Hello! This is a 18+ sideblog dedicated to HP content, mostly Drarry and rare pairs. This is a safe space for trans folks.
In this house we promote Don’t Like; Don’t Read, Ship and Let Ship, KINKTOMATO. Pls don’t waste your and my sending hate, it will be ignored and deleted.
This blog runs on queue. I don’t do fic finding but if you’re looking for recs, you’re welcome to check the lists below or send me an ask!
I. Drarry: Vol 1 | Vol 2 | Vol 3 | Vol 4
II. Rare Pairs | Smut | Drarry for Beginners
III. Wrapped: 2020 | 2021 | 2022 | 2023: 1 & 2
IV. Drarry Fests | Author & Artist Celebration | Hidden Gems Series | Rapid Fire Recs
V. Individual recs (in progress) | Kingsman recs
VI. Book recs
Resources:
Compilation of Drarry artists
Compilation of POC writers
Compilation of male fic writers
Compilation of Drarry fests
Compilation of Drarry reccers by @the-starryknight
Compilation of Drarry reccers by @lostdrarryfics
Curate your fandom experience by @the-starryknight
It’s done! Ahh I’m already missing this recs week. It was challenging but super fun and rewarding. I hope you have enjoyed it as much as I did! As usual, here’s the masterlist that is now linked on my pinned/bio post. Thank you guys for your amazing support, enthusiasm and feedback - a special shout-out to @uphorie for giving me this idea and to @tackytigerfic for always helping me pick banners and providing reassurance through anxiety times lol. Happy readings!
Hello friends! I finally put together all the #drarry reclists I’ve done in the past year, and this master post is now linked on my bio. Enjoy and don’t forget to shower these authors with love & appreciation!
Sad closeted Harry | One thinks the other is straight
Shakespearean references
Summer vibes | Cottagecore vibes | Dark & sexy vibes
Tattoos
Tea
Yoga
Winter coziness
8th year fuck buddies
21yo Drarry
Side characters:
Draco & Luna | Harry’s friends 1 & 2 | Supportive Ron | Teddy | Original characters | Narcissa | House elves | Charlie | Snape | BAMF Ron & Hermione | Weasleys appreciation | Ginny | Scorpius | Draco & Hermione
Personal favorites:
50k+ fics | Fics that give me chills | Oldies (2000-2010) (2011-2015) | All-time faves | Smut 1 & 2 | Hurtfest 2020 | Short fics 1 & 2 | Fics that made me cry | Popular tropes | G and T works | Long T-rated fics | Bedtime reads | New fics
Masterlist of fic reccers doing god’s work and their respective fic rec lists
Please let us know if you would like to be added to this post, or know of anyone we should add! Take note that not everyone on this list is still active or are taking requests. Please make sure to check with each user first before sending them a message!
@sitp-recs: masterlist
@drarryspecificrecs: masterlist / daily recs
@dragontamerdame: masterlist
@somegymnast: masterlist
@gracerene: masterlist / single recs
@capiturecs: masterlist / fic recs tag
@dictacontrion: masterlist / rec lists
@bridenore: masterlist / rec lists
@the-starryknight: rec lists / tlc tuesday
@softlystarstruck: weekly rec lists
@sweet-s0rr0w: round the world recs, five favorite fics
It’s a wrap! I’m so proud of myself for taking the time to organize my schedule so I could keep up with BB - I got to read many interesting fics with creative plots, unique characterization and sweet sweet Drarry romance. Here are my ten personal favorites in case anyone’s looking for their next long fic adventure. Can’t rec these enough! Have fun and make sure to leave these brilliant authors some love and appreciation ❤️
My top 3…
Home Truths by @skeptiquewrites // artwork by @fantalf (E, 67k) 🏠
In the off-season Harry decided to fix up Grimmauld Place and found that Draco Malfoy was the only person who could help him. A demanding career and unrelenting press scrutiny were enough to deal with before Harry added a house with a mind of its own, family history, and a tense, flirty, complicated relationship with his childhood nemesis to the mix.
Among Ancient Pines by @graymatters // artwork by @cambiodipolvere and @onlytheheartknows (M, 74k) 🌲
Every day, Draco Malfoy tries. With every fiber of his being he tries. But he doesn’t much think about what he’s trying for. A fic about challenging assumptions, discovering self-worth, the silver lining in failing to meet expectations, and finding friendship, love, and purpose in a small Alaskan town that’s steeped in magic.
The Secret Keeper by @the-fools-errand // artwork by @razielim (M, 225k) 🔮
On Halloween 1981, Albus Dumbledore made a decision that would change the course of history, concealing Harry Potter’s survival at the hands of Lord Voldemort underneath a Fidelius Charm. But when Harry comes of age in the Muggle world, Dumbledore realises too late that the fate of the world may depend on a boy who has never held a wand.
…+ these seven gems!
Sweeten to Taste by @bigblackdogfic // artwork by @babooshkart (Explicit, 51k) 🥘
It starts with Draco's buckwheat crepes with honeyed oranges. Or maybe it starts with his porridge with toasted walnuts and homemade apple butter. Or perhaps it starts with the cinnamon buns Draco made from scratch with mascarpone icing. Harry just knows he's hungry for more.
Game Changer by @the-denial-squad // artwork by @thelanguidcat (E, 69k) 🧹
A story of love and Quidditch, not necessarily in that order.
speak of the devil (and the devil shall appear) by @sophisticatedyet // artwork by @mad1492 and @fictional (E, 88k) 🧵🪡
Unbeknownst to anyone, Draco gets hit by a curse. Suddenly, Harry Potter is around a lot more than either of them want him to be.
Chasing Shadows by @manixzen // artwork by @avaeryn (Explicit, 93k) 🍸
The murder of Lucius Malfoy seems impossible—no cause of death, no traces of spell-work, no potions in his system. The only leads Harry and his partner have are the trail of missing wizards the deeper they go. That and the help of the victim’s estranged son who now spends his time bartending at a queer-friendly Muggle pub.
Bolts by @lqtraintracks // artwork by @slytherco (Explicit, 114k) 🤐
Harry joins the Hogwarts staff as the new History of Magic Professor, while Draco has already been teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts for the past year. When Samantha, a first year, is being bullied one day and throws a made-up Truth curse at her harasser, only to accidentally hit Harry instead, Harry becomes cursed to tell the truth, and not only that, he has to regularly tell it to Draco Malfoy.
Nor All That Glisters by @sweet-s0rr0w // artwork by @deancebra-art and @fantalf (Explicit, 110k) 🍀
Lonely and frustrated on house arrest, with no prospects for the future, Draco begins brewing Felix Felicis in an attempt to improve his lot. Just in the short term, of course. He isn’t a total idiot.
