Masterlist

masterlist

writing

harry headcanons - pt. 1

harry headcanons - pt. 2

harry headcanons - pt. 3 (18+)

obsession - harry oneshot (18+)

film stars - harry request (18+)

soft dom - harry request (18+)

professor potter - harry oneshot (18+)

cottage by the sea - harry request (18+)

the malfoy sister - harry request (18+)

dark side - dark!harry request (18+)

[ requests are open! ]

moodboards

simple pleasures of hogwarts

life of a hogwarts student

spending christmas with harry

harry james potter [2]

ravenclaw fashion

hufflepuff fashion

gryffindor fashion

slytherin fashion

Itadori's two moods

And he is always my baby

Reformed pt. 1.

⊹ genre: fluff mostly

⊹ pairing: draco malfoy x female Hufflepuff reader

⊹ themes: slow-burn 

⊹ summary: reader returns 6 years after the war. To her dismay, draco is her new supervisor while she trains as an auror. He had also managed to integrate himself into all her closest friends’ lives, making him unavoidable. Also unavoidable is the building tension between the two.

⊹ warnings: mentions of death, the loss of close friends, nothing explicit.

⊹ word count: 1.9k

⊹ a/n:  eternally terrible at writing summaries, but this is a storyline I like way too much to leave as a standalone. It might be a two-part situation, maybe even a mini-series!! I don’t have solid plans for it yet; just trying to perfect building tension without moving too fast or being too overwhelming. 

-

It had been 6 years since the war, and since you didn’t complete your last year of study with your graduating class, you ended up going back to school after the war with a few of your classmates, being a small group of students, it gave you the opportunity to connect with Hermione and Ginny. You really hadn’t seen much of either of them before the war being a Hufflepuff with barely any classes paired with Gryffindor. 

The three of us found comfort in each other during the difficult period of readjusting to school life and feeling alone as Ron and Harry went on to be Aurors, and I was only able to keep in touch with Madeline, my best friend, who was in Ireland practising extensive herbology research to come up with more effective antidotes to those still recovering in St Mungo’s. The rest of the group just sort of dispersed. I’d have thought fighting alongside each other and experiencing shared trauma would have brought us even closer together, but the rest of them couldn’t stand any memory of Hogwarts or us as a whole, and I really couldn’t fault any of them for that. Losing our friends was difficult, and we couldn’t just be a group of fun-loving kids hotboxing in the astronomy tower’s store room anymore.

The girls took me in early on. Ginny and I bonded immediately over quidditch. As my team’s chaser for the past 3 years, my affinity for the sport nearly matched hers. We’d spend hours practising on the open field together, preparing her for the scouts attending the games this year. She was a shoo-in for the Holyhead Harpies, and while I’d have loved to pursue a similar career, I wasn’t nearly as talented as she was, despite her efforts to help me succeed alongside her. 

Hermione was pleased to learn that I shared her excitement for learning and punctuality. We’d spend entire nights discussing, sharing, and reading books together in my single-occupied dorm, and since we were N.E.W.T students, we shared most classes, making long nights of studying in the Gryffindor common room all the more convenient. We grew closer the more comfort we grew to find in each other. We’d bake together in the kitchens with the elves once in a while. We spent a great deal of time mapping intricate policies that could be implemented one day in favour of the house elves’ rights movement we aspired to achieve. The three of us would often spend nights in each others’ dorms playing exploding snap, some muggle games Hermione and I introduced to Ginny, doing our makeup, and just being the young, carefree girls we never really got to be. It was freeing to heal parts of me with them. We had been inseparable ever since

-

It had been four years since you graduated from Hogwarts. You achieved exceptional N.E.W.Ts results but were never able to keep a job for longer than 4 months. You’d finally set out to Germany, where you’d spent the last three years in the Aurorial Appraisal program once you finally discovered your passion, and since you fought in the battle of Hogwarts, you were accepted with little difficulty. Upon completing the program, Hermione, as the deputy head of the department of magical law enforcement, whom you’d kept in touch with over the years, managed to secure you a job at the Auror office. You were to be a trainee appointed to a practising Auror for the first 6 months of the job. 

Since the couple planned on moving in together but couldn’t quite afford the rent of an entire apartment on their own, Ron and Hermione invited me to move into the common room of the unit, to which I graciously accepted. 

