#trelawny is so fucking hot
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Random Red Dead Redemption 2 Headcanons
My friend and I have been talking about RDR2 quite a bit, so I had no choice but to get to writing again, and it feels amazing! Starting off easy, but I hope to keep going from here. Thanks Arely for the inspiration!
Arthur’s favorites in the camp are Tilly and Lenny. He also has a soft spot for Grimshaw.
Arthur had a crush on Grimshaw when he first met her. She was a pretty, older woman, and he definitely got shy around her as a young man. She saw him as a little punk (affectionately) that she kept a special eye on.
Arthur is Grimshaw's favorite.
Arthur is Hosea’s favorite—John used to be Dutch’s favorite before he left for a year.
Arthur is an anxious-avoidant attachment. He doesn’t want to fall for someone, but my goodness, if he does, you'll own real estate in that man’s heart forever (cough cough, Mary)
Arthur: “No one [woman] will have me.” BECAUSE YOU’RE TOO ANXIOUS AND RUN AWAY FROM YOUR FEELINGS, Cowpoke.
High honor Arthur has nightmares of shit he’s done. Especially the loan shark stuff. This is why I think deep down he envies Micah’s ability to not give a fuck at all. Because the guilt of all the bad things he’s done consumes Arthur, I'd imagine that “free” feeling must be nice.
Arthur hates Strauss. Not as outwardly as his disdain for Micah, but he does. At the very least, Arthur doesn’t respect Strauss in the slightest. He also hates himself for aiding Strauss in his loan shark endeavors.
Javier keeps up with his appearance but underestimates his attractiveness.
Mary Beth has had a crush on everyone in camp at least once (except Micah), or she’s romanticized at least one quality about every man in camp (again, except Micah.) But she romanticizes Arthur and Dutch the most.
(1) Because Arthur is, well, Arthur, and who amongst us hasn't romanticized this handsome boi.
(2) and Dutch, because he’s been paying extra attention to her lately; he reads and appreciates that she does too; and she looks up to him.
Karen is the best to gossip with in the camp; you know the tea is piping hot when she’s around.
Tilly is universally loved by the camp (Maybe apart from Bill and Micah), but even Grimshaw (who is really hard on her) puts up a big fight to save her. She’s well-loved by the camp.
Trelawny is married but still flirts with the girls at camp and has other dalliances. His wife suspects this but doesn’t mind as much as you’d expect.
Charles is also very romantic with his partners, and I mean THE MOST romantic out of everyone in the VDL gang.
Sadie is a one-and-done woman. Her husband was the love of her life. I don’t even think she hooked up with anyone after he died. Jake was her one and only.
Kieran smells bad. That is not my opinion; it’s canon. Drunk Arthur even tells him to wash.
#red dead redemption 2 headcanons#red dead redemption 2#arthur morgan#arthur morgan headcanons#vdl gang#van der linde gang#rdr2#rdr2 fanfic#rdr2 fandom#red dead redemption arthur#red dead redemption two#red dead redemption fanfiction#rdr2 headcanons
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it’s game over for me boys...
#red dead redemption 2#josiah trelawny#help#trelawny is so hot what the fuck#y'all tripping if you say you dislike him
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Dear Boy | Arthur Morgan x M!reader x Josiah Trelawny (🍋)
request: Do you still write for Red dead Redemption 2? If yes could you write something about having a threesome with Josiah and Arthur? (If you don't, that's fine too!) ps: Male Reader please - anonymous
summary: you, Arthur and Trelawny are left alone at camp for the day, and with very little trouble to get into, what's the harm in making your own?
warnings: praise kink, threesomes, oral, anal, anal fingering, swearing, smoking
word count: N/A, worked on mobile 🤷🏻♂️
author's note: @x-reader-theater helped me write this and I just.... ily, my dude, thank you so much for helping me out💚
"Josiah!" You shouted, grinning from ear to ear as you approached. "Josiah!"
He whirled around, lighting up a cigarette as he smiled at you, tilting his head. "Yes, dear boy?"
You fumbled with your satchel when you got to him, only daring to stop once your fingers graced what you were looking for, pulling out a daffodil with great care as to prevent damage to the bright yellow petals. "Look what I found!"
Josiah smiled, paying more attention to your beaming smile than the flower; he had never met a man like you, so handsome and so charming you quite literally knocked him from his feet.
"It's wonderful," he said eventually, feeling as if there was something slightly caught in his throat.
"Here," you pressed the stem into his hand tightly. "I want you to have it as, like... I dunno, a lucky charm."
You are my lucky charm, he thought.
"Josiah," Arthur nodded as he wandered over. "(y/n)."
"Hey, Arthur," you said kindly, stepping aside so that he could join you. "I thought you'd gone hunting with Dutch and the rest of the gang."
"Nah," he shook his head. "I figured I'd stay here with you two - make sure you don't get into no trouble."
Josiah scoffed, raising a brow. "And what trouble could we possibly get into, dear boy?"
Arthur shrugged. "All kinds'a trouble, Trelawny - you're as slippery as an eel and as for you, (y/n)... never known a man who could get into trouble for pickin' flowers."
You rolled your eyes. "Well, maybe I just need a bit of punishment's all."
"A bit of punishment?" Josiah mused, looking you up and down, that feeling of something caught in his throat growing, making him lick his lips.
"Well, uh," Arthur rubbed the back of his neck. "I, I guess me and Trelawny could give it a go."
"Oh, absolutely," Josiah nodded in agreement. "If you'd like us to, that is."
You bit your lip, the thought of both of them punishing you making your face feel hot as blood ran south and your fingers trembled. "I'd... I'd love that."
Josiah took the first move, gesturing for you and Arthur to follow behind; you wound up at his tent, and you could feel yourself getting excited - boiling in your stomach so much that your trousers became tight and tented.
Josiah let his hands go to your hips, pulling you in close as he looked at your lips. "I'd like to kiss you."
You couldn't even answer, meeting him halfway; it was hot and heavy, open mouthed and desperate, and when Arthur came up behind you, peppering your neck with little kisses, you couldn't help but to squirm, bringing one hand up to Josiah's cheek, the other going to the back of his neck as you moaned into his mouth.
"Fuck..." Arthur groaned, his hands going to the back of your shirt, pulling it down a little so he could pepper a few more kisses onto your skin.
His beard was tickling your skin, making you whimper and silently beg for more - but when Josiah pulled away, his lips plump and swollen, you frowned.
Until Arthur turned your head to the side, his index finger and thumb on your chin as he kissed you gently, but still just as desperate and needy; Josiah bit at his lip for a second, swallowing thickly before he dared to press kisses to your shoulder, holding your shirt down so that he could get at the skin.
You were burning with the heat of a thousand suns - but you would happily burn for eternity like that.
"Arthur, sit over there," Josiah commanded, pointing to his bed. "Where would you like to be, dear boy?"
"I, uh, I don't mind," you admitted softly. Sometimes you liked to be the one giving, other times you liked to be the one recieving - you liked it all the same. "I'm a man of many talents - fucking is... it's all the same to me, regardless of position."
Josiah smiled, looking at Arthur for a second. "Would you like me to take you in my mouth while Arthur fucks you, dear boy?"
You nodded, biting your lip - but when Arthur leaned over a little, smacking your ass, you yelped. "Yes."
"Good boy," Arthur praised quietly.
"Good boy, indeed," Josiah licked his lips, able to feel his own blood rushing south and resulting in the tightening and tenting of his trousers. "Strip."
You did as he said, unbuttoning your shirt and letting it fall to the floor before removing everything else - but when you went to take off your hat, Josiah shook his head.
"What do you think, Arthur?"
"I think leavin' the hat on sounds good," Arthur confirmed with a nod.
You tried not to smile as you bit the inside of your lip, leaving your hat on.
Arthur reached out to you, pulling you onto his lap, his cock pressing into you through his jeans as he gestured for Josiah to come closer; with a villainous smile, Arthur kept one hand between your hip and thigh, biting his lip as he reached down, his hand gracing your bare ass.
Josiah sat beside him, and gently coaxed you to turn around slightly, just enough that he could capture your lips once more; he was sweet this time, his kiss coated in the honey of desperation. He slipped his tongue, and you moaned softly, giving Arthur the chance to slip his oiled up fingers into your ass.
Fuck, his fingers were thick. You couldn't help the shuddering moan that left you, moaning into Josiah's mouth. He kissed you with a bit more roughness, then, letting Arthur's fingers open you up for what was about to come.
"Fuck me," Arthur growled, his voice hoarse and hot against you. "You're so fucking tight, (y/n)."
Josiah pulled away, resting his forehead against yours as he smirked, his eyes shaded by the brim of your hat - it was tilted back slightly, and he looked even more charming in the shade. "You're being so good, dear boy."
"I think he's good to go, Trelawny," Arthur's voice was nothing short of animalistic as he pulled his fingers out and cleared his throat.
Standing on weak legs, Josiah pulled you to his side, kissing your temple as he murmured sweet praises in your ear.
After he got undressed, you watched Arthur get himself oiled up, his cock shining in the afternoon sunlight that dared to poke through the gaps in the closed tent.
He passed you the bottle, and you knew what to do instinctively, it was pretty obvious you had done this before a fair few times, shaking your ass a little bit as you got yourself slicked up.
"Do you still want to do this, dear boy?" Josiah asked softly, taking your hand. "We won't act awful if you don't. It's okay to change your mind."
You shook your head, biting your lip that little bit harder. "I still want to do this."
"Easy does it," Arthur said gently when you got to him, his hands gripping your hips so that he could guide you down, groaning softly at how tight you were. When he bottomed out, he leaned forward, his words hot against your ear. "You doing good?"
You nodded, rolling your hips as you groaned softly. "I didn't think you'd be so fucking big, Morgan."
He was blushing, his eyes meeting Josiah's as he dared to chuckle softly. But then he cleared his throat and asked, "this ain't too much, is it?"
"No," you told him. "This ain't too much."
To your surprise, Josiah dropped to his knees before you, clearing his throat. "Would this be too much?"
"Shit, Josiah," you chuckled breathlessly, trying not to let your moans overtake your words when Arthur slowly, with torturing thrusts, started to fuck you. "I can't count the times I've- I've thought about having your lips around my cock."
Slowly, Josiah wrapped his pretty lips around your cock, only daring to focus on your head as he toyed with you - it seemed as if your punishment was having to be toyed and tortured.
Arthur gave you a harsh trust, chuckling softly when you begged for him to go faster, harder.
"Oh, no," he clicked his tongue. "You said you needed to be punished, right?"
You growled, shaking your head. "I know, but... this ain't fucking fair - please, fuck me already."
Arthur looked at Josiah, who was purposefully avoiding playing with your balls as he pulled back - the tip of your cock coated in his spit.
"He has been rather good," Josiah admitted. "Perhaps we could give him the luxury."
You nodded, biting your lip. "Fucking please."
"Alright," Arthur agreed, starting to move a little faster, a little harder, but careful not to fuck you too hard. "You're doing real well, (y/n)."
Josiah went back to your cock, taking you in until be could feel himself gag, bobbing his head as you reached out with a shaky hand and laced your fingers in his hair; you were gripping tightly, a loud growl coming from the back of your throat when he brought one hand up and started to play with your balls.
Your hat was starting to slip, but Arthur caught it and fixed it while he continued to thrust up into your ass; it was a little painful, but you didn't mind - it was the pleasurable kind of pain. You could feel his breath on your burning skin, making you whimper his name as you ground your ass against him.
Josiah was relentless with your cock, sucking you off just enough to keep you on edge but not enough to make.you go over it - but fuck, the way he played with your balls made you want nothing more than to cum all over his pretty face.
"You're not gonna cum til we say so," Arthur told you, his hand daring to move around to your throat, squeezing gently.