Dwelling on Dreams by @the-sinking-ship // artwork by @lkaet (Explicit, 135k) 📰
Draco thought he could avoid Potter for the duration of his brief return to England. He’d stick to his schedule and be back home in Paris, where he belonged, in a few short months. No trouble at all. He had plenty to occupy him, what with the opening of the London branch of his successful apothecary, his innovative research, drinks with Pansy, a backlog of unread potions periodicals.
reblog and make a wish!
this was removed from tumbrl due to “violating one or more of Tumblr’s Community Guidelines”, but since my wish came true the first time, I’m putting it back. :)
holy fuck, I didn’t expect this to work, I was like psh, whatever it’s just a quick reblog, but I wished my Dad would actually respond back to me AND HE FUCKING DID A FEW DAYS LATER, I GOT A FUCKING TEXT FROM MY DAD TODAY WHO HASN’T SPOKEN OR RESPONDED TO ME IN MONTHS HOLY FUCK WHAT IS THIS MAGIC IT WORKS.
WTF OKAY SO THIS SHOT ACTUALLY WORKS BECAUSE WHEN I WISHED, I HAD WISHED MY CRUSH WOULD LIKE ME BACK AND GUESS WHAT? I HAVE A BOYFRIEND NOW. WHAT THE HELLLLL?????
ok I’ve said this before but IM DOING IT AGAIN THE FIRST TIME I SAW THIS, MY WISH DID COME TRUE SO I REBLOGED AGAIN AND SAID IT IN THE TAGS BUT THEN I WISHED FOR SMTH ELSE AND IT LITERALLY LITERALLY HAPPENED LIKE A COUPLE DAYS LATER WHAT THE HELL SO NOW IM WRITING THIS HERE FOR YOU BC I DONT BELIEVE IN THIS CRAP BUT STILL IT’S AN AWFULLY BIG COINCIDENCE
THE BOY I FELL I LOVE WITH LEFT TO TRAVEL THE OTHER SIDE OF THE WORLD AND HAS BEEN GONE NOW FOR 3 MONTHS. WE HAVENT SPOKEN SINCE BECAUSE I DIDNT WANT TO MAKE HIM FEEL TRAPPED TO ME AND NOT ENJOY HIS TIME SO I WAITED FOR HIM TO CONTACT ME FIRST. I SAW THIS ON A PARTICULARLY LOW DAY WHEN I WAS MISSING HIM SO MUCH I CRIED FROM THE PAIN, GUYS I REALLY LOVE HIM, SO I THOUGHT MEH WHAT THE FUCK, AND WISHED HE WOULD JUST LET ME KNOW HE WAS OKAY.
no bUT THE LAST TIME I DID THIS SHIT I WISHED MEETING MY IDOL AND IT WAS RIGHT BEFORE I FCKING GOT THE FCKING EMAIL SAYING I WAS GOING TO MEET TAYLOR OH MY GOD
REBLOGGING AGAIN BC THE FIRST TIME I REBLOGGED THIS I WISHED TO GET OUT OF MY MISERABLE TOWN AND I MOVED TO NORTH CAROLINA (a whOLE NEW STATE!!!! FAR FAR AWAY) AND THEN I SAW THIS AGAIN AND I WISHED TO TRAVEL MORE AND GUESS WHAT LIL BUDDY! I WENT TO ENGLAND AND FRANCE AND NOW IM GOING TO THAILAND AND TAIWAN THIS SUMMER. SO NOW IM REBLOGGING AGAIN I SWEAR TO GOD THIS WORKS!!!
for @drarrymicrofic's prompt: Alpha. 1.9k words. I love wolves man, idk what to tell y'all. besties, if this ain't ur cup of tea, pretend u didn't see. unbetaed, so if there’s any errors, pretend u didn’t see those either :p
The first time Harry sees Malfoy after the war, he doesn’t understand why he looks so feverish, why he’s red in the face and panting, why he looks so out of sorts. Azkaban must have been one hell of a burden, even if he’d only been there a little over a month.
Harry does what he thinks is right, even if he’d spent most of the previous night sick with pre-emptive regret. He speaks in favour of Malfoy and makes peace with the whispers of doubt as he says he was sixteen, a child soldier like me, and I doubt justice will be served if we punish the Malfoy heir and not the people who put a sixteen-year-old in the position to consider murder a viable option in the first place.
Malfoy’s pupils are blown wide, open, hungry, as his sentence is read to the stuffy courtroom and the terms of his probation are explained, the stipulation for his freedom gifted like a curse. Not that Malfoy notices or cares, he looks like he’s somewhere else entirely.
Harry stares, heart pounding in his chest, palms sweaty because Malfoy’s eyes haven’t left his yet. He’s entranced, terrified – but then Malfoy’s swept away and the only thing that stays is the memory of Malfoy’s burning gaze.
*
Harry is three years into his Auror career when it happens. He’s bitten and the pain burns through him immediately, it feels like his head is exploding and his brain is melting. It is truly the worst mental strain he’s ever felt, and it is by far the most terrifying experience of his life.
When he wakes, he’s relived – somehow, the memory of some of the most painful experiences of his childhood have begun to pale in comparison to the boiling heat that now sits deep within his bones. And yet, there is relief in the shadows of his consciousness – because for the first time since the war, this pain belongs solely to him and his body and there is great strength found in being able to take full ownership of your hurt.
Lavender Brown greets him in this new life, a second rebirth, a third chance at living. She explains with a warm smile that she understands how he must be feeling, and he does not doubt her kindness or her words.
“You’ll go through the change, your scent is strong,” she explains, checking his vitals with the swish of her wand. “You can take Wolfsbane and suppress it or choose to go to a reserve and transform.”
“A reserve?”
“There are a few set up here in England and a few in Scotland, in magical forests. They’re relatively safe, but you’ll need to make sure the packs that are already present feel comfortable with your scent.”
“If they don’t?”
Lavender rolls up the sleeves of her pale green robes, the pinkish scarring wraps around her arms like vines of ivy, but her features soften when she answers. “They’ll try to kill you.”
*
Upon Lavender’s invitation, Harry goes to meet the members of the reserve before the full moon. Her reserve is close to Scotland, one she found in her Eighth year at Hogwarts when she desperately needed a home to call her own. Parvati greets them at the entrance dressed in clothing fit for running through the forest, tight and form fitting, easy to blend in with the dark, covered in a special wool that carries the scent of Lavender.
“My mate,” Lavender explains. “Most people introduce them as such.”
“I prefer wife,” Parvati says, linking arms with her lover. “But mate has a certain ring to it that I really like.”
Harry remembers the wedding, remembers the joy and tradition that was celebrated between them for their union and sees hints of it in Parvati’s dress. Henna paints her reddish-brown skin for tonight’s harvest celebration, a bindi between her brows expresses her status as a married woman, and her earrings and bangles chime with a joy that reminds Harry that he can be safe here, that he is welcome, that he’s allowed to see if this is a right fit for him.
“Marcus is the Elder Alpha –” Lavender gestures to a bronze-skinned man with greying hair who sits further away, providing a fair amount of space between himself and the pockets of crowds that circle tables of divinely scented food. “– Over there is his mate, Ja’carra.”