After a week spent unpacking and finishing our apartment came my first day. Hermione and I travelled to the ministry together since we both avoid apparition outside of dire situations. We bid our goodbyes as I made my way to the Office whose Auror I’d be shadowing for the next six months. I knocked on the door twice and stepped back, expecting the door to open for me. I waited two minutes with no response. I knocked again and again, no response. I huffed in annoyance, pulling open the door for myself to be met with a slender man sitting at his desk, the newspaper open, shielding his face from me.

“Excuse me, sir. I’m here for the briefing and introduction to my supervisor. Didn’t you hear me knock?” You couldn’t help but include the last sentence to what would’ve otherwise been a perfectly suitable first impression. 

“I heard, just wondered how long you’d spend standing around wasting time before taking action”, replied a smooth, steady voice.

I scoffed. “Just thought I’d practice decent manners, but it looks like you’re out of touch with the concept enough not to recognise it.”

He chuckled softly in response, seemingly refreshed by my blunt responses. Finally setting the newspaper down, he extended his right hand towards me as he introduced himself. 

“Draco Malfoy, a pleasure”, he spoke with a friendly smile. I was shell-shocked. His gentle aura seemed so unfamiliar to me. His eyes seemed to convey friendliness. His cheeks were lightly contoured with smile lines, and all I could think about was how it was possible for a man like him to form them. The only thing that looked familiar to me was the way his nose scrunched when he smiled, as it contorted into the same position when he sneered, which is predominantly how he addressed me throughout our years at Hogwarts. 

“I remember”. I spoke harshly, allowing his hand to float awkwardly in the air as mine stayed glued to my sides, refusing to meet his palm.

He dropped his hand eventually, his eyes leaving mine to stare at the floor, hoping to think of something to alleviate the tension. My demeanour softened. Even the aversion of his eyes seemed like such a vulnerable display for someone like him whom, before this, I had only seen cling to his pride and perception. I softly told him how he should address me, and he nodded curtly in response, not wanting to say the wrong thing again.

My day was spent in the ministry itself. Draco took me through the theoretical aspects of training to begin with. Our conversation didn’t stray much from the work discussion after our initial friction at his conversational attempts. 

-

Hermione got back home 3 hours after I made it home due to the additional responsibility that came with her position, I deduced. 

I bombarded her before the door even shut behind her. 

“You will not believe whom I’m training under for the next 6 months”, I practically shouted at her.

She kicked me in my shin with her sharp heel. I immediately keeled over, ready to over-exaggerate the pain I was feeling, when I realised her reasoning. Malfoy walked in behind her, straining his signature awkward smile that really only seemed to make its appearance whenever I was around him. I returned the uncomfortable smile before turning to Hermione with a pointed look.

“I figured the two of you would have bonded today. Guess assigning you to each other with no warning didn’t turn out the way I had hoped,” She spoke apologetically. 

“Draco works directly under me, which is why I trusted him with you. We all get together every Monday for dinner. Tonight’s our’s since we’re breaking into the new kitchen; Malfoy makes a solid saffron-infused risotto.” She continued.

I could barely process any information when even more people walked into our now cramped entryway. Ginny ran into my arms as we both fell onto the floor, where we settled in a tight hug gushing over seeing each other. 

Draco shuffled into the kitchen with groceries and a fresh baguette in hand, the rest of them piled into the newly furnished living room, and Ginny and I settled on the floor, refusing to detangle from our now loose hug while we caught up.

-

“It’s so surreal to me like you guys actually hang out with Malfoy? Sure you don’t keep him around as a makeshift house elf?” I asked, motioning to the kitchen. 

Ginny and I had finally made our way to the living room to join the rest. After greeting Harry and the twins, I joined Hermione on the only beanbag she begrudgingly allowed Ron and me to tarnish her architecturally detailed living room with since it was a neutral tan. 

Hermione rolled her eyes. “He’s changed a lot as a person, and you better get used to being around him. You’re still due to be partners after your training program, you know.” 

I groaned immediately. “Why couldn’t I have been put under Harry or Ron?” I whined to Hermione 

“They’re already partnered with each other”, she consoled. “Plus, you two have a lot in common. His food’s even better than yours,” she joked.

I gasped and smacked her arm. “I know where you live, Hermione Granger”, I fake sneered at her. 

“You should join him in the kitchen”, Ginny spoke from the couch beside us “at least make an effort with the man before deciding you can’t stand him”.