"Fuck me," you whispered. "And what if I cum before?"
"We're gonna make you cum til you don't stop," Arthur said quietly, nibbling at the side of your ear a little. He was good at this.
The thought of that alone made you creep closer towards the edge; the way Arthur had been fucking you was hitting your sweet spot a fair few times more than what you had expected. Between that, and Josiah's magical mouth, you weren't sure how you were stopping yourself from cumming.
You thought that that sweet, sweet torture would last for eternity; purgatory spent teetering on the edge of the cliff. You could feel the hunger for it in the pit of your stomach, making you growl their names harshly as you begged for them to let you cum; begging for mercy that you had a sneaking suspicion would never actually relieve you from that sweet torture.
But then Arthur's movements started to get erratic - his thrusts growing sloppy and harsh as he tried not to let himself go, but he knew the end was near, and he kissed your neck before softly growling.
"You can cum, after me."
You nodded, trying to match his offbeat rhythm as he continued to fuck you ass, your grip on Josiah's hair tightening to the point where anyone else would have worried you were going to rip it; when Arthur finally came in your ass, you let the floodgates open, your cum filling Josiah's mouth as he eagerly swallowed.
Fuck, he looked beautiful swallowing your cum. A little bit dribbled onto his chin. You swallowed thickly.
"My, my," he chuckled as he pulled away, wiping that dribble of you from his chin with his handkerchief. "You did so well, dear boy."
Arthur was finished, completely spent; he let you get off of him, but he paused.
"Maybe, uh, maybe we should go clean up in the river," he suggested. "The gang ain't gonna be back for at least another hour - and the river's only a minute away."
Keeping you against his side, Josiah stole a look at you before turning to Arthur and nodding. "That sounds like a splendid idea!"
#mlem writes#arthur morgan x you#arthur morgan imagine#rdr2 arthur#arthur morgan x reader#arthur morgan#josiah trelawny one shot#josiah trelawny x reader#josiah trelawny imagine#josiah trelawny#rdr2 imagine#rdr2 fanfic#rdr fanfiction#rdr2#🍋 fanfic#minors dni
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Hey, how are you? I hope you’re fine.
It’s been a while LOL, but I never stopped following you, and I still love your writing.
So, how do you think the boys would react to the reader asking them to choke her?
I wake up a real horny today LOL.
- B
B! Hope life’s treating you well <3 luv u too
Arthur
When you ask Arthur, he chuckles and teases you a little bit. He has no idea how to do this, the only time Arthur chokes people is when he’s killing them but he's trying to look confident and as if he knows what he's doing.
Before he chokes you, he makes sure to go through your safe works and little gestures you can do to tell him to stop. As he begins to choke you, Arthur watches out for any signs that signal you're not enjoying it as much as you thought you would.
He practically breaths a sigh of relief when he sees you're enjoying it. Your moans encourage him to go a little tighter and he kisses behind your ear, teasingly nibbling at your skin.
Yeah he could get used to choking you, especially after he sees your reaction.
Dutch
Dutch raises an eyebrow when he hears your request. It's something he's thought of doing in the past but he wasn't too sure if choking was something you were into. But now that he knows it's something you want too, Dutch can't wait.
The next time y'all get frisky, Dutch wraps his hand around your neck and slowly begins to squeeze.
Dutch keeps his rings on when he chokes you, making sure you can feel them pressing into your skin.
He loves the power dynamic of it and often finds himself smirking as he chokes you. Sometimes he asks you questions while he does it even though he knows you won't be able to respond. Dutch likes to tease you a lot with it.
Charles
Charles is open to all kinds of things in the bedroom so he has no problem doing some choking. As long as he isn’t actually causing you any pain then Charles is chill to try it.
He's fairly confident that he knows what he's doing but Charles checks with you anyways to make sure he isn't squeezing too tight.
His hand fits perfectly around your neck and Charles knows exactly when to squeeze. He doesn't choke you every time ye have sex, mainly because it brings out a more feral side to him.
When he sees his hand around your neck and the look on your face, there's just something about it that makes him go harder and faster.
John
John needs to know how the hell he's supposed to choke you without killing you. He needs a tutorial.
He's a bit timid at first when you're showing him how exactly you want to be choked but he understands how you can get pleasure from it.
While you're choking him to show him how to do it properly, John starts to choke you too just to make sure he's doing it right. Honestly, I hope Dutch or Arthur doesn't walk by while y'all are doing this cause idk what they’ll think is going on lol.
John gets the hang of it quick. The only thing he's worried about now is that he'll accidentally go too hard. That’s why he always waits for your permission to squeeze your neck that lil bit harder.
Micah
C'mon now, I think the real question is when does Micah not choke you as he fucks you?
He adores having his hand on your neck, having that power and control over you is all he needs to finish.
Sometimes Micah puts his hand on your neck but he waits before he starts to choke you. He wants to see if you'll beg for it. Yeah Micah absolutely loves that and of course he teases you about it afterwards.
Honestly though Micah loves to be choked too and that's when you get your payback and if you want some good ol' revenge then you can definitely get him to beg too.
Javier
Javier's a little hesitant at first. He's scared of doing it and accidentally squeezing too hard or hurting you in any way. Javier's also a little confused how you could find pleasure in being choked.
Javier carefully places his hand on your neck and looks to you for reassurance. It takes a while for Javier to get comfortable doing it but he can't deny how hot it looks with his hands around your neck.
Hearing your moans and whimpers turns Javier on so goddamn much. No matter what position y’all are in, Javier will keep his hand on your neck.
The more he does it, the more curious he becomes about it and eventually Javier asks you to choke him too.
Sean
When you mention it to Sean, he acts like it's nothing. You want a quick choke? Oh yeah, he can do that. He's Sean MacGuire, he can do anything he puts his mind to... most of the time. Does he know what he's doing? Nope but he'll figure it out.
Sean goes full throttle, wrapping both of his hands around your neck and squeezing. It's like he practically rings your neck.
Don't worry, Sean stops the second he sees panic flash across your eyes and he realises he may have gone over the top with it.
You take his hand and show him how to do it properly. It takes him a while to get the hang of it but soon starts to get it and now Sean gets very cocky when he hears you moan as he chokes you.
Trelawny
Trelawny doesn't understand it. You want him to choke you? But not in a murder kinda way? It's something he hasn't really thought of or considered before but if it's something you want to try, then Trelawny is willing to test it out.
This man is so goddamn gentle. He carefully hovers his hand around your next, delicately settling his hand by your throat and... that's as good as it'll get.
Choking you goes against every one of his instincts so he’s very soft and delicate with you.
Afterwards Trelawny asks if he went too hard and if you're ok. You're gonna have to go through it with Josiah over and over again, helping him understand that he's not hurting you per say and that you're getting pleasure from it.
#B!!!#I’m doing good but hope everything is good with u too#who doesn’t love a good ol’ chokey choke#headcanons#writings#rdr2#arthur morgan#dutch van der linde#micah bell#john marston#charles smith#javier escuella#sean macguire#josiah trelawny#I just had some pizza but it was meh :(#now I’m gonna go take a nap lol
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the argument of “you cant like micah because hes a bad person, but you can like the others” is so funny. the gang is all bad people, theyre all outlaws, killers, etc. and the whole point of the game is redemption!!
some characters choose to be redeemed, such as arthur and john, who realize their flaws and attempt to improve themselves.
others dont, micah and dutch continue getting worse. but just because they don’t have a redemption arc, doesnt mean that you cant like them.
you can simply like villains. thats it. you can find them interesting, hot, relatable, etc. you can do whatever the fuck you want, to be quite honest.
even if other characters did redeem themselves, that doesnt mean that the blood on their hands washes away. that doesn’t mean all the innocent people that arthur murdered have forgiven him. that doesn’t mean the strangers the women of the gang robbed have forgiven them. that doesn’t mean the bounty hunters that athur and charles murder whilst saying trelawny have forgiven them. and so on.
everybody in this game is shitty. everybody. the game is all to do with perspective, because back then, everything was shit but you had to choose which shit you can tolerate the most.
i mean, jack grows up to seek revenge and murders a man who was only doing his job. so thats okay? so murder is okay but were drawing the line at racism? in a game set in the 1800s?
and what about javier? the man who sides with dutch and also spirals out of control, becoming a villain in rdr1. he’s a villain. so, we’re not allowed to stan him either, right?
obviously racism is bad. holy fuck, do i really have to repeat that? but a lot of the gang members are racist, in ways that you may not think. ive recently seen the argument that arthur calling lenny ‘boy’ is racist. okay then, cancel him. or are you going to sweep that under the rug because its arthur?
you personally can pick and choose whatever you want to enjoy. thats fine, thats always been fine. but to pick and choose for other people? man, grow up. if you cant separate fiction from reality then thats your own damn fault.
and if you decide it’s okay to stoop to micahs level, to abuse another person who has never ever once supported micahs actions, to put false claims in their mouth, man, you’re just as bad as micah, if not worse. because this isnt fiction, this is real life, false accusations can really damage a person, plus, you know, you’re just a shit person for abusing others also.
to be quite honest, im never going to change. i used to think micah was just an okay character until people began telling me that im not allowed to enjoy him. im stubborn, were all stubborn. telling somebody they cant enjoy something is only going to push them to enjoy it more.
and y’all arent going to change. y’all are going to continue thinking ur in the right and whatknot. alright, you do you, i do me. the block button is a free feature that is very much encouraged to use when you see somebody that you dont like.
blacklists exist. use them. filter out the tags you dont like. block the characters you hate, the ships you hate, the people you hate.
everybody has their own responsibility to filter out the content they disslike. its YOUR responsibility, not anybody elses. and you can’t go onto somebodys blog and moan about their content, like.... dont go on their blog then? block them.
also, theres real life people out there who are racist, who are pedos, murderers, rapists. there are people out there who are actual villains, but you wanna attack somebody simply because they like a fictional character?? what?? why are you turning a blind eye to the real villains?
go and do something useful. go and fight the real evil out there, not somebody on the internet whos fucking horny.
practise what you preach.
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Mirror, Mirror P.5
masterlist (<- to read parts 1-4)
request guidelines
want to be tagged?
pairing: draco x ravenclaw!reader
request: nope!
summary: y/n has admired draco from afar for a hot minute. what will happen when they’re finally paired up to do rounds together and run into the mirror of erised?
warnings: language, mentions of being very very ill, my terrible editing skills, way too much dialogue
a/n: here it is :) it’s been a bit. the finale will hopefully be posted this tues! i hope all of you guys have been continuing to social distance and i hope everyone reading this is healthy! also, important update: the first part of just a call away has been postponed until this monday (i originally expected it to be posted tomorrow but i’ve hardly been able to work on it at all). enjoy!
word count: 2.3k ;)
music recs:
permanent tags: @gruffle1 @missmulti @cleopatera @hahaboop @accio-rogers @geeksareunique @eltanin-malfoy @war-sword @cams-lynn
tags for mirror, mirror: @theres-a-dog-outside-omg @mey-rapp @kaibie @blackpinkdolan @sugarbby99
“Rena, I am going to kill you!”
Y/N’s roommate looked up, the fear of Merlin struck into her eyes. The Transfiguration study guide in front of her lay entirely forgotten as she watched her friend slam the door and flop on the bed. “Oh?”
Y/N flung off her robe and tossed it on the floor. “When were you gonna tell me that you talked to Malfoy about me?”
Her roommate narrowed her eyes, leaning forward in her chair and propping her chin up on her hand. “What are you talking about? He approached me and asked if you knew what the mirror was. I said you did. That was it.”
The venom seeped out of Y/N’s expression as the realization crept in.
“Oh. Oh, Rena, I’m sorry. I had no idea. He told me that you told him ‘everything’.”
“And you took a Slytherin’s word? Malfoy’s word? Honestly, Y/N, you give me a headache.” Rena sent a gentle smile her way. “What happened? Did you tell him?”