Harry turns to see a black woman sat a few feet away from Marcus watching him curiously, and Harry’s taken aback by her sweet scent. It’s not inviting, but it is a comforting welcome. Her hair is twisted into locs and peppered with gold jewellery, making her look heavenly. She’s beautiful, he thinks, and looks towards Marcus’ warning stare. His wood-scent is so strong, it feels like it’s everywhere, but it doesn’t feel like the threat he’s sure it could be if Harry were to step out of line as a guest in this territory.
Harry had experienced sensory overload the first few days after turning, having to adjust to his heightened sense of smell and hearing, but while he isn’t too fond of Marcus’ scent, he doesn’t feel it crawling against his insides the way he might of in the days following his bite and subsequent visit to hospital.
*
Harry eats with his hands and is less embarrassed than he thinks he should be, seeing how everyone is doing it with the comfort of a practice long formed into habit. The meat is practically raw, but Harry feels ravenous and devours it quickly.
“The food,” Harry begins, trying to slow down his bites. “Do you – is it?” Harry falters, his wording an anxious echo against his mind. Is it hunted by you? Harry wants to ask and hesitates for fear of being presumptuous.
“Hunted by the Alphas,” Lavender says between bites, sauce sliding down her glistening lips. “Cleaned and stored by the Betas.” She takes the back of her hand and wipes it across her mouth. Parvati, whose sat beside her, moves to help her wife clean the red-stained sauce from her lover’s lips. “Omegas prepare, and we all feast.”
“Like a symbiotic relationship almost,” Harry ponders, interested in the relationships that allow the reservoir to maintain itself, that has allowed it to flourish into the size it is now. Large pockets of were-folk sit on the grass or short cliffs that surround a waterfall not too far from them. People are laughing, and the air is scented light with the mirthful warmth of a trusting community of creatures.
“Yes, exactly.” Lavender nods her head, her coily hair flows in the wind and Harry recognizes her own Alpha scent. He almost wants to curl his lips, but doesn’t – she smells of a friend, an ally. “We all take care of each other.”
Harry likes the sounds of that, of them taking care of one another, of a community that is self-sufficient, allowing for self-realization through the interconnectedness of community. Long gone is the world of Aurors, politicians, and those disenfranchised by them. All that remains are beings who share the commonality of their existence and their desire to not be alone, to answer the question Harry has long since asked himself: what do we owe each other?
*
The first time Harry sees Draco Malfoy after turning is when Harry is being introduced to the different packs and allies that exist in the reservoir. He meets interesting looking people from all walks of life, and he enjoys the opportunity to hear their stories and feel the truth in their scent. It’s dizzying, but in a way, he finds it charming, feels drunk with the acknowledgement that they are all the same – that Harry is not alone in this.
“Would I be able to bring Ron and Hermione next time?”
“Of course.” Lavender shows off her canines. “Not every member of the pack can be Were, I’ll show you the accommodations we set up for non-transformative members of the pack,” she says, pointing towards her left, towards a fairy-lit pathway that must lead to the camping plots.
That’s when Harry catches the scent of honey, lavender, and myrrh – his head turned in the other direction, his nostrils flaring with the enticing reminder of a warm cup of tea, that makes him want to relax into the fire-ember warmth of a home his inner-wolf wants to call its own.
When Harry spots Draco, he blinks, tilting his head curiously at the sight before him. Malfoy wears a white fur coat, and a flimsy bit of material that only just about hides his privacy. He’s adorned by the bones of animals long since hunted, and his ears are decorated with silver jewels that catch the light and seem to reflect it outwards.
Draco feels the stare of an Alpha on him and turns, grey eyes cautiously curious. Harry feels calmed by the myrrh, soothed by the lavender, but his mouth waters at the scent of honey and his mind flashes with the image of Draco Malfoy bathed in the sticky sweetness of it.
“Potter,” Malfoy mutters, chest heaving and scent thickening as something salty licks at the back of Harry’s nostrils, making his throat water, making his body buzz with anticipation. “You’re –?”
“Were you one back then?” Harry asks, voice dropping, thickening, swimming with the heat of his desire. There is a part of him that’s all instinct and desire, that will take what it wants when it wants. That part has always existed, and he has always been good about tampering down that selfish side of him, but now there is a wolf that exists beside his own consciousness. The wolf takes what it wants when it wants to. There is very little room to reason with your inner-wolf’s desire, there is only the trained skill of delayed gratification. “Were you –”
Malfoy laughs, it rings through the air like windchimes in the wind. “Merlin,” he says, hand going to the back of his neck, cheeks flushing with a warmth that cannot be blamed on the non-alcoholic drink. “Yes, that was my first heat.”
Something crackles against Harry’s body, making his skin break out in gooseflesh, and Harry feels like he can almost see the electric anticipation that thickens the air between them. The world has already fallen away, but Harry is still vaguely aware enough to register the Were-folk surrounding them moving to give them the space to engage in this first meeting with a relative sense of privacy. They can all hear, but the courtesy is found in them acknowledging that this a moment of intimacy between an Alpha and his Omega.
Harry stares at Draco as the thought settles, as realisation dawns and the scent-high induced blur of Draco is cleared into the linear understanding that there is a part of him that wants to claim, to possess, but most importantly, to make a home with the man in front of him.
Draco stands slowly, pupils blown wide, cheeks still flushed the sweetest rosy red. He smells enticing, tantalising, and Harry is selfish in his want – drunk on the desire to hide this all for himself.
“Do you know the traditions?” Draco asks, standing right in front of Harry, chest just a breadth away, the heat of his pale skin soothing that esurient wolf that rattles against Harry’s mind, that only serves to tempt that same wolf further into its reckless need to own.
“Tell me,” Harry commands, voice a rasp that reverberates in his chest and scratches at his throat.
“I run,” Draco teases, pressing his chest into Harry’s. “You chase,” he says, lips at the shell of Harry’s ear. “If you catch me –” His voice is just above a whisper. “You get to keep me.” Draco kisses the spot where his neck meets his jaw, and then backs away slowly, eyes gleaming with mischief.
Trope List: Fake Dating: [10], Enemies to Lovers: [5] [9]
Trope Mashup List: Fairytale AU + First Kiss / Historical AU + Poorly Timed Confessions / Modern AU + Fake Dating: [2] [3] / Roommate AU + Innocent Physical Contact / Royal AU + Secret Relationship
Tummy aches
Turned into a ferret
Twister
Veela!Draco headcanons: [2] [3] [4]
What happens in the Potions closet stays in the Potions closet
Winter Prompts: [1] [40] [68] [78] [100]
Lamen:
Auguste finds out about the Regent
Auguste walks in on them
Auguste walks in on them at school
Casually Sleeping Together
Courtier makes sexual comment about Laurent [2]
Courting Traditions
Cuddling
Damen courts Laurent, Auguste freaking out
Damen gets Laurent a dog
Damen the human pillow
Drunk Laurent confesses Feelings
Drunk Laurent thinking of the Regent [2] [3]
Heir problem
High School + Royalty
Injured Laurent
Jealous Laurent
King’s Rising AU, Laurent doesn’t know who Damen is
Laurent thinks Damen is cheating on him
Leaked sex tape [Laurent’s POV]
Long distance
Okton
Post King’s Rising Fluff, Damen Injured
Professors
Reverse Bang 2019: [Memory] [Vask]
Roadtrip AU [2]
Role Reversal, Slave Laurent [2]
Roommate AU
Showing affection
Sleeping through the night
Soulmate AU
Special dates: Christmas [2019]
Talking about the Regent
Teenager Laurent and his massive crush on Damen [2]
It was the third time Draco’s phone had beeped in the last hour. He wasn’t going to answer it. He knew what it would say.
