like a knife between ribs. you hadn’t meant for it to happen, but the first time he touched you, you realized how long it had been since someone actually saw you.
theo made you laugh.
theo made you feel.
theo kissed you like he wanted to ruin you.
and for months, you’d been sneaking around. hooking up in empty classrooms, sneaking into his dorm after curfew, whispered fights about how you were still with adrian.
lately, though, theo had been relentless.
“break up with him,” he’d growled just last week, his fingers curled tight around your wrist as if that would keep you from running. “i’m not doing this anymore. i’m not your dirty little secret.”
you’d pulled away, panicked.
“it’s not the right time, theo.”
“it’s never the right time with you.”
and since then, you’d been avoiding him. or trying to. pretending to focus on adrian, on your friends, on the upcoming slytherin party you had to attend with adrian at your side. pretending theo wasn’t haunting you every time you closed your eyes.
that’s how you ended up in the slytherin common room, music loud, alcohol flowing, adrian’s arm slung over your shoulders like a leash. you were laughing at something blaise said, pretending everything was fine. pretending you didn’t notice theo across the room, leaning against the wall with a beer in hand, staring at you like he could strip you bare with just his eyes.
you ignored him. you had to.
and then the music cut.
at first, you thought it was just a song change. someone had hopped onto the little makeshift stage where instruments sometimes appeared, enchanted by someone’s charm. a couple of guys had picked up guitars, and the crowd started to cheer.
and then you heard it.
“scotty doesn’t know that fiona and me do it in my van every sunday…”
your stomach dropped.
because the voice singing wasn’t just anyone’s. it was theo’s.
theo.
on stage.
with a guitar.
singing that fucking song.
the crowd went wild, laughing, cheering, clapping along. it was rowdy and hilarious and perfect for a party. except it wasn’t. not when every line felt like it was being spat at you. not when theo’s eyes were locked on yours like a dare. not when adrian was right next to you, oblivious, bobbing his head to the music like a complete idiot.
you felt your skin crawl with heat, panic rising in your throat. you forced a smile and shoved adrian lightly.
“go get me another drink, yeah?”
“anything for you, love.” he kissed your temple and headed off.
and you were left there, frozen, as theo sang into the mic like he was testifying in church, pouring every ounce of venom and desire into the lyrics. scotty doesn’t know. scotty doesn’t know.
everyone was laughing, but theo wasn’t. his eyes were sharp, dangerous, zeroed in on you like a target. you could feel your heart hammering, the air in the room crackling with the weight of his defiance.
by the time the song ended, the crowd roared, and theo smirked as if he’d just detonated a bomb. which, in a way, he had.
you shoved your way through the crowd, fury bubbling up under your skin. you caught him backstage; if you could even call it that, just a corner shielded by a tapestry.
“what the fuck was that?” you hissed, shoving at his chest.
he caught your wrist easily, smirk never faltering.
“entertainment.”
“entertainment? you just- do you realize- adrian could’ve-”
“adrian’s too thick to realize anything,” theo interrupted smoothly, leaning down so close his breath ghosted over your cheek. “you think he’d ever imagine you’d be on your knees for me behind the library stacks?”
your face flamed. you shoved him harder this time, but he just caught you again, grip firm, unyielding.
“don’t,” you warned, voice trembling. “don’t do this here.”
“where then?” his tone snapped sharp, frustration bleeding through. “when? you’ve been stringing me along for months. i’m sick of waiting. sick of pretending. sick of watching you play house with him while you crawl into my bed at night.”
you swallowed hard, chest tight.
“it’s not that simple, theo.”
“it is.” his eyes burned into yours. “you break up with him. you choose me. or you don’t. but you don’t get to keep me in the shadows anymore.”
your pulse roared in your ears. you loathed him for cornering you, for being right, for making you feel like this, for the song, for the way your entire body still ached for him even now.
“you’re an asshole,” you spat.