A sour feeling crept into Y/N’s chest as the memory she had suppressed on the walk to her dorm surfaced like bile in her throat. The rest of their shift was tense at best and downright agonizing at worst. Malfoy was uncharacteristically quiet, wringing his hands over and over again and scratching the back of his neck when he exhausted his wrists. Y/N knew that she was bright red by the time that they said their goodbyes--which really wasn’t much of a goodbye, just an uncomfortable nod before they parted ways to their respective dormitories--and cursed the fact that their ending spot was right under a torch.
She would much rather prefer him to just straight up tell her he wasn’t into her; however, she supposed he technically did, that week or so ago in the Great Hall when he had told her he wasn’t into Ravenclaws.
Maybe I’m the one that needs to pull back. Maybe I’m actually the git in this situation and I’m making Malfoy feel uncomfortable.
“Yeah. I did.”
“And?”
“That’s it. He doesn’t feel the same way.” The words left her mouth feeling like heavy lead, weighing her breath down.
Rena stood up from her chair, her face softening. “He said that?”
“He didn’t say anything, really.”
“Well that doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel the same way,” said her roommate. Her voice was painfully cheerful for Y/N. “Maybe he’s just nervous.”
Y/N offered a weak smile as she pulled her hair out of her ponytail and got up to rifle through her drawers to find something to sleep in. “It’s over, Rena. I don’t know why I’ve entertained this for so long. It wasn’t even a thing to begin with. I just want to go to bed.”
“All I’m saying is that he’s Malfoy, Y/N. I’ve literally never seen him flirt before in his life. I don’t think he knows how. Maybe he’s just being mean because he doesn’t know any other way?”
“I think I just want to stop thinking about it.” Y/N began changing into her nightclothes quickly with her back to Rena. “I want to go to bed and forgot about it and get my O on the Transfiguration exam tomorrow and just never think about rich daddy’s boys again. No matter how cute they look!”
Y/N tossed her old robes in her hamper, turning to Rena one more time with a blazing expression on her face that said I dare you to disagree.
“All I’m saying,” Rena said slowly, “Is that Malfoy didn’t seem like a total rat when he came up and asked me about you. It just seems strange that he would do that if he had no interest in you.”
“The only interest he has is in antagonizing me,” Y/N snapped. “He’s a class A git and I hate him.”
Rena raised an eyebrow, her expression slightly amused. “Whatever you say, Y/N. We can talk tomorrow morning. I think you need some sleep.”
oOo
Y/N’s dreams were torturous--just a loop, replaying over and over again, of her interactions with a certain Slytherin. She was dragged through her memories against her will, feeling the initial admiration of seeing him read in the courtyard for the first time, crumbling under the anxiety of their shift assignments, suffocating through the tension of their final meeting, reeling at the way his hair looked under the torch lights…
It was too much. She awoke with a pounding headache and a throat so sore that she may as well have swallowed a healthy spoonful of fire over the night. Her eyes hurt to open, like the edges of her eyelids had been lined with Dittany.
“Merlin, Y/N, you look like shit.” A voice that sounded suspiciously like her roommate wafted from her right side, but she couldn’t be sure. “I’ve gotta get you to Madame Pomfrey.”
“Rena?”
“Y/N?”
If she hadn’t felt like she was toeing the line between the dead and the living she would’ve been sure that the tone in her roommate’s voice was tinged with amusement. She tried to croak something more out.
“Don’t worry, Y/N,” Rena cut in before she could try any harder. “I’ll be back in just a minute. Don’t try and get up, alright? You need your strength.”
Y/N nodded--or at least, she tried--and turned back into her pillow to sleep. A part of her mind registered that she had a Transfiguration exam today and then rounds that night with Malfoy, but as a cold bead of sweat ran down her spine, the thoughts were pushed to the back of her mind. He could wait. He’d already taken up her entire night by filling her dreams and she was not eager to see him again any time soon.
“Y/N?” The door creaked open and her roommate’s voice dragged her back to lucidity. “Hi girly. Can you walk?”
Y/N forced her eyes open and winced at the light filtering through the curtains. It was hardly light out, but the weak morning light sent pangs through her head. The heavy quilt that she had been burrowed under was lifted up off of her...and the shivers started.
Her entire body began shaking, her teeth clattering together so hard that she was afraid she would break them. She wondered if anyone had ever chipped their teeth from fever chills.
“Just swing your legs around the edge...yes, just like that…”
Rena’s hands held her shoulders with a firm grip as she shakily made her way to her feet, swaying slightly.
“Fuck, Y/N, you’re absolutely shaking…”
“Mmmhmmm” was all Y/N had the sense to use as a reply.
“All you need to do is make it down the stairs. I can put you in a wheelchair and push you the rest of the way.”
“Love you,” Y/N mumbled as her friend guided her down the stairs. Even though she’d been walking up the stairs to her dorm for years, everything felt oddly foreign to her through her feverish haze.
“Love you t--whoa! Easy.” Rena caught Y/N from near demise as she almost missed a stair. “You’re almost there, doll. Just hold on a bit more.”
“I need you to....” find someone to cover my rounds tonight she tried to say, but the words caught on what felt like daggers in her throat as she felt the wall.
“Focus on getting down the stairs,” Rena interrupted. “You can tell me once we’re on the way to Pomfrey’s.”
Finally, she made it down onto the last step and allowed herself to be guided into a seat. Exhausted from her trip, she slumped back in the chair and forgot about her request as she drifted back off into her feverish dreams.
This time, they were different. Instead of interactions that had actually happened, her brain took her through a different whirlwind of events. A flurry of sensations met her--a thumb dragging across her slightly parted lips, a chaste kiss placed on her neck, a hand softly squeezing hers, a warm breath fanning across her cheek, a pair of just barely blue eyes staring down at her with so much affection that her heart skipped, a rough hand shaking her shoulder, the sting of something pressing into her wrist (a wand, she thought absently), voices around her calling her name…
Her eyes shot open as she recoiled from a burst of unbearable cold across her chest. The ceiling of the infirmary wing greeted her. Her torso was wet, and once she cast her eyes down to the end of her bed, she could see why.
Madame Pomfrey stood next to Professor Trelawny and Headmaster Dumbledore, brandishing an empty bucket in her hand.
“Thank goodness! She’s awake!”
Pomfrey sent Trelawny an irritated look as she rushed forth, muttering incantations and running diagnostic tests on Y/N’s body.
“What...what happened?” she managed, trying to sit up.
“Stay down,” Pomfry commanded, turning to her nightstand to mix a concoction of various potion ingredients.
“I just had the flu.”
Trelawny moved to the side of the bed to clasp her hand firmly in hers, a kind look in her loony eyes. “Miss Y/L/N, I’m afraid that wasn’t the case. You had an acute case of Dream Sickness. We’re lucky that you were able to wake up when you did. You’re even luckier that your roommate noticed and brought you down here.”
Y/N knitted her eyebrows together. “I’m sorry. Dream...what?”
“Dream Sickness,” the headmaster finished. “A very rare affliction that primarily affects the overthinkers in the wizarding community. Naturally, you Ravenclaws are at a higher risk than other students.”
“So who gave it to me?”
“No, dear,” said Trelawny. “It’s not contagious. It can happen to anyone, but it’s more common if you spent time around powerful magical artifacts. Have you?”
Y/N cringed at the thought.
“Er...yes, I guess I have. I ran into the Mirror of Erised on one of my prefect rounds. I never lingered, though.”
“That would do it,” Dumbledore mused. “The mirror has a tendency of...inflaming emotions. I ought to locate it and put it in a safer place.”
“So I’m okay? I can go back to classes? I have a Transfiguration exam today, and I’d really like it if I could make it.”
“McGonagall’s Transfiguration exam, I presume?” he asked.
“Yes. It’s later in the afternoon. I promise I’ll be careful!”
The adults beside her shared uncomfortable glances.
“Dear,” Trelawny began, “You’ve been here for two days.”
The air was sucked out of her lungs as the realization kicked in. “But that’s impossible! I was only sleeping for a little bit. And I had rounds! How did I miss my rounds?”
Pomfrey seemed mildly sympathetic as she emptied the mixture she had been stirring into a crystal goblet and offered it to her. “It’s normal to be disoriented after a bout of Dream Sickness. Professor Flitwick is sure to understand the situation, and if he does not, I am willing to vouch for you. Now drink. You have some recovering to do.”
oOo
Rena Severjyn was always the confrontational type. It had been a shock to her as well as her family when she’d been sorted into Ravenclaw (with all the bookworms and the teachers’ pets, as her older brothers said to her) instead of Gryffindor, but she’d grown to love her house. Studying came more naturally than cliff-jumping, or whatever it was that Gryffindors did, but when it came down to it, she had no problem with telling someone off.
So when she ran across a deliciously alone Draco Malfoy reading in the courtyard, she had no trouble walking right up to him.
“Hey, arsehat.” She plopped down next to him as he started, nearly dropping the book on the gravel walkway. “We need to talk.”
“Severjyn,” he greeted, his tone even but his eyes flickering nervously. “Do you know where your roommate is? I had to do my rounds alone last night.”
“She’s in the hospital wing. But no matter. I want to know why you’re being such an intolerable prat to her.”
His mouth opened and closed a few times, clearly trying to cope with the fact that he was at a loss for words.
“Spit it out, Malfoy. I don’t have all day.”
“Is she okay? Did something happen to her?”
Rena rolled her eyes. “No, she just decided to spend more of her time around Pomfrey. Yes, something happened to her. She’ll be fine. You’re not answering my question.”
“I don’t understand.” The crease between his brow deepened with worry.
“She said she told you how she felt and you didn’t say anything about it!”
“I’m sorry. I just got nervous.”
“Are you dense?” Rena’s voice became shriller. “You told me yourself you fancied her, and you can’t even manage a measly ‘me too’? Even though you had the whole of fucking two hours to do it?”
A blush spread across his fair cheeks as he slammed his book closed and stood up. “It’s not that easy. You know it isn’t.”
“It’s never that easy. But she was able to do it, and you even told her that you weren’t into her! Honestly, I cannot believe you.”
“Please just…” Draco evaded eye contact, dropping his eyes to the floor and grinding his toes into the gravel. “Just leave me be. I promise I’ll talk to her once she’s better. Just don’t tell her, okay? I want to do this myself.”
Rena rolled her eyes. “You better.”
final a/n: finale is coming out soon! let me know what you thought :)
#draco x reader#draco imagine#draco malfoy x reader#draco malfoy imagine#draco x oc#draco malfoy x oc#draco#draco malfoy#draco x y/n#draco malfoy x y/n#draco malfoy x you#draco x you
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Hey Baby! I love your A/B/O stuff so much (and others! of course) and the ones of the people being walked in on by poor susan are by and far my favorite, would it be okay if I asked for Trelawney, Sean and Swanson? That's the damned funniest thing I've ever read and I love it
Susan:
Trelawny:
If his hat is still on, he’ll tip it, but like... that only makes it worse for everyone involved.
After that it’s just sort of a strangled noise of discomfort that he doesn’t realize he made out loud.
Tomorrow he’s gonna get away from the gang on one of his long breaks. For like no reason really. If that’s ok. Fuck.
Swanson
Honestly Swanson gets so lost in the sauce when you two are going at it that it will probably take him a hot second to notice. Hopefully Susan is gone by that point.
He really doesn’t know what to do. So he just stares accidentally. Like no thoughts head empty while Susan backs out.
If you didn’t notice what happened he will 100% just convince himself that nothing happened
Sean
Awkward grimace/smile. His best “act natural” face. Not natural enough.
He’s honestly like is this is? Is this the moment that ruins sex forever for me? How am I gonna recovery from this. How will my dick ever get hard again. I’m gonna be thinking about this until I’m like an old old man.
