#p1013

Dennis creevey was also a teacher of sorts and he was very mean to draco

I think that there was some Neville Harry in the past but honestly I may be mixing things up

Neville was sleeping with Dennis creevey

Hope you can find it

We believe you are looking for Can't Afford to Fall by p1013 (100k, E)

for fics, i just read the space between by p1013 (@p1013) earlier today and it was great. bed sharing, thigh fucking. horny steve, nervous eddie (one of my favourite dynamics that i don't see enough of!!).

seems to satisfy by peevee is fun. steve can't get hard, eddie helps out. i love shit like that lol.

for authors, Kostas (@kostaskostaskostashas) writes some really fun steddie fics (such as thickfreakness- steve gets facefucked in a grimy bathroom)

And I'll use you as a warning sign That if you talk enough sense, then you'll lose your mind

Talk some sense to me

— I Found, Amber Run

Title: At the Doorway, On the Stair Author: @dwell-the-brave Artist: @p1013 Pairing(s): Harry/Draco Other Key Characters: Narcissa Malfoy Rating: Teen Word Count: 30k Art Medium: Digital Era: Post-Hogwarts, EWE Content/Warnings: Past Character Death, Substance Abuse, Potions as Substance Abuse, potions as a form of self-medication, Missing Persons, Historical Death, spooky vibes, PTSD, Night Terrors, self-induced sleep deprivation, Horror, Bisexual Harry Potter, Panic Attacks, PTSD-related aggression (minor), things that go bump in the night, Drinking, Survivor Guilt, POV Harry Potter, Ex-Auror Harry Potter, Mystery, Case Fic, Unusual Career, Gothic Horror, Pining, Getting Together, Kissing, Malfoy Manor Summary: A year after Draco Malfoy goes missing, his mother has one last option—Harry Potter. Having left the Auror department and made a name for himself as a Private Investigator, Harry cannot help but get involved in the disappearance of Draco Malfoy. Will he discover the truth about what happened? And what could be causing all the strange disturbances at Malfoy Manor? Author’s Notes: First of all, I would like to thank our wonderful Mods for running a fantastic fest! I’m so excited to see what my fellow writers have created out of the amazing artwork we were blessed with.

This is my first foray into anything horror-related. I’m a big fan of books with houses that are just a little bit creepy, places where a chill breeze isn’t just a result of bad insulation, and where things go bump in the night. I hope, reader, that while you may not have been too scared, you did get a chill up your spine while reading this.

Many thanks to p1013 for creating the amazing art you see in this fic, and for also beta reading with a week to go. Thank you for your encouragement and your guidance. Artist’s Notes: This was so much fun to work on! Thank you to the H/D Reverse Bang Mods for hosting the fest, and HUGE thank you to my author, who took this image and RAN with it. Also thank you to my husband who was kind enough to let me use him as reference when the internet failed me. For a guy who's not in fandom, he sure puts up with a lot.

FIC AND ART POST ON AO3

Author: p1013

Summary: The ceiling doesn't hold any answers, but there are cobwebs scattered across the corners with shadows tangled in their threads. The rug against his back is rough and scratchy, threadbare and devoid of colours other than various shades of brown. Harry takes it all in, absorbs the dingy and depressed state of his home. There's a pointed moment of decision, a note about to be played, a silence about to end, and then he rolls to his feet and sets to cleaning.

It's the first constructive thing he's done in years.

Length: 17,048 words

JEN. OF COURSE I KNOW YOU. JEN. HOW I HAVE MISSED YOU. look at these horny idiots, i swear i was watching Bridgerton and was like these are idiots and i love them

i am late to the Bridgerton party, i was like wait, THEY HAVE ANIMOSITY?? you know, that is my jam. like this has been lovely and SO GOOD TO SEE YOU AGAIN, srsly i haven't see many mutuals as of late.

A Different Kind of Meaning

p1013 @p1013

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Narcissa Black Malfoy & Harry Potter Characters: Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Narcissa Black Malfoy, Kreacher (Harry Potter) Additional Tags: Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Auror Harry Potter, Ex-Auror Harry Potter, Lawyer Draco Malfoy, Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, Malfoy Manor, Magical Homes, a love poem to home renovation, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, Blow Jobs, Getting Back Together, Frottage, Mutual Masturbation, Handyman Harry Potter, minor original character death, POV Harry Potter, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fanart

Summary:

The ceiling doesn’t hold any answers, but there are cobwebs scattered across the corners with shadows tangled in their threads. The rug against his back is rough and scratchy, threadbare and devoid of colours other than various shades of brown. Harry takes it all in, absorbs the dingy and depressed state of his home. There’s a pointed moment of decision, a note about to be played, a silence about to end, and then he rolls to his feet and sets to cleaning. It’s the first constructive thing he’s done in years.

Excerpt:

He’s burning up. The hands slinking their way under the hem of his jumper are thin and long, their touch tender but with a bite. Nails drag over his muscled back, and he arches into the painful caress.

“Like that, Potter?”

Sharp teeth bite at the cords of his neck, and Harry gasps. He doesn’t want to think right now, wants to drown in the heat and desire curling low in his gut.

So he pulls Draco closer, lets his body speak because he can’t.

He leans back against the cold stone wall and Draco follows. He breathes against the skin of Harry’s neck, his voice a wicked murmur that leaves Harry shaking.

“What do you want?” Draco’s voice is soft, though his touch is hard.

“Anything,” Harry gasps. “Whatever you want.”

Draco’s voice doesn’t shake when he says, “I want you on your knees.” But when Harry drops to the floor in a boneless rush, even gravity too slow for the speed he desires, Draco’s hands do.

Harry pulls aside Draco’s robes, nestles his face in the space between Draco’s waistband and the bottom of his jumper. The white shirt beneath smells like starch and musk, and Harry presses an open mouthed kiss to the fabric, leaving a wet mark behind.

“Fuck.” Draco’s voice feels distant. “You’re desperate for it, aren’t you?”

He is, but Harry can’t speak, his mouth too full of want. He trails his hands up Draco’s thighs, the fabric of his trousers clinging to Harry’s rough palms so that Draco’s ankles peek out from beneath the cuffs before disappearing when Harry reaches for Draco’s belt instead.

It whispers through the loops, the buckle rattling as it settles near Draco’s hip. Harry presses his nose to Draco’s fly, leaves just enough room for his hands to work the zip down, and breathes in the smell of hunger and cold night air.

There are no words now, just quiet curses from Draco’s panting mouth. Harry uses his hands to say things instead. Gentle, teasing touches to apologize for past hurts. His tongue trailing over skin, a plea for forgiveness. The bite of the floor against his knees is a demand for penance. His mouth and lips and teeth are used to bring forth gasps and murmurs of pleasure instead of sharp rebuke and anger. The acrid tang of Draco on his tongue is liquor, hot and burning as it pours down his throat in slow, even swallows.

It soothes him, these moments of forgetfulness. Here, he’s nothing important. He’s flesh and bone and blood. Draco draws his humanity from him, lets him put his masks away. Harry knows who he is with Draco’s body pressed against—pressed inside—his. When his eyes water from Draco’s fingers tangled too tight in his hair, the back of his throat aching from the pressure of Draco’s cock, he blinks them away.

 As he comes, both touched and untouched, he sees stars, even with his eyes closed.