“maybe.” his smirk was razor-sharp, but his voice softened dangerously. “but i’m the one you actually want.”
your breath hitched. because he was right. and that terrified you more than anything.
the crowd was still roaring outside. adrian was probably weaving his way back with a drink for you, smiling like the clueless idiot he was. and you were here, pressed against a wall by theodore nott, your secret laid bare in the most public way possible.
and you knew something had to break.
either your relationship.
or you.
and suddenly the words slip out before you can overthink them:
“i choose you. i choose me.”
his eyes go wide for half a second, just long enough for your stomach to flip. then he’s smirking again, that dangerous, smug smirk, but softer now. warmer. like he’s been waiting for this exact confession for months.
you don’t even hesitate. you step even closer. your hands find his neck, his jaw, the warmth of him grounding you. and you kiss him.
it’s messy. desperate. not careful, not polite. your lips crash together in a way that leaves no room for doubts or secrets. your hands tangle in his hair, his fingers press into your waist, holding you close like he’s never letting go.
for a few glorious, reckless seconds, it’s just you two. the world shrunk to the heat between you. you don’t care who’s watching. you don’t care about the whispers or the judgement or adrian standing somewhere clueless. you’re done pretending. done hiding.
and when you finally pull back, forehead resting against his, breath mingling, his smirk softens into something almost tender, almost vulnerable.
“about time, amore.” he murmurs, and you laugh breathlessly, because he’s right. it was about time.
you squeeze him, whispering against his chest, “been waiting for this forever.”
“so have i,” he says, and god, the way he says it makes your chest ache in the best possible way.
and for the first time in months, maybe years, you feel like yourself. alive. reckless. unafraid. because you chose him. you chose you. and suddenly, nothing else matters.
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the ending might be a little rushed, but i didn’t wanna make it any longer or do a part two 😭😭. also, i’m really open to requests for slytherin boys texts because i’m having a DROUGHT and have zero ideas whatsoever 😔.
warnings: draco getting abused by kids, pure fluff obv, ooc probably sorry for that, mattheo being told to x _ x , not proof read
• kids yanking on Draco’s head back n forth to get his attention 1
• kids begging them for icecream because they know they’re rich1
• getting makeovers from the kids
• one kid that wont leave Blaise’s side no matter what because they think he’s their uncle1
• Theo teaching the kids how to pronounce words but they develop somewhat of an italian accent after
• Pansy having to be the “mean one” because the boys let the kids do too much
• Adrian teaching the kids how to do a cartwheel
• Terence having to always find the things the kids lose (he was a seeker)
• Daphne is an expert hair braider
• Enzo being forced to play prince whenever they play castle
• Lucian cooking and making all the snacks
• Mattheo cursing infront of the kids and then having to tell them they arent allowed to repeat a word he said
• them teaching the kids how to play quidditch
• you teaching the kids how to use puppy dogs eyes to get what they want from the boys
• the kids coloring in the boys tattoos
• it becoming a habit for all the kids to blame Draco whenever they fart
• Theo trying to get the babies to eat their food by showing them its not too bad only for the second the spoon gets in his mouth he realizes his mistake ( he did have to run to the trash can)
• Blaise falling asleep during naptime eachtime
• Enzo buying the kids a ton of candy on halloween only for it to become a disaster when they all get sugar highs
• Pansy teaching the kids how to draw but Mattheo keeps insulting all of her work and taking over the class
• Terence being really good at impressions and making the kids toys/stuffies speak to them which the kids love
• Lucian being crawled on top of like theres no tomorrow
• Adrian loves to take pictures of the cute weird things the kids do
• Daphne constantly buying cute furniture for the place cuz she cant help her shopping/thrifting habits
• kids telling you “you have cooties” for a whole week because they saw you kiss Theo once
• you always having cute nails done
• Mattheo giving kids golden stars secretly if they bring him things he needs
• Enzo bringing his childhood stuffed animal for show n tell, one of the kids steals it. He spends the whole entire day trying to get it back only to fail, which he later has to explain to the parent that their child stole his stuffy and he desperately needs it back.