Spoiler alert: it doesn’t because he forgets all about it within about 5-10 minutes, as is his natural memory span
#abo#rdr2#red dead redemption 2#writing#rdr2 x reader#red dead redemption 2 x reader#headcanon#sean macguire x reader#sean macguire#orville swanson x reader#orville swanson#josiah trelawny x reader#josiah trelawny
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Ashamed of my body
Pairing: Dutch Van Der Linde & Josiah Trelawny
Tags: Angst, Smut.
Rating: Teen and up audience
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Josiah and Dutch stand opposite each other in an empty wooden cabin. Far away from preying eyes and ears. They are a couple since three days now. But Dutch is real nervous today.
,,You know Josiah. There's something on my body who brought my ex male partners and my two ex gemal partners to laugh about me. It hurted me. I was born like that. I can't do anything about it." Dutch start shy.
Josiah never seen him so weak, vulnerable and anxious. It somehow scares him.
,,I-it's a long time ago the last time I belonged to someone. I want you to mark me, I want to Mark you, I want you to make love to me. But I only can allow you to do it, when you accept me as I am. And I'm scared and feel ashemd to shoe myself. I'm afraid you laugh at me to." He Sighs.
Oh my. He looks anxious and nervous.
,,Dutch, whatever it is... I don't force you to show it to me." Josiah say honest.
,,I know angel. And I thank you for that. But I want to do it. I wanna see if I can really trust you." He answers.
And then he slowly open his vest and shirt, and throw both away. And then he open his gunbelt and lay it carefully on the table next to him. Then he slowly opens his jeans. He get rid of his boots and socks. And then he remove his jeans and underwear at one go. He kik both away. And then he looks away anxious and unsure. His cheecks are flushed. He's totttaly ashemd. Josiah at first dosen't notice why. But then he see it. Josiah is surprisingly shocked. His mouth drop open a bit. He didn't expected that. But it's nothing to laugh at. He's born with it, he can't change it! And Josiah still love Dutch as he is. Even though he has a female genital down there and his back entrance, instead of balls and a cock.josiah close his mouth again.
,,So you're born with it you say. Can you get pregnant?" Josiah asks.
,,No." Dutch answers.
The Dutchman is shaking slightly.
,,Look at me dear boy." Josiah whispers.
He stepped closer to the slightly taller man. He takes one of Dutch's hand in his. With his other hand he slowly turn Dutch's face in his direction. Both man lock eyes. And then Josiah slowly bend forward, and kiss Dutch softly on the lips. Dutch hesitated for a moment, but then he melted into the kiss.
,,I still love you as you are dear boy."
,,You sure? They always said I'm a girl." Dutch says hurt.
,,I'm totally sure. Your still pretty and still a man for me. Your not a girl, don't listem to them!" Josiah answers softly.
This time Dutch kiss Josiah softly.
,,C'mon honey lay down on the bed and spread your legs for me. Show me that pretty slit of yours come on." Josiah whispers into Dutch's ear with his deep voice with strong English accent.
Dutch unsure walks to the bed and lay down on his back. His head is resting on the headboard. But he didn't spread his legs. He's to shy and unsure. Josiah remove his vest and shirt, and just let them fall to the ground. Then he joins Dutch on the bed. He sit at his feed. Waiting for Dutch to open his legs. But he don't. Instead he blushes even more.
,,C'mon Daniël I know you can do it." Josiah whispers.
Josiah is the only one who can call Dutch by his real name, without getting killed or beaten in the face. And Dutch is the only one with barbers who is allowed to run his hands trough the Englishman's thick black hair, without getting smacked in the face. Then Dutch finnaly open up. But look shy away. Josiah crawl s between Dutch's legs. His cock twitching in excitement. He looks at Dutch's pretty slit. It's clean shaved. The only hair he got, is the happy trail from his navel down to the beginning of his slit. Damn it looks hot. Josiah's cock got semi-hard immideatly.
,,What a pretty sight. Watch me pretty boy." Josiah purrs.
And then Dutch shyly look at him. Josiah wet his index finger, and then let it wander slowly over Dutch's sensitive clit. Trough Dutch's body went a jolt, and he let out a loud moan immideatly. His slit got immideatly wet to. He seems to be pretty sensitive at the clit. Just like a girl. Josiah bent down and slowly start to suck at the clit, before he let his tounge wander over Dutch's slit and entrance. He taste so fucking good and sweet. The Dutchman is a moaning and panting mess. He clawed his hands into the sheets already. Josiah looks up to his lover.
,,I'm not used to it. Normally I have to pleasure myself. Sorry." Dutch says shy. And he blush even more, if this is still possible.
,,It's Alright. I love the sounds that you make. You taste so fucking delicious and sweet. I love it! You don't have to be ashamed big boy." Josiah whispers.
Dutch get a bit more flustered. And then Josiah let his tounge slip into Dutch's pretty slit. And that's it, one of Dutch's hands claws softly into the Englishman's thick black slicked back hair and mess it up. This caused the older man to moan, and it brought his dick to get painfully hard in his tight black fancy jeans. Both man, especially Dutch enjoy it verry much. And with every minute who passes, and with every lick of Josiah's tounge inside Dutch's slit or outside on his clit, Dutch relax more and more.
,,Yes that's it. Relax and trust me big boy. I take care of you. I got you." Josiah whispers against Dutch's slit, before he let his tounge dive in again.
,,Ahhh yes that's it schatje." Dutch moans.
Then he start to suck at the clot again, and slowly push his finger into Dutch. The leader let out a deep moan. Josiah start to slowly move his finger. It dosen't take long though, till Dutch is cuming hard arround Josiah's finger. And with a loud moan. Josiah want to pull his finger out. But Dutch stops him.
,,No go on. I want you to fuck me. I mean it." Dutch says breathless.
Josiah looks up to his lover.
,,You sure?"
,,Yes pleas schatje." Dutch gasp.
Then Jo add a second finger. Dutch let out a deep groan. He really seems to enjoy it. After a while he add a third one and start to move them again. Dutch is a moaning and panting mess. And Josiah's painfully hard cock twitches for attention. After a while he remove his fingers, and slowly get up to fully undress. Then he joins Dutch on the bed again.
,,How do you want it?" Josiah ask.
,,I wanna ride you."
,,Sure." Josiah answers.
Then both switch places. And Dutch position himself over the Englishman's big hard cock both man loco eyes, while Dutch slowly lowers himself on Josiah's thick, long and hard piece of meat.
,,Ah yes! So big." Dutch moans as he got all of Josiah in, and sit on god thighs.
,,You alright?" Jos ask worried.
,,Yeah I'm fine. Just my first time, and your so damn thick and long. I love it." The younger man gasp.
Dutch bend down, and kiss Josiah softly. Then Josiah make a hickey on Dutch's neck. Dutch will happily show it of. Because he belongs to Josiah from now on, and Josiah belong to him. After that he marks Josiah too. This brought the Englishman to moan, and caused his dick to twitch inside Dutch. After that Dutch sit up, and start to slowly ride the older man. After a while he speed up. Both man are a moaning mess.
,,My god! This feels so fucking good!" Dutch gasp.
,,It does. I'm close Dutch." Josiah gasp.
,,Me too."
And after a few minutes Dutch cum hard around Josiah. Je start to squirm wich drives Josiah crazy.
,,Dutch im close I can't!" Jos moans.
,,It's alright. Let it go. I can't get pregnant." Dutch moan.
And that's it, Josiah cuminh hard inside him immideatly. The older man arch his back in pleasure. He never felt that good. And by Dutch it's the same. He let himself slowly sink down on Jos. Then he kiss him softly, before he hides his head in the older man's neck.
,,I love you so much. Thank you." He murmurs.
,,I love you too. No worries big boy." Josiah smiles.
And then Dutch is asleep. Snoring lightly. Josi giggling to himself, before he also close his eyes, and fall asleep too. He loves Dutch as he is. He really do. And nothing will change that.
-
I don't know how old Josiah is. Dutch is 41 and Josiah is 45 to me. From what he looks. I didn't found his real age though so it's just my opinion. I hope you liked it :)
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I write sins not tragedies
He Wolf
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Chapter: 1 of?
Pairing: Arthur Morgan & Josiah Trelawny (mentioned)
Rating: Teen and up audience (talking about hot stuff)
Tags: Werwolf Arthur, escape from hunters, thinking
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I started this Oneshot (and probably some two shot) Os book about the Van Der Linde Gang. It's mostly about smut. Feel free to read it :) It's on archive of our own. My name: Hosea_Matthews_Hoe_2
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Arthur is breathing hard. He's hiding in a small cave nobody else noticed luckily. He has to shift into his much "smaller" human form to even fit trough the caves entrance. And even that was almost impossible and a way to tight fit. He let himself sink down the cold but smooth stone wall, until he sit on his behind. He can still hear and smell the hunters sent and what they're talking. Even though they went straight, while he managed to take a left turn and sneak into that cave. Being a Werwolf is not easy at all! But Arthur still love it. It let himself feel free when he run. When the wind blow trough bis thick sand colored fur, when he fell the grass or dirt under his huge paws, when he simply can forget everything, and can fully focus on all smells and sounds of all the animals and people walking, driving on a wagon or riding arround.
The feeling luckily never get old. He's 36 today and it still feel like he's doing it the first time. Whenever he shift back to human form after a successful run, the burden and all that he went trough immideatly fall back on his shoulders. Sometimes he's do energetic and happy in his wolf form, that he's sometimes afraid to just lift of abd magically fly away. Arthur always giggle at that thought. He's a fucking wolf and not a bird! But sometimes stupid hunters destroy his peaceful runs or trips. He's a huge wolf with bright yellow eyes. He's at least five or six times bigger and taller than a normal wolf. No, his height is about as high as a Shire horse. And he's big in width too. Just like in his human form. All muscles. He's simply beautiful. And that's why hunters want him. That's Arthur's only problem. That he's so big that you can't oversee him.
The gang knows about his secret. At first they were scared. Specially John. But they all got used to it. And now they think it's cool. He told them six years ago. He was so afraid that they all will call him a monster and throw him out. But they were simply shocked and a bit afraid. Nothing more. They wasn't so afraid, that they wanted to throw him out immideatly. Luckily. Hosea was the first who trusted Arthur again. Who was himself again around Arthur. He's glad about that. Hosea is like his father. He practically raised him. Yes Dutch too. But at the latest as Micah joined, Arthur noticed that Hosea is a much better mentor and father to him then Dutch is. Dutch is more like his best friend and Boss. And the age gap between Hosea and Arthur is way more realistic too. In his 36 years of life, it's the fifth time hunters come after him. But he's way to fast for them. And even with his size, he manage to sneak away or hide somewhere without them noticing. It always ends that Arthur win. Always. And he's glad about it. But his senses are really helpful. He see, smell and hear as good as a wolf does. That's his luck. He can even smell how a human is feeling. Like angst, sadness, nervousness, anger and so on. He smell it on their scent. He can even smell when somebody is horny. And that fact he hate the most. Sure he can head people moaning in the hotels even if they try their best to muffle their sounds. But Snelling it too is even worse.
But for him, being a Werwolf, has much pros and less contras. Due to being a Werwolf, he knots whenever he cums. Abd until now, he don't figure out if the knot is a pro or a contra. Eliza was first Afraid of it. But as Arthur knotted her for the first time, and filled her belly with Isaac, she startet to love it. Mary on the other hand, never accepted his knot. She never accepted that he's an Outlaw and Werwolf. That's the most part why their relationship broke. But now, now, he has Josiah. They are a couple since one week now. But he's afraid.