-

“Though I’m sure this makes for a priceless view, you could make yourself useful. It is your kitchen.” He spoke, jolting me from my fixed position at the doorway.

“You haven’t left it long enough in the water,” I said as he lifted the saffron-infused water. 

“Take over for me then”, he smirked as he took a step back from the stove.

I was taken aback by his newfound confidence but refused to let it overpower mine, so I walked up to the stove directly in front of him, taking the wooden spatula from his hand on my way over. I lowered the heat and allowed the dish to simmer to deglaze the wine, entranced by the warmth of his breath down my neck, the heat of his body just millimetres away from touching mine.

“Are you actually going to do anything?” He whispered just above my ear, tickling the skin surrounding it, the feeling moving all the way down my spine.

I failed to respond to him. “Looks about done.” He poured the saffron mixture in and picked the spatula back out of my hand. He stirred the saffron in, not moving from his spot behind me.

He moved, and I immediately exhaled at the blow of cold air that came with his absence. I didn’t miss it for long before he was right back, just a hair strand away from me. He dipped a small teaspoon into the dish and put it up to my lips, I tilted my head up, looking at him questioningly.

His soft fingers took hold of my chin, moving it back down and tapping my lips “taste”, he said. My mouth immediately opened in response. I nearly moaned at the soft, rich, perfectly seasoned risotto. He chuckled a breathy laugh.

“I’ll plate these. Why don’t you tell everyone dinner’s ready” he instructed, once again detaching from his spot behind me.

I went to do just that when I was cut off mid-announcement. 

“What on earth did he do to you to leave you such a breathy mess?” asked George almost incredulously

“breathy and positively flushed” Fred chided

I heard Draco’s hearty laugh from the dinner table

I glared at the pair, ignoring Hermione’s inquisitive smile

-

End

The Shower of yearning (1/2)

Harry Potter x female reader

Summary: Harry Potter likes y/n, although he won't admit it. y/n likes Harry Potter, although she won't admit it. Hogwarts Castle is sick and tired of it - and decides the two need some help, forcing them to shower together again and again.

warnings:Hand Jobs,Shower Sex and Accidental Voyeurism

The first time it happened, it was mortifying.

Harry was standing in the shower, under the hot spray. y/n had been right - it was a privilege to be able to use the Prefects Bathroom as Gryffindor’s new Qudditch captain. And while he didn’t have time to have a bath every night he now favored nightly showers in the grand shower room for the boys. It was much better than sharing a bathroom with Seamus. He was coming to the end of his wash - soaping up his armpits, when all of a sudden there was a loud pop.

Standing in front of him was y/n. More important, standing in front of him was a very wet, very naked, and very soapy, y/n Since she had been in the middle of washing her hair - her eyes were closed and she did not immediately recognize their predicament. Instead Harry was treated to five glorious seconds of his friend’s nude body. His eyes devoured her. Running from her feet, up her legs toned by years of climbing staircases, to the tidy patch of hair that covered her sex, and then he looked up to her breasts. Her naked breasts. He watched a soap suds trickle down the curve of one, ending perched on a nipple.

y/n eyes opened and they stared at each other in mounting horror.

“Harry!?”

“y/n?”

Before Harry could even think to do anything chivalrous - or even cover up his rapidly hardening cock - y/n had squeaked like a mouse, threw one hand over her breasts and another in front of her sex, and ran from the shower. So stunned by it all, Harry didn't even think to turn and look at her ass as it scurried away.

He regretted it for the rest of the night.

—-------------------------------------------------------------

The second time it happened, it was awkward.

Harry and y/n - both pink in the face throughout all of the next breakfast - had snuck away from Ron and Hermione to have a quiet conversation before class. They worked out that they had both been using the showers at the same time, y/n in the girls’ and Harry in the boys’, and they decided it must have just been some strange jinx. Another mystery of Hogwarts. They promised that it wouldn’t ruin their friendship or make things uncomfortable.

And for four nights they were right. Harry showered in peace and solitude - and while a part of him wished he could see y/n naked again he was glad not to endure that embarrassment again. Anyway, his dreams took care of his desires. He had woken up most nights now with a raging erection and a faint memory of a nude y/n. He tried to ignore it. She was his friend. Nothing more.