• Blaise loves playing kitchen because he gets to act like Gordon Ramsay with the kids (without all the cursing)
• Theo wears a new cartoon character on his shirt everyday of the week
• on valentines day the whole group wore matching outfits(you, pansy, and daphne begged them) the kids were sad that you guys didn’t tell them because they wanted to match with you all. now every two weeks, you have a matching day where you guys and the kids can match
• Draco being bullied for his sneeze by the kids because one time Pansy said he sounded weird when he did
• Lucian getting jumped scared by the kids because they just pop out of no where
• Terence getting pelted with balls one time because he called Daphne ugly as a joke (the kids weren’t happy)
• Blaise always bringing popsicles for himself but whenever he goes to the fridge to get one they are all gone
• Mattheo getting the kids names mixed up
• Theo playing the guitar for the kids
• Adrain being force fed snacks by the kids because he cant say no to them
• you being in charge of the music
• Enzo having to slow motion run when he plays tag with the kids because their little legs can barely get them anywhere and he wants them to feel like they’re doing good
• Draco being the designated swing pusher out on the playground
• Theo jumping into your arms when the kids tried to put a bug they found on him
• Mattheo nearly get into a fight with one of the kids when they told him kys (they learned from their older sibling)
• you and Mattheo getting into fights about who the kids like more (they like you more except one kid who thinks mattheo is darth vader)
• Enzo and you being the ones to close for the week but when the others come back the next morning they find you two asleep on the ground with a deck of cards in between you (you two were never allowed to close after that)
• you and Blaise spending all day decorating the walls for Christmas only for one of the kids to tell you two it was really ugly(they were in a bad mood) it made you both very sad. He ended up hiding in a corner, scrolling on his phone while mumbling rude thoughts. While you went into the arms of Theo for the rest of the day.
• Pansy slapping your ass out of habit, one of the kids saw and started to try and do the same to his friends. Lets say it was a rough day for everyone.
• Draco kept receiving apology gifts for all he has suffered which he accepted very confusedly. (you had started a craft project for the kids to make apology gifts for him because you knew he had a bad day the previous day.)
• Terence and you being called ken and barbie for a whole month after one of the kids made a joke. Theo was not happy about it. (note: this does not imply the reader is blonde, its for diff reason)
• you and Adrian breaking the number one rule of daycare, playing hide and seek. you ended up losing a kid and you two found the kid in a storage closet. it had been all day she had been hiding. you two chose to never mention it to the others so you wouldn’t get fired.
• Lucian giving you piggy back rides all around the place because he was tired about hearing you complain about your feet hurting
• Daphne and you wearing matching makeup. It first started off as you guys just happening to pick the same colors till eventually you just ended up sharing what you were gonna do.
• Theo loving you the way Hal loves Lois(yes this is a mitm reference) you two weren’t dating at the beginning of you guys being hired but after two years of him pining and a lot of encouragement he asked you out.
a/n: i actually really liked this lmk if you did! if you dont know lucian terence adrain just search em up on tiktok or something. dont know much about them but im a sucker for a background character. let me know if you want more tho i can’t guarantee. also might just maybe write little blurbs based off these.
Summary - After the swiftest and smuggest victory in Hogwarts quidditch history, the Slytherins held their usual party. Blared music, flowing drinks, the works. The sweetest words come out when alcohol goes in; but are they ever true?
Warnings - Consumption of alcohol and weed, mentions of sex, vomiting, emetophobia, drunken behaviour, crying, pain relief. Inebriated angst with the happiest of happy endings, since I cannot write sad ones.
WC: 3.2K
When you were ten years old, you left home on a biting September morning, and were dropped off at King's Cross station by your surprisingly teary mother and father.
The wait to pull out of the platform was long and boring.
In your lap was your newly-bought owl. You had refused to have it stored away with the trunks like some sort of toad. Cassiopeia, you named her. Her feathers were soft, and they matched your hair. She cooed when you rubbed her head.