Afraid that Josiah will turn him down when he see or hear that he knot. He can understand. The knot is big and painful at first, because he need to shove it in with full force too. But he dosen't need to knot someone when they sleep with each other. The knit builds at the base of his cock. Only a bit behind it stays in its normal form, that the knot gets actually locked. So whenever he fucks someone, he can push full inside, until he's near coming. There his knot start to swell, and make it impossible to fit it inside with his normal thrusting. Specially not if it's a man.
But Mary was still afraid. Even though his knot give her a chance, that she don't need to take it. But he's over with Mary and Eliza. Even though her and Isaac's loss still hurt him verry bad. He rub his hands over his face and sigh. He's afraid to lose Josiah. The Englishman is way to good for him. He wonder how he derseve somone as beautiful, inteligent and nice as him. But he's glad about it. Josiah show him what love is. After a long time of getting non. He almost forgot what love is and how it feels. Yes he still is unsure and shy when both are alone, or blush and is a bit embarrassed when Josiah kiss him on the lips or cheeks in front of the gang. He isn't used to it. But he's sure he will get used to it. If Josiah dosen't leave him. He hope not. Because he love this man way to much.
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Fandom Meme - Stolen from Livejournal!
Rmemeber these? I’m bored and my sleep pattern is f’d, so I’m doing one.
Pick your 6 favorite fandoms and answer the questions (don't look at the questions before):
1) Queen
2) Sherlock
3) Hawaii 50
4) FBR Bandom
5) British Detectives - Midsomer Murders
6) Harry Potter
01. Who is your favorite character from #6?
Ron Weasley
02. Who is your least favorite character from #4?
Ryan
03. What would a crossover between #1 and #5 include?
.... 😮 Well, this one is a bit obvious but Brian finds out he has a long lost son who works for the police force whilst visiting the sleepy town of Causton and becomes a victim of a crime!!
04. Who is your favorite ship from #1?
Maylor
05. If you were to set one person from #3 and one person from #6 on a blind date, who would they be?
Mary from H50 and Professor Trelawny. I think they’d get on even if they weren’t attracted to each other.
06. If you could meet one person from #4 and spend the day with them, who would it be, and what would you do?
I really liked Bob. I’d just show him around and see a film or something.
07. If you could change one thing about #2's plotline, what would you change?
Everything after the Moriarty reveal in series 1, Mary not being a romantic interest for John so that whole part of series 3 wasn’t a thing, the flanderisation of Anderson, The whole thing with Eurus, the fucking Victor Trevor the dog was actually the best friend shit show and Irene ‘I’m a lesbian written by Moffatt so therefore must have my sexuality invalidated and my storyline bombed’ Adler.
Sherlock being canonically a sex repulsed asexual
08. Explain a relationship between two people (not necessarily romantic) from show #5, and why you like the relationship between them.
Cully’s relationship with her mum, Joyce, is really good and it’s nice to see a great mother/daughter relationship on telly that isn’t full of intrapersonal drama, strife, resentment and conditional love. I don’t even really like Cully, but the writers got that bit right.
09.If the lead title characters (first name in the credits) from #1 and #3 were both drowning, and you could only save one, who would it be?
Ah. This isn’t set up for RPF Fandoming. Blah. Oh well. We’ve got Brian, Roger, Freddie and Deaky, and Steve and Danny drowning... That’s 6 people drowning. And I can only save one of them!? This is a very unfortunate situation for Danny considering his history with water. Freddie. I’d save Freddie. Sorry Brian, Roger, Deaky, Danny and Steve.
10. If you were able to add a new character, any kind of character you wanted, to the storyline for #6, what would the character be like and what would their role be?
Fiona Calman, a social worker. She’d be no nonesense, won’t step down, won’t look the other way. Dumbledore could throw everything at her short of the Unforgivables and she will be back into the office the next day feeling like she’s forgotten something and then suddenly remember “Harry Potter! Something’s not quite right at his home.” and she’d be right back to it.
11. What happens in your favorite episode of show #2?
Sherlock and John need a case because they are running low on money, and an old uni mate of Sherlock has had a break in at his work so they go and get paid a lot of money for it. Unfortunately it didn’t land very well and there’s a lot of Problems to it, but it has Sherlock intruding in on John’s date as if that’s a perfectly normal thing to do, and gave us this bit of dialogue:-
John: Actually, I’ve got a date
Sherlock: A what?
John: It’s where two people who like each other go out and have fun
Sherlock: That’s what I was suggesting.
We also get shown Sherlock’s dedication to methodically searching through evidence and his sheer stupidity on never learning his lesson in regards to crime scenes and a glimpse into the kind of poeple he had to deal with at university. And they get paid for solving the case.
We also get this wonderful quote, as a character almost knocks a teapot off a table. “Centuries old, don’t want to break that.”
12. If you could kill off one of the characters of #1, who would it be and how would you do it?
😰 um... um... Foster? Erm. Heart attack? I don’t know!!
13. If you got the chance to visit the set for either show #3 or show #5, which would you choose?
Oh I think 3! Hot weather, gorgeous beaches, and I’d try a malasada!
14. So, I saved the best question for last. If you could date anyone from any of these shows, which show and which person?
ahhahaha ahaahaha ummmm... oh no. I’m too awkward, shy and asexual for this question. Brian May, Roger Taylor or Ron Weasley
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Wonderwall 2
"You're gonna be the one that saves me."
~
Dear mother,
I hope everything is going well with whatever it is you are doing at the ministry and I hope your friends are well.
I've spent time with Harry and I know father hates it, but I think it's good that him and I get closer considering our crowds are starting to merge.
He doesn't know of my magic or my history just like most. Zayn is still the only one I've shared this with and he's been an excellent friend ever since. I've yet to have an incident this year but I'm afraid one might happen soon. You see, I've been having these awful nightmares in which I'm trapped in a glass ball, buried under snow and fog. On the other side is someone familiar and I know they're in trouble but I can never get out to help.
I don't know if this a sign of something but the lack of sleep is starting to get to me. I've received multiple detentions for mouthing off and falling asleep in class, specifically Umbridge's class. Please don't worry about my schooling, Harry and Zayn have been helping me a lot. Zayn is trying to help me find a way to sleep better and I hope he does before I have another incident.
However, I'm starting to think that being around Harry and his friends is dangerous. I'd hate to lose control and hurt him or reveal something I'm not supposed to. As much as I enjoy being with him, I don't want to make his life any more complicated than it already is. Please send any advice if you have any and let me know if you and the others are ok.
-Sincerely, Lily S.Jackals
~
I watch Zayn climb down the ladder of the astronomy room, leaving me alone in the musty air with Professor Trelawny.
"Excuse me professor?" I fiddle with the strap of my bag, hesitantly approaching her. She faces me, hair a wild mane under the piece of cloth holding it down and eyes bugging out from under her thick glasses.
"Yes Ms. Jackals?"
"I was wondering if I could ask you about something?" I cringe, hating that I just asked to ask a question. She nods, encouraging me to go on before walking away from me, robes dragging on the floor. I watch her pull down a teacup from her cupboard.
"I've been having these dreams lately," I watch in confusion as she pours tea into the cup. "I'm stuck inside this glass ball and I can't get out. I know someone on the other side needs my help but I can't see or hear them."
"Sounds awful dear." Professor Trelawny brings over the cup of tea, shoving into my chest and spilling some over the edge. "Now drink up."
I gulp the hot tea down in one go, my throat tightening in protests against the burning liquid but I need answers as soon as possible. I don't have time to sit around and chat over tea with Professor Trelawny. I hand her my cup, waiting anxiously as she examines the tea in the bottom of the porcelain cup.
"I see a tree," She says thoughtfully. "of skeletons and bones." Her huge eyes flicker up to as if looking for a specific reaction. When I don't respond, she continues and I don't need to hear her words to know what the tea means.
"You've got a family of secrets that's holding you back, dear."
I nod stiffly, not even thanking her or bidding her good day and storm for the ladder, already devising a plan in my head. The only way I'm going to get answers is through my family. Speaking to my father is a lost cause, he's as hopeless as I am when it comes to opening up to others. Which leaves my mother. She's always followed everything my father says, even though they've never actually been together. I've pressed and pressed for answers as to why my family is split the way it is but it seems the only thing we all have in common are secrets.
~
"I always liked pens and pencils better than quills."
Zayn looks up at me through his dark eyelashes, nodding his agreement before looking back down at the paper in front of him. He traded in the black ink pen he was outlining with, grabbing a lead stained pencil instead.
"Would save a lot of time, not having to dip a quill in ink." He uses the pencil to fit some lead on my cheek, using his pinky to smudge it. I grin at the roundness it gives the drawing, always amazed at Zayn's artistic abilities
We're silent for a moment, the only sound around us being the scratch of Zayn shading his drawing and the muffled conversation of the students around us. It's peaceful, but it won't last. It's only a matter of time before Zayn decides to question me. It's about another minute before he softly clears his throat. "Did you find out what your dream meant?"
Careful to not move to much, I gently shrug. "Kind of. She just told me my family is hiding shit from me and I assume that's where the whole 'being in the dark' part of the dream is coming from."
Zayn cracks a toothy smile. "So nothing we didn't know."
"Nope," I laugh, running my fingers through my hair, realizing my mistake too late.
"Oh you bitch!" Zayn scoffs, dropping his sketchpad to the grass next to him. He huffs, pushing himself to his knees and crawling towards me.
"I forgot!"
"You always forget." He grumbles but he's got an amused grin on his lips. I roll my eyes, staying still as he slips his lead stanied fingers into my hair to fix the part. Taking peeks at his drawing, he manages to return my hair to the way it was before I ran my hands through it.
"Maybe if you'd stop distracting me."
"Maybe if you weren't such a dumbass."
"Runs in my family." I grin cheekily. Zayn laughs, returning to his little spot surrounded by pencils and pens, picking up his sketchpad.
"Think you got most of it from your father." He settles the pad in his lap, resuming his work.
"You could say that again."
Zayn flickers his eyes up to me again, the usual bit of sympathy that arises when my father is mentioned, swimming in them. "Are you going to try asking him about the secrets?"
I snort. "Like he'd ever answer me. I'd have to submit a formal letter to even get a chance to speak with him."
"What about your mom?"
"She's busy. I wrote her a letter last week, telling her about my dream and Harry."
"And?"
"Still no answer."
"Parents are fucking awesome."
I snicker, ignoring the heaviness in my chest to bask in how much I really love Zayn. Coming from disfunctional families, Zayn and I have always been able to make jokes out of each other's wrecked homes. It may not be a healthy coping skill but it sure helps.
Zayn's eyebrows pinch together. "Think your lion will be grumpy if he sees me drawing you?"
Confused, I respond, "No, why?"
A smirk tugs at Zayn's lips. "Because he's walking over."
I whirl around, catching sight of Harry walking towards us. He meets my eyes, grinning and walking faster.
"Are you serious?" Zayn groans but I ignore him, smiling at the way Harry's hair bounces with each step. I notice he's not being followed by his usual gang and while I love the rest of the boys, it's nice being with just Harry.
"Quit whining." I finally respond to Zayn, turning back around. "I'll see you later, ok?"
Zayn just nods, shooing me away with a careless wave of his hand. I clamber to my feet, turning around to face Harry, whose smile grows.
"M'not gonna be able to keep you still with him here." He shrugs and it it weren't for the lightness of his voice I'd be burning with guilt.
Before I can respond, Harry's falling onto the grass next to me with a soft thump. He spreads his legs out in front of him, leaning back on the palms of his hands.
"Hi," I greet, leaning into his side. He's in just a tee-shirt today and the warmth of his body on my arm is gratifying.
Harry grins, dimples sinking in deliciously, and says a simple, "Hey." I don't mind his words being simple because his eyes are looking over my face with the kind of warmth someone can't purposely create.