Still, his heart thundered in excitement when he heard that loud pop again. He knew what happened last time he heard that sound - and sure enough y/n was suddenly in the shower with him again. Except this time, she wasn’t washing her hair. She was washing her legs - bent at the waist as she soaped up her calves. Standing behind her, Harry was presented with the greatest view of his life. His eyes followed up her legs, over her thighs, to her plump, round bottom presented to him like a five course meal. He devoured the view - each soapy, wet asscheek there to be squeezed and kneaded.

“Oh Merlin” he babbled.

y/n stopped washing her legs. She went very still and then realizing her position she quickly stood up. She did not turn around however - instead standing facing the wall, letting Harry bathe in the view of her delectable rump. “Harry?” she whispered with uncertainty.

“Yeah. It's me” Harry said. He begged every power in the universe that y/n didn’t turn around. Partly because he wanted to continue to stare at her ass. Partly because his cock was so hard now it could cut stone.

They stood together in silence for a while - only the sound of the shower covering their breathing. Harry’s cock twitched as he watched a droplet of water run down the curve of her back and dipped between her cheeks, vanishing out of sight. Then y/n finally said, “could you leave this time? I still haven’t finished washing. If that’s ok?”

Harry gulped. “Sure” he said, backing out of the shower, not letting his eyes leave her ass until they had to.

—-------------------------------------------------------------

The third time it happened, it was explosive.

Harry and y/n had again managed to find an excuse to leave Ron and  Hermione at breakfast the following day and had a hurried conversation in an abandoned classroom. They worked out that it only seemed to happen when they were showering at the same time - and so the obvious answer to their problem was to make sure their schedules never aligned. Harry felt a stab of disappointment as they agreed, but he supposed it was for the best.

For a week then - Harry enjoyed his showers in peace and quiet. Enjoy being the right word because whenever Harry was alone under the water, his hand always dropped to his cock, stroking himself, jerking his shaft until he spilled his cum against the wall. He only ever thought about one thing. Her breast,.Her bottom. Her legs. Her back. Her wet hair and face. The visions came to him as he pumped himself, always concluding with a grunt of relief.

On Monday night then he had quickly washed - ready to engage in his new past-time - when the loud pop filled the shower again. He stumbled back, caught by surprise. There was y/n in front of him again. She was naked again. Her body glistened with the water again. Her face was already pink and her breasts were already heaving as she breathed heavily - as if she was trying to control herself after a long run. “Oh sorry!” she squeaked. “I thought you were finished!”

Harry had no reply at first. He found it hard to think of anything but the word “tits” that was currently doing laps around his brain. He wanted to squeeze them. He wanted to kiss them. It was only when he realized with mounting horror that he was now hard - fully erect, aching for relief - in front of one of his best friend did he finally return to earth. “Ok” he said. Trying to remember how English worked. “I wasn’t done.”

“What did you have left to do?”

It wasn’t the question Harry expected y/n to ask. Did she think that they should simply both finish their showers and pretend this was normal? More to the point, it wasn’t a question Harry wanted to answer - since there was no polite way to say “all I have left to do is jerk myself off to the memory of your naked ass.” Still he found himself looking down at his cock - still hard, still pointing directly at y/n. She followed his gaze and let out a little squeak. “Oh. Ok. Here, I have some soap.”

It was at this point Harry was certain this was a dream. It had to be a dream. It couldn’t not be a dream. Because y/n had just reached forward with a soapy hand and wrapped her fingers around his penis. He grunted. It didn’t make any sense. He had touched his own cock a million times before and somehow it never came anywhere near as good as y/n soft, dainty fingers pressed against his flesh. For a moment she simply held him, cock in hand, her eyes looking up at him. And then she started to move. As if this was normal. As if it was perfectly innocent for her to wash his shaft clean. Her arm gently pumped - her breasts bouncing with the movement - as she started to stroke his cock, lathering him up. Harry lasted for all of about ten delirious, delicious and delectable strokes until with a shuddering groan, he came. His seed splattered against her naked thigh.

“Finished?” Asked y/n breathlessly.

Harry nodded and took that as his sign to leave.

This tweet totally describes me

“[…] With the same facial expression and the same gesture, but in a more refined, imposing wavelength, I send you my old letters. I wish you take and hold them dearly. Wishing these songs represent not some reckless bravado but the courage you gave me.” Namjoon’s letter for Indigo release. 

trans. doolsetbangtan, posters/recordings: studioagust