"How are they all full?" Miles squeaked, stood in the narrow corridor with the other boys, red-faced as they began to run out of compartments to double check.
Marcus sighed and pushed him to keep walking. He didn't even know Bletchley — all of the boys' fathers had introduced them at the station — but he felt that he needed the push.
Adrian pressed himself against the door of a compartment as a few fourth years ran up the corridor. He huffed and turned his head, looking through glass and seeing you alone.
"Hey, this one's fine."
"There's a girl in there." Miles said plainly, like that was fear enough to not enter.
Adrian rolled his eyes and slid the compartment door open.
Your head turned at the sound and your owl cowered into your chest.
Adrian forced a rather nervous smile, meeting your eye. "Hi. Sorry about.." He gestured to your scared owl. "Yeah. Would it be okay if we sat with you? Everywhere else is full."
Feathers ruffled against your hand as you attempted to calm your bird, nodding at the boy.
The group entered and sat down. All of you were introduced. The rest is history.
Now, years later, you were seventh years. Seventh years with the deepest dungeon dorms, the highest honoured titles, and the most infamous reputations as if you were competing with one another.
Each of you were known for different things. Marcus, for his talent for vexing Gryffindors, Miles, for dealing black market muggle weed, Lucian, for his deafening laugh that has gotten him many detentions, and Adrian, for causing that laugh.
You loved one another for different reasons to different levels, but in the end, Adrian was your best friend, and you were his.
Secrets between you two remained secrets. He trusted you more than anything, and had bared parts of himself to you that he was shamed to even think of. They were always met with comfort, never judgment.
In the same ways, he comforted you. Wiped your tears when bottling them up ended badly, listened to your frequent rants and helped you however he could.
Often with your exhaustion. Many titles were attached to your name — heir, captain, try-hard — and they grew heavy quickly.
Regardless of how those words weighed on you, you had to bear them all the same.
And you did so with pride.
You were an heir to the ancient houses of Malfoy and Black, a "prodigy", — Lucius' words — and Slytherin's quidditch captain. The last of which titles you held dearest to your heart.
Earlier today, Slytherin had beat Gryffindor; all thanks to your quick thinking mid-game, repositioning the beaters onto the day's strongest chasers, and running circles around Wood like he owed you money: you were amazing, as always.
The match was followed by a rager of a party, full of flowing drinks, blow, and laughter loud enough to top the deafening music.
The dance floor was full, centred by you in your skimpy dress, and your favourite boy. Adrian had a delicate grip on your hand, and waist, and a slightly tipsy grin on his face as he spun you.
Dancing was one of his favourite things to do with you. The rhythm seemed to flow effortlessly between your bodies, it always ended up being more of an embrace than a show.
After a while, you decided to take a break from dancing and ran off with some ravenclaw girlfriends to get high as a kite off of hufflepuff weed.
Adrian left the floor and hung back against the wall with Lucian, — he didn't enjoy parties, only came because the others forced him — sprawled out on a couch sipping gin leisurely, pleasure thrumming through his body from the satisfaction of the afternoon's win and the drink's effects.
Across from the pair was Flint in an armchair, a ravenclaw in his lap as he sought a different kind of pleasure, his hands gripping the globes of her ass with a charming smirk.
Pucey rolled his eyes. Marcus always did this. Fucked some random in a broom cupboard and came stumbling into the dorm, either talking about it or vomiting his guts out when everyone was just trying to develop their hangover in peace.
The image did make his mind wander. Who were you with?
Maybe Davies. He was eyeing you all night… always loves to appear with the convenient excuse of "quidditch captain things". Adrian scoffed to himself like a petulant child, he needed to get a grip.
You were entitled to your flings, it's not as if he hadn't had a few carnal nights. You could shag whomever you wanted, and when Lucian would ask if anyone had fun last night; talk about it at the breakfast table. Even if the thought made bile rise into his throat.
The truth always bubbled to the surface of a stewing pot of jealousy: you weren't his. As much as he wished it wasn't so, that was your choice. It's not like he's subtle with his feelings.