"Hello," Zayn interrupts, snapping Harry and I from our daze. Zayn is smirking, amusement twinkling in his eyes and I want to ask him what he finds so funny but I'm afraid I might not want to hear the answer. I'm sure it'll have something to do with how infatuated I am with Harry.
"How's it going mate?" Harry questions, briefly leaning forward to give Zayn a good hand shake. His ribs press into my arm as he moves and my ears heat up.
"S'good," Zayn nods, looking around the school yard with a peaceful smile. "enjoying the heat while it lasts. Tha' popsicle over there will be crying about the weather by next week."
I scoff but Harry's chuckle covers it up. "I will not!" I argue even though I sure as hell will be complaining about the fall chill that's supposed to blow in next week.
"Lie all you want Lily," Zayn says, obviously amused with my offense. "but you're not borrowing my sweaters when you're cold."
I roll my eyes at his words, a child-like anger blooming in my chest. I always borrow Zayn's sweaters because they're significantly warmer than my own. He'll never tell me where he gets them so I've never been able to purchase my own, which wasn't a big deal until now.
"Yeah, well...you can't use me for your sketches anymore!"
Zayn chuckles and the heat in my ears prickles stronger. Harry's eyes examining the side of my face make this childish argument even more embarrassing than the fact that Zayn is openly being dick.
"I've known ya long enough to be able to draw ya out of memory." Zayn quips and the cocky glint in his eyes has my gut twitching.
"Then I'm not helping you with potions." I snip proudly. Without me, he'll fail Snape's class. My pride, however, is short lived because Zayn is unfazed by the threat.
"Don't need ya help."
I'm ashamed to admit that the comment hurt. Potions is just a class but I'm the best in the school at it. I know I am. That's the one class I can go into and not worry about messing up because it doesn't technically require magic. And while Zayn is good at every other class, potions was the one thing I had on him, the one thing that's mine. But apparently, it's not even mine because Zayn can do just fine on his own.
"Hey," Harry says softly, the tension of Zayn's words hanging in the air being too much. His palm finds my lower back, pressing down lightly to get me to look at him.
Biting the inside of my cheek, hard glare still stuck on Zayn's smug face, I ignore Harry's request. "Fuck you," I hiss and I don't bother staying to see if he's realized that he's genuinely pissed me off. I climb to my feet, brushing off my clothes.
Harry was quick to scramble up with me, not saying a word as I stomp away from Zayn and back towards the castle. Harry follows, his hand latching onto the sleeve of my sweater.
"You alright?"
My stomach swirls uneasily and I find myself wanting to tug my arm away from Harry's touch, but he's not the source of my indignance and I shouldn't take it out on him. Control your emotions, my brain reminds me.
"Fine," I mumble, my voice now empty of any signs of how much Zayn's words affected me. "he's just an asshole sometimes."
Harry's lips quirk up into a tiny smile. "I could've told you that lovie."
His words bring a small smile to my lips and I let him intertwine our fingers. His hand is warm compared to my icicle-like fingers and I wonder if he's always this warm. I hope he is, I think, loving the idea of being able to go to Harry every time I'm in need of warmth.
Without putting to much thought into it, I peck a kiss to the dimple in his cheek. His grin grows and his cheeks turn a soft pink that would look unflattering on anyone but him.
~
Head held high and shoulders squared, I strut past Slytherin table and Zayn. I feel Zayn watch me, either amused or confused with my behavior. I ignore him, eyes catching on the boy I was looking for in the first place.
My heart thumps louder and louder the closer I get to his table. Fortunately, there's an open spot next to Harry, the rest of his gang being sat across from him. Taking deep breaths, I approach the table, forcing a smile when Liam looks up at me.
"Good morning Lily!" He cheers, eyes squinting as he beams at me.
"Hi." I mumble shyly, sliding onto the bench next to Harry. At the sound of my name he had dropped his fork and turned to look at me. I meet his gaze, getting close enough that our thighs press against each other.
"Hey." Harry says in surprise, seeming dazed to have me sitting next to him. My stomach twists with guilt but the fluttering of being close to him overpowers it.
"Mind if I sit with you?" I ask, directing my question to the group but not tearing my eyes away from Harry.
"Of course not!" Harry says, wincing at the unexpected volume of his voice. I chuckle at him, heart settling a bit now that I'm actually sat with him and too busy admiring the way he holds his fork instead of fretting over how new I am to this.
"How have you been holding up with Umbridge and all her detentions?" Liam asks me, abandoning his plate of food to rest his chin in his hands.
"Fine," I shrug, lifting my hand to show the boys the pink splotch on it. "found this potion that heals it really quickly but it still scars."
Before I can drop my hand back into my pocket, Harry is snatching it out of the air and bringing it to his lap. His fingers fill the gaps between mine, thumb gently running over the sensitive scar tissue.
Niall, Liam, and Louis all eye Harry curiosity but say nothing. He ignores their looks, keeping his frowning face down to examine my hand.
"Well that's sick," Louis finally says, pulling everyone's gaze from Harry. "you can fix Harry's hand before he's got to go back. Seems like she's really taking it out on you two."
His words make me freeze, something heavy settling in my stomach. I turn to look at Harry to find him glaring at Louis. He meets my eyes, an innocent smile gracing his lips. Any other day and I would have let him be, accepting the mischief in him but not today.
"You got detention again?" I ask, pulling my hand out of his and leaning over him to grab his other one. He doesn't fight me as I tug it towards me, noticing the white bandage wrapped around his palm.
"S'nothing." Harry insists, angling himself towards me. He tenses when I peel the end of the guaze, unwrapping his hand. His hand is split in bloody letters, skin red and bruised.
I must not tell lies
"Harry," I huff, dropping his hand to grab my bag from the floor. I dig through the pocket until my fingers land on the bottle I'm looking for.
"You knew I had detention." Harry says quietly.
"Yeah, once." I gripe, shoving my bag to the floor. Day after day for the past week and a half, Harry's been waiting for me after my detentions with a hug and kiss to make it better but all this time he never told me that he was in detention too.
I pull the stopper out of the bottle, lifting it over Harry's hand. "You don't have to fix it." Harry insists but he makes no move to pull his hand away.
"Shut up." I tell him, squeezing the healing potion over the wound. He winces, knees spasming into mine as his hand bubbles and smokes for a moment. His skin appears to be melting, stretching over the words he had to carve into himself. Once it's healed, all that remains is a pink scar.
"Thanks lovie." Harry murmurs, clenching his hand as if testing the strength of the skin that's healed his hand. I probably would have blushed hearing him call me that in front of his friends. He's only used that petname when it's just him and I, and even though it always makes me flutter, today is not one of those days.
I stiffly nod, returning the potion to my bag. I place my hands back in my pocket before Harry can get the chance to grab them. His eyes burn into the side of my face, willing me to turn and look at him but I keep my eyes up, looking over Liam's head at the tables behind him.
"You made that potion yourself?" Niall asks me.
"Yeah."
"Oh," Niall says. "Wicked."
I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat when Harry's fingers land on my forearm. "You're not mad at me, right?" He whispers.
"No." I lie, recalling the uneasiness that had plagued me last year when Harry came out of every single Triwizard challenge with injuries that could have been far worse.
Harry locks his fingers around my arm, giving it a small tug. I still don't look at him, knowing I'll bust if I look into his eyes.
"M'sorry." Harry says-pleads- as he urges me to look at him by pulling at my sleeve. When I don't respond he tugs harder.
"I honestly don't care Harry!" I finally groan, fed up with the noise of the Great Hall and the fact that Harry obviously doesn't trust me enough to tell me when he's hurt. To make it worse, the back of my neck prickles as if someone's watching me.
"Lily," Harry murmurs, scooting closer to me. I'm reaching for my bag, ready to get up and leave when shouting rings out from just outside the doors.
Being sat close to the exit, I just have to look around Harry's shoulder to see Umbridge and McGonagall standing on the staircase. Both of their faces are red with anger.
"Umbridge." I state simply, jumping to my feet. I'm heading towards the doors, knowing Harry is following and maybe even his friends, when fingers lock through mine. By the warmth of them, I know their Harry's. We join the crowd that's gathered.
"Are you questioning my authority?" Umbridge says through tight lips, glaring down from the top step at McGonagall.
"Only your mideivel detention practices!" McGonagall snips, rising to the same step as Umbridge. I see her lips move in a response to McGonagall, looking around at the crowd of students with tangible distaste. Maybe it's the restless dreams or it's the stupid argument with Zayn or Harry not telling me about his detentions. Whatever it is stops me from hearing her words.
I stare at her eyes, the icy blue chilling my veins. Like some kind of dream, I see the blue pour out of them, casting the front of her pink robes in ice. It trails down her front, spilling over the steps in frothy wisps of white that immediately freeze the stone. It continues, consuming the feet of Professor McGonagall and then the first line of students. I watch it, heart thumping loudly and fingers going numb in the now frigid air. The ice is quickly capturing students and as it inches towards mine and Harry's feet, my entire body heats up, my chest burning like it might explode any second.
"Lily!" I stumble back, breath caught in my chest and dizzy. Professor Snape is standing over me, nostrils flaring and black eyes blazing. Like a tidal wave, the noise of the now bustling corridor fills my ears and I can feel Snape squeezing my shoulder and I can feel his wand poking into my chest.
Confused, I pull away from him and accidentally bump into whoever is standing directly behind me. Their hands grab my elbows, softly like I might explode.
"What are you doing Lil?" Zayn asks, stepping in front of me to examine my eyes. He was the person behind me. My heart spikes, panic rising in my chest when I recognize the sympathy and worry in them. The last time I received that look from him was our first year at Hogwarts when I accidentally knocked over a book shelf out of anger without even touching it.
"What are you talking about?" I croak, chest growing tighter and tighter with panic. My heart throbs painfully in my left shoulder. To answer my question, he steps to the side and nods behind him.
The staircase where Umbridge and McGonagall had stood is now empty. The top four steps and the beginning of the handrail are shimmering in the light and to my horror, I realize they're covered in ice.
"You burnt Harry." Zayn says softly. If possible, my chest grows even tighter at his words and I'm positive that can see my heart pounding through my rib cage.
I turn to find Harry, a lump building in my throat at the sight of him. He's watching me with a furrow between his eyebrows and lips in a frown. He's cradling the hand that had been holding mine and I notice that it's an angry red. I look down at mine, tears building in my eyes at the sight of my black fingertips.
"Lily?" Harry calls, so softly I could barely hear it over the ringing in my ears.
"I need you to come with me Lily." Snape interrupts, stepping between Harry and I. I meet his gaze, feeling utterly helpless with my quivering knees and soppy eyes. "Right now."
I nod, already knowing he's taking me to the dungeons. My legs are stiff and numb as he guides me towards his classroom. Both Zayn and Harry call out for me again and I can't speak around the lump in my throat or bring myself to turn around. Thankfully, Snape answers for me.
"Don't you all have essays to be writing?" He snips and as we step onto the lower staircase I catch sight of Harry stepping forward to follow us, making it only two steps before Zayn is stopping him. His eyes are on mine the whole time.
~
"What did he tell you?"
"The same thing he always tells me." I reply, tonelessly. Snape's words of wisdom echo around in my head. "You're letting yourself become too attached. Too emotional."
"Did he tell you how stop it?" Zayn asks and I nod.
"Same thing he always says?"
I nod again, repeating Snape's words. "'Keep to yourself to keep yourself safe.'"
Shaking his head, Zayn let's out a low growl. "That's absolute shit. Anyone with eyes can see that Harry's good for you. Taking him away from you outta make it worse, not better."
I shrug, staring at the words on the history book in front of me but not reading them. Even if I wanted to read them, the water that's built on the edge of my vision prevents it.
"He might be right." I whisper.
"What makes you think that?" Zayn scoffs.
"I could've lit him on fire Zayn. I could've hurt everyone in that hallway because I was too distracted. I got too into my head and I lost it."