Hi Draco, do you fancy a drink tonight? Some of us are going down the pub. Would be nice to see you again. H
Draco, don’t know if you got my last message. Come down to the pub - Ron’s band is playing and Pansy says you’re not doing anything. H
Draco, are you okay? :(
Dracoooo. CMON. PLease don’t make me come get you, I’m in no state. xxxx :D
After the first four, Harry would only be drunker and less able to keep his little “x”s to himself. And if went down to the pub and watched Weasley’s ridiculous band play, Harry also wouldn’t be able to keep his hands to himself. Or his mouth. Or his opinion about what that should lead to. Draco learned that last time. And he wasn’t in any mood to get caught up in Harry’s drunkenly affectionate whirlwind and have to extricate himself again. The possibility of humiliation was too great.
The Glorious Saint Potter is popular, as expected, with all manner of witches, wizards and everyone inbetween. He’s probably dated half the professional Seekers in the European League, as well as a handful of models, actors and a single physiotherapist that Draco was stupid enough to introduce him to. Draco has dated his ex-wife, and made out with Harry. Once. And that’s it. Which is why he’s not going anywhere near the pub until Harry’s over whatever temporary fascination he’s having with Draco right now. If he plans on being friends with him for any length of time – and their lives are so entwined now – then there’s only one way to avoid the mortification of being found inadequate and then reminded of it for the rest of eternity. Draco’s going to keep his legs tightly crossed and his lips firmly sealed and his anti-apparition wards expertly deployed.
Which is why Harry, instead, tumbles through his Floo.
Draco jumps - literally bounces in his seat - where he’s sitting in his favourite armchair, his mouth falling open as he watches Harry get to his feet.
It takes a minute. Harry is so drunk he is unable to find his centre of gravity and has to balance on both hands before slowly straightening up and pushing his glasses back up his nose.
He grins at Draco. “You’re alive!” he says.
Draco regards him warily, letting his book fall shut and setting it aside. It knocks against his wine glass and Harry’s eyes fly to it. He sways on the spot and licks his lips, clearly tempted to dash over and throw the rest of Draco’s wine back.
Draco sighs and dramatically pinches the bridge of his nose. “What are you doing here?”
Harry’s face falls a bit. “You never replied to my messages. I got worried.”
“You got worried,” repeated Draco dryly. “Worried that I’d died, I assume?”
He grins. “No, I was just joking about that,” he says earnestly, waving a hand and shaking his head. Draco half expects him to explain the joke. Then: “Did you not check your phone this evening?”
Draco deliberates for a few beats, then says, “No, I did. I saw your messages.”
Harry looks crestfallen now. “And…you didn’t think to reply? Even if you didn’t want to come?”
“No.”
“Why didn’t you want to come?”
“Weasley’s band is terrible. I don’t know how you stand it.”
Harry scowls. “Is that your only excuse?”
“Excuse? I’d think that’s a perfectly legitimate reason not to go lounge around in a pitiful little pub.”
“Pitiful little pub? You loved the chips there last time.”
“Well, almost anyone can fry up a decent batch of chips, Potter.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Potter?”
“Yes.”
“Why?” Draco is smirking a bit; he can’t help himself. He wants to see how Harry might babble about how they should let bygones be bygones and call each other by their given names.
“Because that’s not what you called me after we stuck our tongues down each other’s throats,” Harry says with no finesse or dignity whatsoever and Draco’s face heats up so fast he’s a bit worried he might pass out or something.
“Have you no sense of tact?”
This time, Harry smirks and Draco is suddenly worried.
Harry - ripped jeans, Weasley’s band name on a t-shirt, solid black boots - struts forward. Draco is very, very worried.
Harry bends over Draco and places his hands on either side of him on the armrests, their faces so, so close. He reeks of beer. Draco wants to believe that it’s gross and unappealing; that Harry is unappealing.
But all Draco wants, as he stares first at the burning green gaze and then at the pink lips surrounded by dark stubble, is to kiss him.
Appealing and fucking moronic, and definitely, absolutely not worth the inner turmoil and anguish and frankly the embarrassment he’ll suffer if he gives into this pathetic attraction of his.
“Do you mind?” Draco drawls. He pushes Harry’s chest, forcing him away, and sidles out from beneath him so he can put some distance between them. “It’s called personal space, Potter. And you smell like a fucking brewery, by the way.”
“That’s so weird,” Harry says, frowning. And then he pretends to light up. “Oh, wait! I was just drinking beer. That must be it.”
“Ha, ha.”
“Wasn’t a joke.”
“Out, Potter.” He points at the Floo. “Go. I’m sick of you.”
“Well that’s kind of rude.”
Draco, again, pinches the bridge of his nose. Sloshed Harry is actually worse than sober Harry, so that’s saying something. Bit of an estimation of his own character, really, since he’s attracted to the idiot.
“Will you please leave?” Draco says finally, looking up again. “Seriously, you’re too drunk to be around.”
“Come on, Draco.” The sense of humourous irony is gone from Harry’s voice suddenly; he sounds drunk and frustrated now instead of drunk and sarcastic. Draco prefers the sarcasm, since at least it’s safe territory. “Why’re you being so difficult, huh? I thought we’d, like … moved past that, or whatever.”
“Moved past what?” Draco scoffs. “Our mutual loathing?”
“Again, we recently stuck our tongues down each other’s throats, so yes, I’d say we’ve moved past the loathing thing.” Harry lifts his arms, an open gesture of vulnerability that makes Draco sneer. He’s so fucking superior. “D’you need to insult me first or something? Go ahead. For real, it only turns me on when you insult me.”
“Then I shan’t,” says Draco. “Potter, you rakishly handsome, terribly funny, deeply treasured friend of mine, please, fuck off.”
Harry laughs, and collapses onto one of Draco’s (expensive, and now they’re going to smell like stale beer) delicate leather and burnished gold tete-a-tetes. “I’m still into it,” he says. “Must be your voice.”
“Shut up,” Draco murmurs. He’s always been terribly partial to a good flattering. It’s not one of his better qualities. “Shut all the way up.”
Harry frowns. “Not nice.”
“I’m not nice.”
“You are—”
“And we’re not together. We’ve kissed once, Potter. You can’t just disturb my evening at your leisure.“
“So far,” he says. “We’ve kissed once so far.”
“How astute,” Draco says.
Harry leans over the s-bend of the seat and pats the other cushion. “Come sit.”
“You’re pathetic.”
“Come sit next to me.”
Draco scowls, and turns away. Drunk Harry looks all kind of wide-eyed and beseeching when he says those things, like a cartoon lamb. Fucking twit.