By Miles' description, he's always looked at you like you'd spiked his pumpkin juice with amortencia.
Bole's clicking fingers in front of his face snapped him out of his trace.
He refocused his eyes just in time to grab the shot of alcohol floating, and downed it. The burning of his throat dragged him down to earth.
Sweet Merlin, Flint's girl's moaning.
Adrian got up to go find you — the clock said 2, you were likely hammered by now —, because he was in no way keen to watch Marcus walk the edge of becoming a father.
You were tucked onto an unstable table in a corner with your girls, eyes red, hair messy but gorgeous all the same, a lazy grin on your face.
An alternate dimension had taken you; aka, you were off your ass intoxicated.
Adrian breathed out in relief and began to walk over, taking to the congratulations and pats on the back in passing kindly.
He smiled when he saw you, squeezing past your friends and leaning down to murmur in your ear so you'd hear him over the pounding tunes.
"You okay?"
Glossy lips were slightly ajar, an unintentional pout on your face as you looked up at him, eyes wide like a newborn baby's.
"Yeah…" Slurred like it was the first word you'd ever said.
A chuckle escaped him. "Yeah?" He teased, raising a large hand to smooth down your frizzing hair.
Your head nodded like it was hinged, and he huffed in amusement once again.
"Think you can walk?" His other arm wrapped around your waist, ready to carry you. The words were soft and tender, an utter contrast to the hot, lusty air in the common room.
A long "Uh…" left your mouth, and was finished by one of your bemused friends.
"Not a chance."
He nodded without looking away from your face, slowly pulling you to the edge of the table and easily lifting you into his arms. He began his walk through the crowd and down the girls' stairs.
Ringing was all you could hear, and he was all you could smell. The way he held you was so effortless; large biceps not being strained in the slightest…
"Adrian…" You murmured with a slurred, melodic voice, head nuzzled into his chest.
Suddenly nothing felt ecstatic.
"What is it, darling?" He asked quietly, taking a glance down. The music from the party dulling as he descended the stairs step by step.
It was like your stomach had churned itself into a knot, and you gagged, jerking weakly into his arms.
"Shit." Was muttered under Pucey's breath. He rushed down the last few steps and pushed your dorm door open, shutting it with a silent spell and rushing you into the ensuite.
He placed you on your knees before the toilet, the hand on your waist guiding you there unintentionally pushing on your stomach, making you all the more nauseous.
A pained, unattractive half groan, half burp left your mouth.
Adrian rushed to get behind you and gathered your hair into his hand just in time for the contents of your stomach to empty.
Thankfully, it was all at once.
You slumped forward, groaning weakly as your hands gripped the bowl.
Adrian rubbed your back slowly, letting your hair free from his grip to reach up and grab a washcloth from the edge of the sink.
He shifted to come to your side. Your head felt like a weight, but you looked up at him. There was no airy happiness remaining from five minutes ago. Just messy hair, glassy eyes, and wet lips.
The brown-haired boy gently wiped around your mouth.
"You'll feel better now, love." He murmured quietly, dropping the cloth and drawing you into his arms carefully, scooping you onto his lap. "You needed that."
"Ugh…"
His large hand cupped the side of your head, holding it gently against his chest. His lips pressed against the crown of your head.
A long sigh escaped you, your hand curling around his bicep for some sort of purchase.
"You need to stop drinking that pink bullshit."
Narcissa seemed to have spawned into your bathroom, with the way you were being lectured.
A lazy chuckle escaped you. "You'll be puking in half an hour. Shut it."
He huffed, shivering slightly at the thought. He fucking hated vomiting…
You sighed again, and shifted to look up at him, laying your arms over his shoulders. "Thank you for getting me when you did."
The corners of his lips immediately turned upwards, and he tucked some loose hair behind your ear. "Don't thank me. It's my job."
You shared his smile, looking at him so fondly. He really was the best bloke you would ever find. He was kind, and soft, and still looked at you like you were delicate after you had just expelled the contents of your stomach right before his eyes.