A sarcastic laugh busts from his mouth, palm slapping down on the table in front of me. "You don't actually believe that Harry is the source of this, do you?"
I stay silent, not knowing what to say. This had happened before I was around Harry and I was always told that the cause was me being careless and too social. I wasn't focused on myself and my magic and that's why I let it get out of hand. I don't blame Harry, he didn't know, but a part of me does believe that I was being careless because I've been so focused on him and as much as it hurts, I'm going to have to cut back on my time with him.
Thankfully, Zayn doesn't press me to answer that particular question. "When do you get to return to classes?"
"When Snape deems me healthy again."
"So I've got to keep suffering in classes without ya? Last week was bad enough-"
"Last week was your own damn fault Zayn." I snip, my temper flaring at the memory of the argument I had with Zayn. We don't usually fight and when we do it's easy to just fall back into our routine without discussing it. This time proved to be pretty similar besides the fact that I'm constantly on edge and will snap at Zayn at any given moment. I guess this is one of those moments.
"Ya know I was kidding," Zayn whispers. He looks around the library, searching for prying eyes and ears before muttering, "I was just a bit jealous ok? Not used to sharing ya."
"Jealous?" I scoff. It's absurd to think that strong, egotistical Zayn has ever been jealous.
"I've always had your attention for the past five years. Now all of sudden we've got a whole gang of Gryffindors with us. S'taking me a while to adjust, ok?"
Zayn's words makes my eyes sting and my heart ache in the kind of way you can't really describe because it's so overwhelming. "Well that shouldn't be a problem anymore."
"Why not?"
My heart thuds painfully. "I don't think I'll be seeing Harry for a while."
#harry styles#harry styles imagine#fanfic#fanfiction#one direction#fluff#harry styles au#harry imagine#wonderwall 2#harry potter au#harry potter cross over#harry potter#slytherin#gryffindor#witch#wizard#wizard Harry#hogwarts harry styles#hogwarts
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Torch - Chapter 3: November
A/N: We are one day late but it’s here! Get ready...
Love,
@fightfortherightsofhouseelves
&
@gryffindormischief
Also on FF and Ao3
Torch: a Hinny canon compliant multi-chaptered fic featuring HBP missing moments. Updates every first day of every month, from September 2019 to August 2020.
_____
Hallowe’en, for all he knows of it now, was a boring event during the first eleven years of Harry’s life. Dudley would gorge himself on candy, gather up his cronies to increase their usual levels of Harry-focused torment, and Harry would simply wait for the day to end like he did any other.
Since his first year at Hogwarts, the end of October has generally been a mix of angst and some sort of life-endangering drama. In between, the Hallowe’en feast at least provided some form of light hearted fun.
When October 30th dawned, Harry had been looking forward to a day spent playing quidditch and avoiding Hermione’s heavy handed comments about the importance of revising early and thoroughly. By the time the sun sets, Harry’s almost hoping Voldemort plans to finish what he started fifteen Hallowe’ens ago.
At least he would only have to tolerate another twenty-four hours of Ron’s moping.
It’s not enough that practice was shite and they’re basically about to be destroyed on the pitch in less than a week. Ron’s got to go all dramatic and say he plans to resign . Harry finds himself wondering if there’s an encouraging way to say he’d rather have shite Ron than deal with McLaggen’s diva attitude.
After supper in the Great Hall, Harry loses himself in the rush of students and eventually wanders into the courtyard - moonlit and delightfully abandoned.
Finally feeling like his brain has an opportunity for quiet , Harry drops down onto the ledge surrounding the fountain and throws his arm over his eyes.
His spine pops a bit at being stretched so absolutely but in that good ‘am I creepy to enjoy this’ way.
Water spray tickles his bare skin, a touch icy despite whatever charms keep it from freezing over and Harry almost feels he could drift off. And maybe he does, until a throat clears and draws him from his funk.
Craning his neck only enough to identify the interloper, Harry finds Ginny Weasley eyeing him with a raised brow. “Don’t think pneumonia will get you out of this game.”
“Imagine if Oliver Wood heard I skipped out for a less than deadly ailment.”
Ginny laughs and wanders closer as Harry pushes himself into a sitting position and muses, “He’d probably be more disappointed I’ve let the Gryffindor team fall into such a state.”
Shrugging, Ginny picks at her fingernails and says, “Are you telling me Wood never lead a bad practice? You can’t put everyone’s performance on yourself. It’s up to us at some point, yeah?”
Harry glances up and meets Ginny’s gaze, so confident and strong when he recalls her blushing looks his first year.
Hell, she’s confident and strong on any litmus test and Harry can’t help but be bolstered by her words, ready to fight another day so to speak.
While he considers some new tactics to implement - on the field and in a more mental preparation type way - Harry finds he doesn’t feel the need to drop his eyes from Ginny’s.
And she hasn’t either.
It’s almost tangible, the feeling building in his chest. So much that he almost wishes it was mutual. Until he remembers Dean and severs the connection.
“Thanks, Gin.”
Her smile is small, but real enough. “Anytime Harry.”
___
By November 2nd, Harry’s so fed up with Ron and his constant fuming and grouching around, he’s almost willing to forget the past six years of friendship for the two minutes he’d need to properly bitchslap his best mate.
Seeing that nobody (maybe except Ginny) would regard such behaviour as captain-y, Harry sighs and sucks it up. There’s a match they must win today after all. So he pretends his little old hand slips with a dash of lucky potion exactly when Hermione happens to be looking. Oops.
At least now Ron’s chuffed and his ego oiled and pampered enough to pull some actual Keeping out of him. Harry can see it in the way Ron walks, prances, struts his way to the pitch - and he shakes his head and smiles. The match is certainly theirs.
It’s only when Harry catches a glimpse of red from the corner of his eye, rapidly obstructed by broader, less delightful Dean-shaped figure hovering over her for his own version of Felix Felicis: a kiss from Ginny.
Something inside Harry’s chest growls dangerously and he draws a long, shuddering breath to silence it. Not the time, he thinks.
Jaw set and hardened, Harry trots together with the Gryffindor team, entering the pitch in roaring, thundering applause. It’s deafening.
And they do win - how could they not? It’s exhilarating, and the whole team gathers in a spine-numbing hug around Harry, and Ron’s so proud and glowing the knowledge that this win is his as much as any of the others’.
Until Hermione just can’t help herself and confronts Harry so he admits, figures it’s safe to let Ron know it was all him now. No Felix, only him. But of course he finds a way to turn his win into a kick to his ego, it’s Ron.
Looking at his best mates hurt and mad, at Ginny disappearing with Dean, at his team chanting their way back to the castle in the midst of happy shouts from their fellow Gryffindors, Harry can’t bring himself to feel too excited. There’s an annoying voice at the back of his mind whispering that the worst is yet to come.
Dumbledore should just hire him to co-teach Divination with Trelawny and Firenze because it seems he’s a natural at it. Exactly as he feared, things do take a new, ugly turn just when he relaxes enough to forget about the looming danger of his best mates jumping at each other’s throats and Ginny points out that Ron’s already jumped - but not at Hermione and in a totally different way than Harry’s imagined.
Ron and Lavender. Lavender and Ron. All Harry can do is blink and...blink some more. Talk about unexpected.
The door to the Common Room slams shut and Harry closes his eyes tightly, silently curses Ron and slips out after Hermione, unnoticed. It’s hard seeing her like this, heart broken and crying all alone. Harry tries his best to support her, but he knows it’s useless...If he allows himself three seconds of honesty, he’d actually tell her that he’d been feeling the same for awhile. So they sit next to each other in silence, the sad and the broken.
Until Ron barges in, Lavender in a fit of giggles in his wake and Hermione looks more mad than Harry’s ever seen her. The insane, pained look in her eyes - it’s terrifying.
And she curses him, and Harry catches the shock on his best friend’s face before the birds hit and the pain sets in.
What a mess.
Later, when he says goodbye to Hermione in the Common Room, Harry climbs the stairs to his dorm feeling bereft, opens the door and readies himself for another blow.
But Dean’s inside, head leaning towards Seamus. It seems like Harry’s interrupted an important talk because both boys jump a bit when he walks in. Still, Harry pays them no mind and rushes out through the door, Cloak securely in his pocket.
“What the fuck.”
Harry grins. There’s only one mouth who could’ve said that, belonging to only one person who could’ve guessed there’s someone attempting to sneak out of the Gryffindor Tower invisibly.
“Hello to you too,” Harry bumps Ginny’s elbow from under the Cloak.
“Going incognito, are we?” Ginny arches an eyebrow, looking somewhere in Harry’s general direction.
“Too much drama, had to hide.”
She pretends to sigh, “Ah, well, I was about to hit the kitchen for some hot milk with cinnamon but don’t let me stop your little undercover mission.”
It’s an invitation to food and mischief and Harry’s not about to let it slip by.
“Lead on.”
Ginny does grin, satisfied and raises her palms to feel around her, “Make way, I’m coming in.”
“You sure it’s enough space for the both of us?” Harry teases.
She takes one look at him and shrugs.
“Not my fault if that bum of yours got too big. You should really cut down on your treacle tart intake.”
Harry pouts and tickles her mercilessly in return. His fingers play over her middle, tickling everywhere as she laughs and dances away from him, Cloak fluttering around them but Harry doesn’t care. All he wants now is her laugh, loud and boisterous, and Ginny...Ginny, with her freckled face and blazing look, Ginny laughing in his arms as they’re hidden in plain sight. Ginny.
He doesn’t have the map, but by now sneaking to the kitchens is something he could do in his sleep. Overall, it feels nice to be doing something stealthy for reasons related to treacle tart and impressing a girl rather than investigating the dark activities of your classmates.
The journey from the common room passes quickly as Ginny murmurs cheeky stories about each of the portraits; likely made up and all the more fun for it. When he tickles the pear and slips inside behind Ginny, Dobby is immediately on them, nearly knocking Harry over as he tucks the Invisibility Cloak away.
Ginny grins at Harry over Dobby’s head as they’re ushered to one of the long tables and seated with much prodding from the house elf’s spindly fingers. As has become something of a custom, Dobby praises Harry to an excessive degree and with Ginny as witness, he can’t help but blush.
Once they’ve requested treacle tart and warm milk to go along with it, Dobby departs with a flap of his ears and Ginny nudges Harry. “Eleven year old me would be so disappointed.”
“Because I’m quite boring and sneak about to get treats?”
Ginny laughs. “No - that would’ve been a selling feature. I mean young Ginny fancied herself your biggest fan, but it appears she’s been overtaken.”
Grinning, Harry props his chin on his hand and for some reason decides now will be the time he’s finally able to wink without looking like he’s got something in his eyes. Based on Ginny’s stifled chuckles, he doesn’t succeed, but he can’t really hate anything that raises that smile on her face.
Dobby returns, deposits their plates and mugs on the table, and disappears off to manage something or other while Harry cuts two healthy slices from the fresh tart. “He’s never given me a singing card though.”
And then, to Harry’s everlasting joy, Ginny actually blushes and stalls for time by taking a sip so overlarge she begins coughing almost instantly. He rises, ready to slap her back or do any manner of things to set her right - even the torture of a purely medical press of his lips to hers - but she soon recovers.
Ginny swipes the tears from her eyes with a sigh. “That was not nice.”
“Haven’t you heard? I’m both deluded and a delinquent.”
“Is that a quote from Umbridge or Skeeter?” Ginny asks around a bite of treacle.
“Joke’s on you, it was Snape,” Harry shoots back, taking a long sip of his milk.
“Well if the supreme potions master turned defense against the dark arts teacher says so it must be true,” Ginny drawls, placing air quotes around defense .
Harry pushes his glasses up, more for something to do than from genuine need, and nibbles on a bit of crust. “D’you trust him?”