“Potter,” he says, slowly. “Even if the idea of us fucking, or snogging, or whatever it is you want were anything but hideously imprudent, it wouldn’t happen. You’re drunk. Please leave. Go trip over your own feet at the Weasley hovel, or something.”
“But I was drunk last time too,” Harry said, with all the seriousness of a man who thought that was the only mountain he had to climb in this argument. Then, with a smug tilt of his lips, he gestured left of the table actually holding Draco’s wine glass and bragged, “You’re just mad I had more fun drinking than you.”
Draco licked his teeth and crossed his arms. Unbelievable. “Well, Potter, seeing as how you’ve drunk a barrel by yourself and I failed to finish my first glass before you interrupted my evening, I would say your assessment is fair.”
He tried to ignore how brittle he felt because of course, Harry wouldn’t expect them to both be sober for this to continue. Of course.
Harry’s clumsy efforts to push himself off his seat and toddle over to the wall Draco was leaning against only reinforced their difference in mood.
“Draco, you don’t have to play hard to get,” Harry said, placing a fist on the wall behind Draco’s head. For balance more than seduction, probably, but it still sent him into a tizzy. “Don’t you see — I already got you.” The warm hand that clutched his earlobe would’ve been awkward on anyone else but Draco found it charming. He was fucked.
“Yes, well.” Draco licked his dry lips. “I would appreciate it if you let me go. I’m not one of your Golden Snitches.”
Without an ounce of tact in his body, Harry followed the path of Draco’s tongue. Then leered up at him. “Yeah? Cause your eyelashes, they do that fluttering thing like wings,” he said, oh so smoothly. Before he ruined it. “When you splash tea in your face because you lift up your cuppa too fast.”
“What the fuck, Potter?” Potter repeated in a whiney falsetto. “I’m trying to pay you a compliment” Shifting close enough that Draco could feel the heat from Potter’s body all along his front, Potter’s eyes went half-lidded as he breathed in. “You smell nice.”
“I bathe.”
“I didn’t say you smell clean.” Potter exhaled, and Draco fought a shiver as the released breath brushed against the sensitive skin of his neck, just above his collar where his pulse raced. “I can tell you’ve been out all day, doing… whatever it is you do. I’d like to know what it is, if we’re going to keep kissing. But you… There’s something earthy about how you smell, like the Quidditch pitch after it rains or grass when it’s covered in dew.”
“I smell like dirt.”
“You smell,” Potter said, and this time, he brushed his nose, then his lips, against Draco’s skin, “like something I want to put my hands on. Something I want to get dirty with.”
Gathering the tattered remains of his sanity, Draco stepped out of the partial prison of Potter’s body leaning against the wall. He hurried back to his wine, drinking a too-large sip of the shimmering red. The alcohol burned in his throat, but not nearly as hot as his blood through his veins.
“Where are you going?” Potter asked, sounding petulant. “I’m starting to think you don’t want me here.”
“I don’t, you imbecile.” Draco rounded on him, wine sloshing dangerously in his glass. Potter still leaned against the wall, eyes dark and trousers slightly tented in the front—not that Draco was looking. “I don’t want anything to do with you.”
Potter followed after, his drunken gaze sharper than it had been at any other time that night. “That’s not what you said last time.”
“I was drunk last time, Potter,” Draco snaps, ignoring the flare of hurt in Potter’s eyes. What’s it to him if the Golden Boy gets his feelings hurt a little? Could do him good, to feel rejected for once. “And I most certainly am not drunk now. Unlike you. I’d rather not be part of the oh-I-didn’t-mean-it-this-was-such-a-mistake show you’re bound to put on as soon as you sober up; and more importantly, I don’t sleep with drunk people when I’m sober. I prefer my men consenting, thank you very much.” He turns his back firmly and takes a sip from his glass, willing the slight tremble from his hands. Bloody, fucking, Harry sodding Potter.
Potter is quiet behind him, and Draco shifts a bit, feeling his shoulders draw up defensively. He hates being stared at like this. “What is it,” he finally snaps.
“You think I’m only here because I’ve been drinking,” Potter observes, suddenly sounding far too coherent for a man who smelt as strongly of barmat as he did. “That’s what’s going on. You think I’m drunk and that’s the only reason I’ve come over. I’d like to remind you, Malfoy, that I started texting you when I was sober. You’re the one that didn’t reply.”
“And you can’t take a hint from that?” Draco is not going to turn around. He’s not.
Harry’s too close behind him, and his hand is warm at the small of Draco’s back. The hair on his arms stands up. “What can I do to convince you?” he asks softly.
Draco turns to stare at him in bewilderment before he can stop himself. “What?”
Harry’s looking at him steadily, eyes clear. “I’ll respect your concerns,” he says with a small grin, and that doesn’t clear anything up for Draco. “Where’s your kitchen? I’m going to make us some cheese toasties.”
“It’s just ahead, but— Potter, what?”
Potter is already striding down the hall, and by the time Draco snaps out of it and hustles to follow him he’s rummaging through Draco’s fridge. Draco definitely does not look at his arse as he’s bent over. “I’m making us food, and we’re going to eat and drink water and have polite conversation, and when I’m sober, we’ll try again,” he says, voice slightly muffled.
Draco’s jaw drops and he barely is able to stop himself from squawking unappealingly. His knuckles are white around his wineglass.
Seriously, what?
passing it to @the-starryknight :) if you’re able to!
Wineglass still in hand, Draco followed Potter to the kitchen, watching indignantly as he set a small bottle of creamer and a packet of cheese on the counter and shut the fridge.
“Don’t touch that,” Draco snapped, watching the way that Potter’s shirt rode up appealingly, revealing only the barest sliver of a sharp hipbone under his white button-up. It wasn’t fair, parading into his kitchen like that, drunk and untouchable. And he wouldn’t touch. Draco swallowed hard, pressing further into the room. He set the wine on the table and braced himself against the solid wood table, arms crossed.
“You have an actual breadbox,” Potter said, putting his grimy Gryffindor hands on everything in sight. Draco scoffed, not deigning to answer. Of course he had a proper breadbox. What heathen left his loaf on the counter?
“Don’t touch that,” Draco huffed as Potter reached for a pan, clicking the burner on with a tap of his wand. Draco certainly didn’t let his gaze linger on the possessive curve of his fingers over the shaft of the wand.
“Touch what?” Potter asked, reaching for the cafetière in the back corner of the counter, sliding it out with a scrape over Draco’s gorgeous granite countertops.
“That!” Draco snapped, shoving past him to protect his little percolator. He pressed his hands over its smooth glass surface, glaring at Potter. “At least let me do it before you manage to destroy my entire kitchen.”
He grabbed the Taylor’s from the cabinet, spooning several heaping servings of coffee grounds into the pot. He sent a steaming Aguamenti into the pot at precisely the right temperature and let it sit to steep. He ran a hand through his neat hair, staring at the coffeemaker instead of at Potter, and thinking longingly of his abandoned book in the sitting room.