Clearly, you were a melancholic drunk.
Your voice was quiet and intimate, still slightly slurred. "Y'know I love you."
Those words always did something to him. They wrenched his heart as equally as they filled it. He nodded, slowly rubbing your back to give his clenching fingers something to do.
"I don't love you like I love the others."
His blue eyes were piercing your soul, his expression suddenly pensive, and his hand stilled.
This silent breath charm better have worked. You stood on your knees and leaned in to kiss him.
He dodged your lips with the greatest self restraint anyone could have. His forehead dropped against your shoulder as you whined in drunken confusion.
One moment you were telling him you loved him, the next you were trying to snog him. It all happened so quickly.
"Adrian?"
"You're drunk, love." His arms wrapped tightly around you, hiding the scrunched look on his face. "Don't do anything you'll regret in the morning."
"I…" You murmured, trying to catch your words. "I won't." Salty tears began to well in your eyes. "You don't love me."
That made him let out a humourless huff, lifting his head just to look into your eyes, cupping your face. He uttered your name quietly and painfully.
"Of course I love you. What are you on about?"
Tears dripped down your face as you sniffled, the drink making it even harder to calm yourself. "You don't wanna kiss me." Spoken shakily.
"That's not-" He sighed and wicked droplets away from your cheeks with his thumb. "You're pissed. You don't actually want this." The sight of your tears made him want to cry too. His voice was low and resigned, sad and despondent. "You just want to shag someone."
An incredulous sob left your lips.
Adrian immediately regretted his words. Fucking idiot can't keep his own insecurities to himself, and now is making you wail. Great.
"I didn't mean it like that-"
"I love you." You murmured as you tried to catch your breath, face contorted and reddened with emotion. "Not like a 'best mate' or somethi-"
Adrian sucked in a quick breath and looked away. "No."
You sobbed, leaning your head into his caress desperately. "Kiss me. Please?"
"Darling-"
His hand was wet from your tears, and he let it drop from your cheek. You were looking at him with pleading eyes. You would never beseech for anything. It broke him to see you do so for such a void prize.
"Will you stay with me?" You asked shakily.
It was often that you sleep in each other's arms, but after the callous rejection, you weren't sure.
He sighed and nodded. He must hate himself.
After that heavy exchange on the bathroom floor, he lifted you into bed and undid the intricate buckles on your heels. Then he climbed in with you, and let you cuddle into his chest.
It was quickly that you fell asleep.
At 4am when he sat back against the wall of the ensuite, waiting to vomit again after he had already done so once, he thought of you.
Denying you was the right choice. You were drunk out of your mind, and you didn't mean a word of it; he wasn't some rapey opportunist who would kiss you when you were in that state.
But something inside of him felt wrong. It was the alcohol, pushing him for more, pushing him to let go of everything holding him back and snog you until your lips were swollen.
It would've saved you bawling on the bathroom floor.
No. He made the right choice. You were out of it. You didn't love him like that.
After he had gotten sick again, Pucey crawled back into bed, curling himself around you from behind.
It was midday by the time you woke. There was a drum in your head, pounding. Thank Merlin for the pain potion yesterday's self proactively put on your bedside table. It was knocked back your throat, and began working instantly.
Then you were more aware of the arms tight around your middle. Adrian's hot breath was warming your neck.
Your eyes shut in relaxation, nuzzled comfortably in the covers.
Then you remembered. Fucking hell.
Crying your eyes out, ruining your friendship while high out of your mind.
You tried to shift out of his arms, pulling roughly.
That woke him. He mumbled something unintelligible against the back of your neck, drawing his arms around you tightly, pinning you against his bare chest — he had stripped off his shirt after his second time getting sick.
Shit.
Your name was a sleepy murmur from his lips. You stayed silent.
The only sound in the dark room was the rustle of duvet.
Consciousness found him gradually, until his headache and memories of last night were at the forefront of his mind.
You rolled onto your back, reaching for a pain potion for him. All you could hope for was his amnesia.
