Potter Fell Asleep During Potions Lecture, Again.

💜 ✈️ 🍓

Really love your art btw !! xx

Hi nonnie!

💜 Barely breathing pen/camera/laptop holder

✈️ I recently went on a trip to Taiwan, and amongst the places I visited there, it’s Jiufen Old Street that took my breath away (figuratively and literally because… lots of walking! But I’d go back there in a heartbeat).

🍓 Obsessed with llaollao lately!

Thank you being here and and *gets emotional* for your kind words about my art ♥︎

it's so wild to me that you absolutely cannot force a hyperfixation to happen. like you'll watch the most perfectly tailor-made-for-you content that everyone says you'll love and feel absolutely nothing, and then the thing you watch on a whim to fill time will reach through the screen and put its damn fingers in your brain and start rearranging the neurons right in front of you and every single time you're like THIS??? THIS??????? and this happens like every 6-12 months forever

If you see this on your dashboard, reblog this, NO MATTER WHAT and all your dreams and wishes will come true.

I’m having a lot of buzzcut drarry thoughts today.

It’s just the messy hair (would run his hands on it), those ugly forest-green eyes (would stare at them all day) and his towering savior title that made him look taller. Really.

Previous Harry was supposed to be this but the beard and long hair just spilled out. Your reactions were lovely (and quite feral), and I share the same sentiment, folks. I really do.

Freely Given by innerlilith, @kk1smet (18k, E)

Tags: swim lessons, swimmer draco malfoy, curse breaker harry potter, life debt, mild D/s vibes, praise kink, fic with art

When he complains at the end that the back of his neck is cramping, Malfoy says it’s because he’s lifting his whole head straight up out of the water to breathe, like an idiot. Apparently, he should keep half his face submerged, possibly including half his open mouth as well, for efficiency’s sake. You’ll get used to it, he says. And of course, he’s got a drill for that. Facedown, Harry holds the wall and kicks. Muscles taut and thrumming, bubbles running out of his mouth, Malfoy’s fingers gentle at the back of his skull. When his warbled voice filters through the water: breathe, Harry dutifully turns his face to the side, heaves a great open-mouthed gasp like a fish, then plunges back into the cool, muffled cocoon, awaiting permission to surface on the other side. If he lifts his head instead of turning, Malfoy’s hand is right there, giving no quarter. When Malfoy’s touch recedes, Harry is spitting out chlorine, heart pounding and dizzy with shortness of breath. In the shower, lathering up the shampoo and rubbing it over his head, he can feel the ghost of Malfoy’s fingers there, the gentle pressure. Breathe. Malfoy’s hand, pressing on his skull. Malfoy’s voice, telling him just what to do. Breathe. Harry puts his head under the spray. He wraps a hand around his cock. When he emerges, Malfoy is already gone.

(rec by @mallstars)

an incredible collab with brilliant dynamics and gorgeous art!

Detention (E, 1k words)

Harry spends his eighth year recontextualising his relationship with Draco Malfoy.

Tags: Only One Broom, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Fluff and Smut, Praise Kink, Top!Harry Potter

Author's note: Drarry one-shot I wrote for @kk1smet's birthday. Thank you for creating such wonderful art for this fandom, and for letting me use it here! K's original art post can be found here, and you can see more of her art at the bottom of this post!

* * *

They’ve been fighting since—well, since forever. But also since noon. The sky is dark now, and Harry has run out of patience. He turns on his heel, leaving Malfoy to scream into the void.

“Just where do you think you’re going?” 

“I’m going back to the castle. We’ll come back tomorrow.”

“Out of the question. I’m not spending another day—”

Harry can’t think of many things crueller than the detention McGonagall came up with for them. Another day stuck in the forest with Malfoy and he might just crack. But he’s already cracked, hasn’t he? He’s cracked about a thousand times today. 

“Suit yourself. If you can find unicorn hair in the dark, then by all means, go and find it. I’m going back.” 

And with that, Harry mounts his broom.

“Don’t you dare leave me here alone.”

“Then hop on.”

There’s a break, a little silence.  

“Fine. We’ll go back. But I’m flying.”

“Whatever,” Harry says, too tired for another fight. He dismounts, and offers the broom to Malfoy. 

The sound of crushed leaves fills the air as Malfoy comes closer, then grabs the broom in one swift motion. 

They get on.

Why did Harry think it was a good idea to only bring one broom? He’s uncomfortable, seated much too low, and has nowhere to put his hands. He hates not being in control of it, too. Malfoy flies with too much grace, a sin he didn’t know existed until that very moment. 

Time passes slowly.

Harry’s just got used to the precarious balance when a Thestral whizzes by.