“Alright,” Potter said, and shifted out of the way, brandishing that wand again for a quick Accio to summon the spatula. He put a piece of toast in the pan, and raised an eyebrow at Draco. “Am I eating alone?”
Draco lifts his chin. The action distorts his reflection in the cafetière’s stainless domed lid, elongating his perfectly patrician nose. “I’m not hungry.”
His stomach growls, the traitor.
Harry chuckles and adds far too many slices of cheese to the pan. He leans close to Draco, shoulder brushing shoulder, his hoppy stench diminished by the aroma of the toast. In the coffeemaker lid, his reflection is all teeth and messy hair.
“I promise it won’t suck,” he cajoles.
“Oh, I assure you it will.”
Harry scoffs. “I’ll have you know I’m a brilliant cook.” He catches a glob of liquefied cheese on a fingertip and delivers it to his mouth with a moan.
“You’re a sloppy cook,” Draco says, cheeks warming at Harry’s continued groans and finger sucking. “And uncouth.”
Harry shivers a grin onto his lips. “Bloody hell, Malfoy, keep talking.”
Draco shifts, a slow deliberate turn that brings them face-to-infuriatingly-gorgeous-face. Harry’s smile fades, and he stills. They’re so close, Draco can count the individual hairs in a small patch of dark stubble at the oil-glistening corner of Harry’s mouth.
The bread sizzles.
He can trace the whorls of the dirty fingerprints clouding the lens of Harry’s ridiculous glasses.
The cheese melts.
He can almost get lost in the gold flecks shining in Harry’s stupidly green eyes.
Almost.
“And I promise,” Draco says silkily, “it will suck. You forgot the butter, you clod.”
Harry’s glazed eyes widen and flare evergreen. “Shit!” He bumbles and bangs at the stovetop, and Draco smugly presses the plunger on the coffee with satisfying force.
He’s still smiling to himself, so pleased is he with his wit and brilliance, that when he opens the cupboard to retrieve two coffee mugs, he’s forgotten about his novelty cups. He’s amassed quite a collection because Pansy, the bint, insists on gifting Draco the mugs for every bloody event—his birthday, Christmas, a Tuesday.
Never mind that he’s only missing two cups to make his collection complete.
Tuesday can’t come soon enough.
“Is that…?” Harry says from behind Draco’s shoulder. “Is that my face on those cups?”
Harry reached around and opened it—despite Draco’s attempt at stopping it, but the heat of the man pressing up against Draco was a tad distracting—and then he was holding one of the cups.
Harry raised an eyebrow.
“You look better on the cups,” Draco snapped.
“Because I’m half-naked?”
Draco sputtered. “As if! I was trying to—I didn’t buy it! Pansy is the—I never used any!” Then, belatedly, “At least, not the ones with your nipples out!”
Harry peered into the cup where his nipples were out. “There’re coffee stains.”
“Oh, shut it!”
And of course Harry decided to use that one, and picked another where Harry was flashing a charming smile for Draco.
The toasties were good, despite the late butter addition. Through his mouthful of cheese and bread, Harry said. “Do you remember the concert we went to?”
“Which one? We’ve been to a lot. Do you mean the angry Russian piano or the teenage pop music?”
Harry grinned like he’d won. “Hm. What about the museums and art galleries?”
“The ones in England?”
Harry shrugged. “Or the ones in Italy, Egypt, France, Japan—but do you see my point?”
“That you have a shit memory?”
“That I have always enjoyed spending time with you, even before we stuck our tongues down each other’s throat, ” Harry said. “And I’m not going to stop enjoying your company.”
Draco took a sip of coffee. “That’s grand.”
It was subtle, but Harry’s smile fell a little. “That doesn’t count as anything?”
It really didn’t. Draco wasn’t worried about that. He was worried that Harry would decide—after Draco was in too deep—that he didn’t want Draco, after all.
“No, Potter, for your information, none of those counted.” Draco keeps his voice cool despite the swirling emotions in his gut.
“What about when we kissed?” Harry’s starting to sound more sober which does not bode well for Draco. He’s also got a self-satisfied grin on his face and that won’t do. “I know we had both been drinking, but Draco, I felt the way you trembled in my arms.”
Draco let’s out a laugh, a true laugh, at that.
“Potter it was raining. I was soaked and cold.” He takes extreme satisfaction in the way the smile falls off Harry’s face.
“Look,” Draco starts, trying desperately to get Potter out of his kitchen, out of his life before he becomes necessary, “will you leave if I concede friendship?”
Harry pouts and Draco does not find it charming.
“I’ll leave if you go on a date with me.” He takes a bite out of his toastie and, like the heathen he is, says mid-chew, “A real date. Something we both agree on.”
“No,” Draco responds. “I will not be blackmailed in my own kitchen.”
“You’ll be blackmailed somewhere else?”
Rolling his eyes, Draco lets out a frustrated huff. “I won’t be blackmailed anywhere, much less by someone as pissed as you currently are.”
“Then I’ll win you over with reason.”
“Why do you want to win me over?” Draco shouts, finally losing his temper. “We’re not mates! We, as you so crudely put it, stuck out tongues down each other’s throats once. I do not understand why you’re so insistent.”
Harry throws his hands up in the air. “Because I fancy you, you berk! Because you make me laugh and I enjoy spending time with you and I dream about your sexy fucking posh accent and you and Astoria split up but she only has nice things to say about you and I’m not nearly as drunk as I was.” Harry takes a big gulp of coffee, wincing when it inevitably burns his mouth.
“And I think we could have something…” he trails off. “Nice.”
“Nice,” Draco repeated. “Potter, I’m sure anything we’d have would be about as nice as two ill-tempered Kneazles shut in a box together. We get into an argument every time we’re in each other’s company.”
“Not every time,” Harry protested earnestly.
“Yes, we do. And those trips you mentioned were all disasters. Don’t you remember you threw your guide book at me in Cairo?”
“I threw it at the bathroom door. You spent two hours in there and we missed our Portkey to Giza.”
“I was applying sunblock potion. You know how easily someone of my complexion would burn in the desert.”
“Yeah, well you stormed out on me the moment we arrived in Tokyo!” Harry countered, slamming down the mug with the picture of his half-naked self on it.
“Because you accidentally booked us in a love hotel! A love hotel, Potter, where people go to—” Draco made a disgusted sound. “See? We’ve been fighting from the moment you barged into my flat. And now my kitchen’s a mess.”
Draco stood to take his plate to the sink, relieved to turn his back on Harry and his remorseful expression.
“I’ll clean up,” Harry said quietly. “And you got a cheese toasty out of it, didn’t you?”
“I wasn’t even hungry,” Draco grumbled.
Harry’s chair made an awful scraping sound as he pushed it back from the table. A pair of warm hands gripped Draco’s hips.
“I offered you something else besides food, Draco, remember?” Harry murmured. He pressed the full length of his body against Draco’s back. “I’m a bit more sober now. And I mean it. I really do fancy you.”