He took the vial graciously and swallowed it down in one gulp, then turned his head to look at you.
Those blue irises were taken over by large pupils, a thoughtful look on his face as he raised one hand to your cheek.
You gave him an uncharacteristically nervous smile,and immediately straightened your face out after, regretting it.
"Sleep well?" He asked roughly, as his hand rubbed your waist slowly.
You nodded.
"Good."
A huff left you as you built up the courage to speak. "Last night-"
The brown-haired boy shook his head, and stroked his thumb just below your eye.
"We don't have to talk about it." The words hurt to say, but they had to be said all the same.
"You were drunk, I get it."
For a long moment, you were silenced, eyes flitting across his face with the knowledge that this moment was a crossroad for your relationship, one that you had avoided for far too long.
You let a hand slip to his back — so it had something to do besides mess with the covers — and moved your head so your nose was almost touching his.
"I meant it."
Adrian's hand stilled, his eyes widening with incredulity.
Now, you were emboldened. The sheets were warm with the heat of your bodies, and smelled like alcohol and sweat. It felt so natural leaning in, kissing his cheek.
"I love you, Adrian."
A hand lifted to caress where your lips had just touched, leaning your forehead against his.
The boy was stunned. His eyes were wide and his entire form was stilled, like if he moved you would disappear. But quickly, he found sense.
"I fucking love you too." He chuckled nervously, delicately holding your face in his hand. He pressed a quick kiss to your temple and tucked your head under his chin, breathing in the scent of your hair.
There was no way to describe the feeling, besides a deep sense of correctness. This was where you belonged, in his arms, held and loved.
"Can I kiss you now?" You murmured against his neck, voice softly teasing.
He huffed softly in amusement, rubbing your back. "Once I brush my teeth, baby."
You didn't wait for him to do so.
Your mouth probably tasted like you had licked the ground, how different would it be kissing him?
So swiftly, you clasped his chin in your hand and crashed your lips together.
The kiss was long and final, hungry and visceral. Disgusting to most, deeply intimate to you.
An hour and a half later, the pair of you rocked up to lunch, fashionably late.
You were wearing his jersey, and a pleased-with-yourself grin.
Adrian guided you onto the bench with a hand on your lower back, then slipped in beside you, wrapping his arm around your waist, reaching for a slice of toast like a starved orphan.
The boys across from you were eyeing the pair of you with a mix of amusement and disbelief.
"That the only thing you ate this morning?" Marcus was the first to tease, as ever.
You chuckled and took a bite of a sharply sour green apple — your favourite. Adrian's face was smug as he shook his head no.
He leaned in to press sickening kisses against your cheek. "She's far sweeter."
Flint laughed at his friend's entrancement.
"Did you two get married after I blacked out?" Miles asked, elbows on the table, hair going every which way as he powered through this day.
"It’s on my to do list." Adrian said with a large, arrogant grin, only half joking.
If his scrawny first year self could see him now, his eyes might pop out of his head. Seeing himself with his lips locked onto the most perfect girl he could think of.
It's safe to say his shit-eating expression would not dull soon.
Adrian Pucey m.list ⌯⌲
hi this is my first time writing for adrian
i already have another done... i can't help it i love having hot men that i can make my own
Description: Small drabble about the boys bed times and a little y/n storyline within it. Boys included: Adrian, Miles and Terence. Part two here Warnings: none, just useless fluff and information drop.
Adrian Pucey
Adrian’s a morning person. It’s a learnt family trait to go to sleep early and wake up early. Early bird gets the worm kind of thing. But it always feels like Adrian’s lived ten different lives before breakfast is even served at Hogwarts. His either gotten a work out in, or had quidditch practice. Done some random side quest someone’s asked of him the day prior or could be completing homework in his dorm or at the library. But he always looks put together walking through the hallways smiling and greeting people he knows with enthusiasm while they barely comprehend it tired out of their minds. Adrian doesn’t nap he will power through the day until everything is done and go to bed earlier ready for the next day. (The only time he will nap is if he is sick).