“Ah,” Harry says, against his will, and wraps his hands around Malfoy’s waist. At the same time—or was it earlier?!—Malfoy’s hand lands on Harry’s calf, making Harry swallow the sorry he was about to blurt out. 

Surely, Malfoy will say sorry himself. Or remove his hand. 

He doesn’t. 

So Harry doesn’t remove his hands either. 

They land, and Malfoy’s hand lingers for a second too long.

They’re silent on the way to the castle. It’s bizarre, because the two of them are never silent. They bicker in class, when they’re forced to sit together for “the optics.” They bicker in the corridors, when they bump into each other. They bickered all day today. And now they’re silent, too silent, and the ghost of Malfoy’s touch buns a hole through Harry’s jeans.

Their footsteps echo against the stone walls. And then they stop. They’ve reached the staircase where their paths diverge. Harry has to go up the stairs, while Malfoy carries on.

They look at each other, neither of them moving. Then, at the same time, they act. Malfoy clears his throat. Harry walks towards a broom closet. 

Malfoy follows him in. It’s dark, much too dark to see, but he hears Malfoy dropping to his knees. He lets out a sound when he feels Malfoy’s hands parting his robes. The sounds intensify when Malfoy takes his cock out, and puts his mouth on it. It’s all so unexpected, so wonderfully wet and generous, Harry feels around until he touches Malfoy’s head. He’s really there. 

Fucking Draco Malfoy. Is on his knees. Sucking him off. 

Harry finishes in his mouth, and only afterwards realises he’s been panting. 

* * *

Harry corners Malfoy after Charms. Since last night, he’s had time to think. Truly, he’s had so much time to consider everything that’s ever happened between them, all the nuances of their relationship, all the ways in which they came together. And with all that knowledge safely stored in his brain, Harry locks the door.

Malfoy sinks to his knees. The light spills through the arched windows, and Harry can look into his eyes as he takes Harry in. 

“Jesus Christ,” Harry says, watching Malfoy’s lips strain against his cock. “I want to fuck you.”

Malfoy is a good little boy, because he releases his cock, stands up and bends over Flitwick’s desk. Harry lifts up his robe. 

“You’ve finally shut up,” Harry says, inserting one finger into Malfoy’s hole, pulling a moan out of him. “I love that.”

Harry doesn’t really know what he’s doing, but figures out enough. When he’s close, he pushes Malfoy back on his knees and comes all over his face.

Malfoy licks it off his lips. He’s finished in his pants.

* * *

Harry fucks Malfoy everywhere he can. He fucks him in deserted classrooms. In broom closets. The prefects’ bathroom. He fucks him so much and so often, they’ve both fallen behind on schoolwork. When they get detention for it, Harry fucks Malfoy on the forest bed. 

* * *

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Harry says, looking down at Malfoy. It’s the Christmas hols, and all of Malfoy’s roommates are away. It’s the first time they fuck in a bed.

“You’re beautiful,” Malfoy says, and drags Harry into a kiss. 

* * *

“You’re insatiable,” Draco says when Harry falls into step with him after breakfast. “We have Potions in five minutes.”

“Five minutes is plenty of time.”

Draco rolls his eyes, but lets Harry drag him into a broom closet. 

They waste most of the five minutes kissing, and then another five undressing. By the time Harry comes all over Draco’s chest, the bell ringing is a distant memory. 

“If we get detention again, I’ll kill you,” Draco says while he picks up his robes from the floor. 

“Don’t worry,” Harry says, cleaning them off both. “You go first.”

Harry waits two minutes before going into the classroom. 

“Professor, sorry I’m—”

His gaze falls on Draco, sporting a red tie and looking at Harry in horror. Just like everybody else.

Harry looks down at his own green tie. 

“—late,” he concludes, amidst rising bouts of laughter.

“Shh,” Slughorn says, trying and failing at suppressing a grin. “Ah, nothing like young love, is there? But also, detention to the two lovebirds.”

Harry shrugs at the Gryffindors’ shocked faces, then sits down next to Draco. 

“Sorry,” he whispers, a hand on Draco’s knee under the table.

“I’ll never forgive you,” Draco says solemnly. 

That night, they fuck—and sleep—in Harry’s bed.

Super adorable chibi art of them fondling each other on the broom © @kk1smet! 💖

Since when had his name become a soft prayer on Draco’s lips?

I recently finished Never Mind the Bollocks by The_Sinking_Ship. Since that day, it has been living in my head rent-free, and will remain there. Perhaps for a long, long time.

Every time I try to collect my thoughts to articulate every single thing I loved about a fic, I just end up screaming and dying with the feels. So instead of words, here’s some drawn lines (and more screaming).

May I offer you Potter’s penchant for annoying Draco (as usual) and nuzzling on him like a cat?

Part 2 here