Draco inhaled sharply when Harry had the audacity to slide one buttery hand around to the front of Draco’s trousers. Ugh, it was probably leaving grease stains on the fabric. Harry was obviously not as sober as he thought if he was still saying ridiculous things like that to Draco. Best stall a bit to let the coffee do its work.
“All right,” Draco said, taking hold of Harry’s wrist to pull it away. “You take care of the washing up, and then I’m all yours. Don’t forget to sweep all those crumbs off the floor and clean the table, too. I’ll be in the sitting room. If you’re still feeling amorous, that is.”
He slipped out of Harry’s reach and left the kitchen before Harry could say a word.
Draco returned to the sitting room and picked up his book, a Muggle werewolf romance Pansy insisted he read. He was only 40 pages in and he’d already read the word moist more times than one person ought to in a lifetime. He sent a wistful thought to his wine glass sitting on the kitchen table, which usually made the reading more bearable, but there was no way he’d be going back for it. He needed space from Harry and his amorous behaviour.
He knew how easy it would be to get overwhelmed by arresting green eyes and a too-eager Harry fucking Potter. Especially once he was sober. He needed to put his defenses back up—he couldn’t let himself remember how soft Harry’s hair had felt when they’d kissed or the way Harry always got pillow marks on his cheeks from sleeping on his stomach. He couldn’t, not if he wanted to keep his heart intact.
And that was the crux of the matter, wasn’t it? It’d be as easy as breathing to give his heart away, but he couldn’t be sure Harry wouldn’t break it. Maybe not tomorrow, maybe not in a year, but one day, he might look at Draco and find him wanting. And Draco wouldn’t be able to bear it—it would crush him like nothing else before. So, it’d be best not to put himself in a position to be hurt in the first place.
Draco turned back to his book, intent upon letting thoughts of Harry Potter drift like waves of sand from the shore.
And it worked, until Harry cleared his throat and forced Draco to acknowledge him. Draco looked up from his book, swallowing as he met Harry’s intense, entirely sober gaze.
“I’m sober. The coffee and cheese toastie helped, but I cast a Sobering Charm just to be safe. I didn’t want you to have any excuses. Don’t you understand?” He looked at Draco like he was a puzzle to be solved. “How I feel has nothing to do with whether or not I’ve had a few drinks. This is about you”—he emphasized this by pointing his index finger too close to Draco’s face—“and me.” He pointed to his chest. “I’m sober and I’m still feeling…how did you put it? Oh right, amorous. So, you tell me, Draco, what does that mean?”
“It means you’re being annoying, Potter.” Draco drawled out monotonously, rolling his eyes at him.
With an inelegant snort, Harry picked up the book Draco was reading and started to flip through the pages making weird faces. Draco, abashed leapt forward, snatching the book away from his hands, scowling at him.
“Have you not a modicum of respect for a person’s privacy Potter?!”
“For a guy who doesn’t do feelings, you sure are invested in this genre.” He grins at Draco.
“I’m not! This– Pansy gave it to me!”
“But you’re the one reading it, no?”
Draco threw him a murderous glare, putting the book away.
“Why read about it Draco when you can have the hands on experience instead?,” he added huskily, closing the distance between them, “the whole show with a front row seat next to me.”
Draco swallowed thickly, entranced by Harry’s fiery gaze, the smoothness of his voice and their close proximity. Clearing his throat, he sat back on his armchair glaring at Harry. Oh how he wanted to kiss wipe that stupid smirk off of his stupid face.
He had a feeling this was going to be one long night. Sober Harry was more difficult to handle than drunk Harry and Draco did not like it one bit.
Potter and his unpredictable, reckless behaviour brought nothing but trouble with himself. Draco’s heart was far too fragile to be passed into the hands of someone like Harry yet Draco’s heart only wanted Harry.
“Pot– Harry, honestly, it’s late! I don’t have the patience or the will to deal with whatever this is. Can we please do this another time?”
“No. You’re just trying to avoid this conversation.” Harry called out his bluff as he rounded up on him and took a seat on the floor.
“Stellar observation skills Potter.”
He smiled and placed a tentative hand on Draco’s knee as Draco tried his best to ignore the butterflies fluttering in his belly, keeping his face as stoic as possible, worried if he squirmed even a little, he’d end up in Harry’s lap.
“Why are you so intent on proving that all of this means nothing?” Harry asked earnestly as he leaned in, pulling Draco’s hand in his own, green eyes shining behind the glass frames and for the first time, Draco considered coming clean and confessing his fears to him.
He mindlessly registeres the rough caresses of Harry’s calloused thumb on his skin as his thoughts wander back to the night they hooked up, how alive he had felt in Harry’s arms, how safe and inexplicably warm Harry made him feel despite the circumstances they were in. How could he ever forget that?
“Why won’t you just say yes?”
“Because!” Draco snaps, walking away from Harry and his soft touches towards the fireplace, watching the flames dance in silence.
“Because what Draco?”
He turns and studies Harry’s face, takes in his earnest expression, feels the way his heart completely melts at the sight before him, how his fingers twitch at his sides to pull the bloody git close and run his hands through his wild, untamed hair and kiss him until his lungs give out but merlin knows he can’t. Well, he could but he shouldn’t.
The reckless part of his heart is eager to jump at the chance of dating Harry Potter and living his teenage dream but the more sensible part is screaming at him to run away from his flat and from Harry. His self preservation instincts kicking in, forcing him to flee to safe, familiar grounds.
But he couldn’t, not when Harry was sitting there looking at him with so much hope and want in his eyes. It felt too real for Draco to continue lying, to keep pretending that this — whatever it was between them — wasn’t real.
“Because,” he said turning his back on Harry and drawing in a deep breath to calm his racing heart, “–because it’s better not to have it at all than to have it and then lose it.”
Draco sat heavily in the armchair and picked at the trim while Harry frowned at him, cross-legged on the hearth rug. Maybe he’d work himself into a huff and go back out the Floo behind him. Maybe he didn’t need to respond at all.
“You’ve already sort of got me,” Harry whispered, thumbs tracing lines in the rug. “I mean, I booked us a room at a love hotel, for Merlin’s sake.”
“You didn’t-“
“I knew,” Harry interrupted. Draco’s gaze snapped up at the admission. “Well, vaguely. I didn’t think it would be so… utilitarian.”
Draco fought a smirk and lost. “They did put roses in the room.”
Harry’s tight smile confused him. “I brought the roses. And you always pre-approve our lodging.”
“I…” Draco started, but faltered.
“No, I like it.” Harry crawled up in front of him, knees between Draco’s bare feet. His weight shifted uneasily side to side, earlier bravado gone. “I like going on dates with you. Even if I’m the only one on a date.”
“You’re… what?” Draco swallowed past a tightness in his throat and ignored the nervous sweat that stuck his fingertips to the book’s pages.
Harry leaned forward, hot palms resting tentatively on Draco’s knees.
“I’ve been dating you for the better part of a year.” Harry’s hands gripped behind Draco’s knees, nudging them wider as he leaned forward.
Draco’s breath came fast. “We haven’t-“
Harry rubbed his chin on Draco’s thigh; coarse stubble on soft wool.