You didn’t mind his early bed times but his early wake up’s were a killer especially if you stayed over at his dorm for the night. You’ve somehow learnt to sleep through his rolling out of bed and getting ready, and he leaves you to sleep a little longer and comes back to wake you with enough time to get ready and go to breakfast together. It’s routine now and you wouldn’t change a thing.
Usually Adrian can stay awake for your daily recap and this night your doing just that and he wants to listen he really does, he cares about your interests but merlin is he tired. Flint made everyone get up at 5:30am to make it practice at 6am. You can see his eyes slowly close and flicker open just to close again and you think it’s funny but super cute. You shuffle closer to him in bed caressing his hair softly.
“Hmm?’ He mumbles eyes barely open
“What did i just say?” You question a smile evident in your voice
“I agree” he replies clearly not comprehending anything your saying
You kiss his forehead and lay your head beside him. “Goodnight”
“Love you” he says quietly shoulders wiggling to get comfortable under the blanket
“Love you too”
Miles Bletchley
Miles is up at ungodly hours. he likes spending his time up in the towers of the castle reading cause he feels a little claustrophobic deep in the Slytherin dorms. The cold keeps him alert and awake so when he walks into the dorms the heat from the fireplace makes him drowsy. He can easily slip into bed and his body submits to the warmth within minutes. He is a heavy sleeper, it takes a lot to wake him up. So he has a secret stash of breakfast bars in case he sleeps through an alarm or misses breakfast because his tired. (No one tell Terence he can do this).
He knows Filch’s routine off by heart by now, timing his walk down to the Slytherin dorms perfectly so when he sees you about to head right into Filch’s path he quickly bolted towards you. His shoes rustling against the stone floors catching you completely off guard as he grabs you and pulls you into the classroom door crevice just in time. Your eyes met his starry brown ones and you hit him off you in an attempt to push away and he lets you go. You brush down your robe and glance at him up and down.
‘What on earth do you think you’re doing?’
‘Saving you a week worth of detention? A thank you would be nice’
‘A thank you for almost tripping me over and crushing my head against the stone floors?’
‘That’s dramatic, I caught you just fine’
Despite the rocky start you suddenly start seeing him more around the school. You notice passing him as you walk from the Ravenclaw dorms to the library except his going up… so naturally you followed him. It took a while but you guys finally became friends, lovers. Now he spends his nights reading at the window of your dorm in the Ravenclaw towers, your legs tangled as you sit across from him reading your own. He sleeps earlier and easier now that he doesn’t have to avoid the underground of the Slytherin dorms most nights.
Terence Higgs
Terence gets distracted and misses the time. He could be up for hours studying, drawing or reading comics and it’s only when he glances at the time and sees it’s 2am does he then feel the weight of the day against his eyes. He does make an effort to get to bed at a reasonable time but sometimes that slips from him. His one of those people who is like yeah I stayed up all night doing this but somehow comes out chirpy the next day even if he is waking up 30 minutes after his alarm, almost missing breakfast and slipping through the crowd to get to his class on time. Yet you see it in his eyes, a tired gaze and dark under eyes (those are permanent). He will take naps though. If Terence is missing he is without a doubt asleep in his room face down on his pillow still in his uniform and robe because he didn’t intend to fall asleep… he just casually flopped onto his bed and it happened. You join him for midday naps too because…
You and Terence lose track of time together way too often. You swear you only just started talking but it’s 12am now, you swear you were only going to read one chapter of the comic book together but you look over and oh it’s 1am, you swear you only just started kissing but man its 2am… the energy just flows between you, you could stay up forever. But when bedtime finally comes your wrapped in his sheets and arms feeling like the safest person in the world, it’s easy to fall sleep within minutes. When you try to leave in the morning he complains and pulls you right back in, you can’t resist. Your sleepy… his sleepy.. what’s the worst that could happen? Missing out on breakfast? (That’s what Miles breakfast bars are for)