“I didn’t sit through La Bohème in Milan for my own benefit.” Harry chuckled wryly, cheek resting on Draco’s thigh.
“Nor did I arrange a historical tour of Boulevard Voltaire by descendants of Circus Arcanus for myself. And the Alchemy historian in Giza took forever to find. Pity.”
Draco peeled the book from his clammy grasp and set it on the table. Harry watched Draco’s hands, biting the inside of his lip in thought.
“Why?” Draco croaked.
“I like the way your cheeks flush when you’re excited,” Harry licked his lips and met his gaze. “Like now.”
Draco’s lips parted to argue, but the scarlet flush creeping up his neck was a dead giveaway. Harry’s hands slid higher, pressing Draco’s trousers against his hardening length. Draco’s breath shuddered out at the touch.
“Decide,” Harry whispered.
Draco nodded, then gasped as Harry unbuttoned his trousers. The zip slid soundlessly.
reblog and make a wish!
this was removed from tumbrl due to “violating one or more of Tumblr’s Community Guidelines”, but since my wish came true the first time, I’m putting it back. :)
holy fuck, I didn’t expect this to work, I was like psh, whatever it’s just a quick reblog, but I wished my Dad would actually respond back to me AND HE FUCKING DID A FEW DAYS LATER, I GOT A FUCKING TEXT FROM MY DAD TODAY WHO HASN’T SPOKEN OR RESPONDED TO ME IN MONTHS HOLY FUCK WHAT IS THIS MAGIC IT WORKS.
WTF OKAY SO THIS SHOT ACTUALLY WORKS BECAUSE WHEN I WISHED, I HAD WISHED MY CRUSH WOULD LIKE ME BACK AND GUESS WHAT? I HAVE A BOYFRIEND NOW. WHAT THE HELLLLL?????
ok I’ve said this before but IM DOING IT AGAIN THE FIRST TIME I SAW THIS, MY WISH DID COME TRUE SO I REBLOGED AGAIN AND SAID IT IN THE TAGS BUT THEN I WISHED FOR SMTH ELSE AND IT LITERALLY LITERALLY HAPPENED LIKE A COUPLE DAYS LATER WHAT THE HELL SO NOW IM WRITING THIS HERE FOR YOU BC I DONT BELIEVE IN THIS CRAP BUT STILL IT’S AN AWFULLY BIG COINCIDENCE
THE BOY I FELL I LOVE WITH LEFT TO TRAVEL THE OTHER SIDE OF THE WORLD AND HAS BEEN GONE NOW FOR 3 MONTHS. WE HAVENT SPOKEN SINCE BECAUSE I DIDNT WANT TO MAKE HIM FEEL TRAPPED TO ME AND NOT ENJOY HIS TIME SO I WAITED FOR HIM TO CONTACT ME FIRST. I SAW THIS ON A PARTICULARLY LOW DAY WHEN I WAS MISSING HIM SO MUCH I CRIED FROM THE PAIN, GUYS I REALLY LOVE HIM, SO I THOUGHT MEH WHAT THE FUCK, AND WISHED HE WOULD JUST LET ME KNOW HE WAS OKAY.
no bUT THE LAST TIME I DID THIS SHIT I WISHED MEETING MY IDOL AND IT WAS RIGHT BEFORE I FCKING GOT THE FCKING EMAIL SAYING I WAS GOING TO MEET TAYLOR OH MY GOD
REBLOGGING AGAIN BC THE FIRST TIME I REBLOGGED THIS I WISHED TO GET OUT OF MY MISERABLE TOWN AND I MOVED TO NORTH CAROLINA (a whOLE NEW STATE!!!! FAR FAR AWAY) AND THEN I SAW THIS AGAIN AND I WISHED TO TRAVEL MORE AND GUESS WHAT LIL BUDDY! I WENT TO ENGLAND AND FRANCE AND NOW IM GOING TO THAILAND AND TAIWAN THIS SUMMER. SO NOW IM REBLOGGING AGAIN I SWEAR TO GOD THIS WORKS!!!
Hello friends! I finally put together all the #drarry reclists I’ve been making lately, and this master post is now linked on my bio. I’ll try my best to update the lists regularly. Don’t forget to shower these authors with love & appreciation! Happy readings :)
Tropes:
A/B/O
Advent
Amortentia
Angst 1 | Angst 2 | Angst 3 | Angst 4 | Angst 5
Animagus
Arranged marriage & Accidental bonding
Break up make up
Case fics
Clubbing | Dancing | Coming out
Comfort fics 1 | Comfort fics 2
Courtship
Creature fics | Werewolf Harry + Veela Draco
Dark fics | Dark Drarry
Draco POV | Draco in the Muggle World
Enemies to lovers 1 | 2 | 3
Established relationship 1 | 2 | 3 | Reckless proposals
Epic fics with high stakes
Fake dating | Secret relationship
Female Drarry
Fluff 1 | Fluff 2 | Fluff 3
Found family
Friends to lovers | Friends with Benefits | Strangers to friends to lovers
Healer!Draco + Auror!Harry
Hitmen AU
Hogwarts 8th year: Reclist 1 | Reclist 2
Hogwarts Professors
Holiday trips
Humor
Hurt/Comfort
In Vino Veritas
Mpreg | Kid fic | Single parenting
Magical houses & sentient Hogwarts
Major character death
Miscommunication
Movie/TV AU | Non-magical | Historical | Hanahaki | Merman
Mystery | Noir-esque fics | Horror
Odd jobs
Only one bed | Nightmares
Parseltongue
Party games
Pets
Poly/Open relationship
Post-war struggles | Redemption Arc
Quidditch
Roommates
Sex shop
Slow burn 1 | Slow Burn 2
Soulmates & Fuck or Die | Non-explicit soulmate AU
Texting
Time travel
Wizarding Politics
5 + 1 | 9 + 1
Characters:
Ace Drarry | Trans Drarry
Dark Harry | Powerful Harry | Head Auror Harry | Recluse Harry
Draco fixing things | Draco cooking
Down and out Draco | Out and proud Draco | Reserved Draco
French speaking Draco | Scholar Draco
Protective Harry | Protective Draco
Jealous Harry | Jealous Draco
Pining Harry | Pining Draco | Flirting
Smitten Harry | Oblivious Harry obsessed with Draco
Draco & Luna | Harry’s friends | Supportive Ron | Teddy | Original characters | Narcissa | House elves | Charlie | Snape | BAMF Ron & Hermione | Weasleys appreciation | Ginny
Personal favorites:
50k+ fics | Fics that give me chills | Oldies (2000-2010) (2011-2015) | All-time faves | Smut 1 & 2 | Hurtfest 2020 | Short fics 1 & 2 | Fics that made me cry | Popular tropes | G and T works | Long T-rated fics | Bedtime reads
Reblogging this lil monster because I spent the whole night updating it with the recent lists! Not sure if this format still works now there are so many tropes, let me know your thoughts. You can also check the other lists here: SMUT, RARE PAIRS, DRARRY FOR BEGINNERS (all linked on my bio post).