Her smile is sad now, even as her eyes bore into his. “I find the number of people I genuinely trust gets smaller and smaller with each passing year. You’re probably the only person I would say that to.”
“Dunno if my agreement is a vote of confidence in the intelligence of your judgment,” Harry mutters, picking at his tart.
Scoffing, Ginny tosses a serviette in his face and cuts another sliver for herself. “Stuff it, you know you’re brilliant. I came here for sweets, not to fluff your ego so you turn into a preening arsehole,” she grins at the end, her lips twisted in a dangerous smile, “ Speaking of my brother -”
“He and Hermione may end me before ol’ Moldy-shorts.”
___
“Not like it’s any of my business,” Harry drawls, turning a page of the Prince’s book, “But shouldn’t you tell him?”
“And what exactly should I be telling who?” Hermione volleys right back, tone a little waspish.
Harry draws in a breath, already regretting he’s opened the subject - but they are in the library and if he’s forced to spend another hour with Hermione looking at Ron out of the corner of her eye and Ron looking back at her from two tables away, where he’s studying with Lavender and Parvati, he’s pretty positive he’ll basically move in with Hagrid.
“Ron. Why don’t you just tell Ron that you’re sorry?”
Hermione slams her book shut, looks at Harry dangerously.
“Whatever should I be sorry for?”
“Does it even matter?” Harry answers, clipped. “Look, Hermione,” he pauses and sighs, “the two of you are my best mates and it’s difficult watching you angsting around instead of talking and, you know, sorting things out.”
“Well then,” Hermione jumps to her feet like an angry cat, “I will go angst somewhere else then.”
Harry can hear her stomping out of the library, completely ignoring Madam Pince or anyone else for that matter. With one last look at Ron, Harry lays his forehead on the old battered book, removes his glasses and closes his eyes. Why is having feelings so complicated?
When Harry finally convinces himself that there’ll be no more studying in the real sense of the word for the day, he throws all his stuff in his bag, takes another look at Ron’s ginger head, hoping he’d somehow manage to telepathically convey that he’s acting a bit like a git for the wrong reasons, then trots out of the library, the castle, and down towards Hagrid’s.
Later, when he’s gorged himself on Hagrid’s special rock cakes and he’d drank enough hot tea to keep the cold outside at bay, Harry finally starts to feel better. It’s nice near the fire, Fang resting his big head on his lap as Harry scratches him between the ears.
“I heard Ron’s with Lavender, eh?” Hagrid starts, dropping on the seat next to Harry, his pink apron fluttering about him.
Harry raises one eyebrow, but grins, “News travel at the speed of light, then.”
“We professors know more than you kids think,” he chuckles pleased.
There’s a pause, interrupted only by Fang’s deep snores.
“How’s Hermione?”
Harry studies him intently before he answers.
“She’s been better, I suppose.”
“Ye know, Harry, I like Ron. He’s a good lad, but sometimes he’s not too smart,” Hagrid stares into the dancing flames of the fire and shakes his head, dark hair falling down in rings around his big, kind face.
“Why do you say that?”
“Yer a smart boy, ye’ll figure it out,” Hagrid winks. “And Hermione too, she ain’t the brightest witch o’ her age for nothing. They are somethin’ , those redheads. Right, Harry?” He goes on to chuckle and Harry can feel himself blush.
Yet he pretends he didn’t understand, finds a good enough excuse to leave and drags his feet back to the castle in the near dark of an end of day, his bag full with rock cakes and untouched homework.
He falls asleep that night holding the Marauder’s Map, eyes boring into Ginny’s dot, waiting for it to move and return to the Common Room, to at least exit the classroom it shared with Dean’s dot for the past hour. Ironic, if Ron only knew there was only one wall between himself and his sister…
Harry’s last thought before he dreams is of Hermione and how lucky she is not to have a magical Map.
____
Over time, one of the strangest things Harry’s realized about his life - which seems quite adventurous to an outsider - is that it’s filled with long stretches of normalcy. The difficulty that is singular to his particular situation, is that even the most calm, boring, normal times feel like borrowed minutes that will turn sour and deadly at any moment.
Living with this sort of dichotomy of feelings leaves him to sleepless or fitful nights, and often a sour stomach that can’t quite manage to settle. As a result, his today breakfast is a sparse affair with barely buttered toast and a cup of tea so strong his spoon could stand.
Overall, when he takes a figurative step back and examines himself, Harry can admit he’s having something of a pity party. His best mates are quarreling like a couple on the verge of divorce, the girl he should think of like a sister is haunting his daydreams in decidedly non sisterly ways, everyone seems to be dating except him, and most days he’s torn between avoiding seeing Ginny and Dean or Ron and Lavender.
Really though, the thing he feels the most angry about is the fact that he really doesn’t have the luxury to dwell on any of that shite. He’s bloody sixteen years old and instead of spending his free time escaping the library and mooning over a girl who fancied him until right about when he...did not. He does not .
Regardless, the point is he’s spending most days diving into a genocidal maniac’s childhood and trying to determine exactly how his classmate is going to wreak dark magic havoc on the unsuspecting student body, rather than wallowing like a good, normal, angsty teenager.
So he does the only thing he knows. After breakfast, Harry manages to wedge himself between students and slip from the hall and out onto the grounds. Nothing like a good fly to calm his wild thoughts, he muses on the way.
He reaches the stands in record time, retrieves his broom and feels it hum to life in his palm, and finally trots out to the snowy pitch. Only to find he’s not the only student with the idea.
And as he watches her fly in graceful arcs across the sky, swirling and sending her hair twisting like a wild red pennant, Harry’s chest clenches.
She flips upside down, arms spread as she lets out a loud whoop and Harry feels himself breathe freely, even if just for a moment, and slips back into the shadows.
#itsblissfulbolivion writes#itsblissfuloblivion#torch#harry x ginny#hinny#hinny fic#ron x hermione#romione#hbp fic#torch chapter 3#torch november
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Unexpected Love
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Pairing: Bill Williamson & Josiah Trelawny
Rating: Teen and up audience
Tags: Smut
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Bill POV
I lean over the table in the empty wooden cabin. Away from praying ears and eyes. I never thought that somone will ever love me. Especially not someone like him. He's way to good for me. I let out a loud moan, as he suddenly push himself into me. He brace himself on my hips, his back flush against mine and he hide his head in the crook of my neck. Ah shit. I let out a deep grunt, as he bottomed out. He's balls deep inside me now.
,,Ah fuck yes." He moans.
His cock isn't as thick as mine, but he's therefore a bit longer than mine. The stretch and to feel him so deep inside me is just wonderful. I love it.
,,You alright love?" He ask worried.
,,I'm fine. Fuck me darling." I whisper.
He feels so good inside me. His mustache scratch on the skin of my neck, but not in a bad way. It feels so good. I love it. He slowly start to thrust into me. A deep grunt leave my mouth. And he let out a sweet moan. I could listen to his beautiful and sweet sounds all day. We're a couple for one week now. He seems to really love me. I'm a hot-headed drunken bastard. He's way to good food me. I wonder what he sees in me. He's the first one ever, who give me love, who show me what love is. I'm glad for that. But I still can't belive that he really love me.
,,Oh yes. Harder baby." I grunt.
And he start to thrust harder into me.
,,Oh yes! Holy fucking shit!" I moan.
He softly moans into my ear. I love it. He fucks me for a while like that, before he gets faster again. He aim his hips a bit differently. And I groan in surprise. He slipped even deeper inside me. I wouldn't have thought that this is possible. And now he hit my prostate with every movement. I let out a deep moan. And he keeps moaning his sweet moans into my ear by every thrust he make.
,,I'm so close Josi-ahhh." I moan.
,,Me too big boy." He whispers.
Two hard thrust later, I cum hard on the table. I can feel how I clench arround him.
,,Fuck Bill! I'm gonna...."
Abd then he cums hard inside of me. It feels warm and oddly good. We both pant heavily. Josiah stays deep inside me. It feels so good.
,,Fuck. This was so damn good." I gasp.
,,Oh yes it was dear boy." Josiah pant.
After a while, Josiah slowly pull himself out of me. A small gasp leave my mouth. I can immideatly feel how Josiah's seeds spill out of me. I can hear how Josiah get something. Than I feel something wet on my behind. Josiah clean me with a rag. Then I stand up straight. I take the rag from Josiah and clean the table. Then I lay the rag down, and turn arround. I look up a bit, and then I lean forward to kiss him. He carefully kiss back.
,,I love you so much." I whisper against his neck.
,,I love you to Angel. So much." He whispers back.
We both get dressed again. Then we lay down on the bed. Josiah place his head on my big hairy chest. He fall asleep immediately. I love him so much. I can't belive that he really loves me too. Then I close my eyes, and the sleep carry me away.
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Kidnapped - Chapter 5
Josiah Trelawny, stopped outside the saloon. He removed his hat.
This wasn't his preferred watering hole in St. Denis. He much preferred the higher class establishment in the centre of town, but his would do. It was a better place to discuss the sort of business he would be discussing today.
He walked through the doors, and waved a greeting to the barkeep, before heading to the back room.
“Ahh Josiah, good to see you,” Dutch greeted, as he poured him a drink.
Josiah placed his hat on the table, and sat down, taking a sip of the alcohol. He nodded. At least the refreshments were better than the locale.
“So, how did your foray go, into the world of fathers and daughters,” Josiah smirked.
Dutch rolled his eyes, “the man’s a real piece of work, his daughter on the other hand.”
Josiah chuckled, “she’s a sweet little thing, he hardly lets her out of the house you know.”
Dutch hummed, and reached down into a bag that was under the table.
“Tell me Josiah, where would a man like Jonah McKenzie obtain garments like this?”
He pulled out the dress that you had been wearing, when you took your little trip into the woods.
Josiah raised his eyebrows, “Not from St. Denis, or Paris. That looks more Italian. Milan? Maybe.”
Dutch nodded, “its what our dear Mr. McKenzie has been dressing his daughter in!”
Josiah chuckled, “only the best, and skimpiest outfits when your trying to marry your daughter off to a rich oil magnate.”
Dutch hummed, and narrowed his eyes, “maybe. What sort of money does a wardrobe like this cost?”
Josiah, took another sip of his drink, and scratched his head. “A whole wardrobe, eh?”
Dutch nodded, “even down to her undergarments and night clothes. All of the finest silk, or gossamer lace!”
Josiah frowned, “too much for a man like McKenzie, maybe I should dig a bit deeper!”
Dutch rolled his eyes, “well you haven't got long. Have you contacted him about where to leave our money?”
Josiah chuckled, “not yet, but the plan is rather cunning. I’ll need the assistance of one of your ladies, Mary-Beth perhaps.”
Dutch narrowed his eyes, “she wont be in any danger?”
Josiah shook his head, “no, not at all, but she will need to dress very smartly! Why don’t we discuss the details back at your country house,” he smirked, “then you can introduce me to the lovely Miss Emmeline!”
“We can discuss it here, Josiah. Now’s not a very good time for her to be seeing strangers.” Dutch advised.
“Nonsense Dutch, all the effort and leads I’ve given you. The least you can do is let me see her!”
Dutch sighed, “very well. Lets head back now, I need to get back anyway.”
The two men stood up and left the bar, heading back to Shady Belle.
Josiah and Dutch hitched their horses and headed towards the main house. Arthur was sitting on the steps. He glanced up and waved to Josiah.
“How’s she been, son,” Dutch asked.
Arthur rolled his eyes, “she was yelling earlier, but I thought it best to leave her alone. She’s probably a bit pissed.”
Dutch nodded, “why don’t you take Josiah up, I’ll be up in a little while. Hopefully she’s calmed down a bit by now.”
Arthur headed into the house with Josiah, whilst Dutch headed over to talk to Hosea.
Josiah frowned as they headed up the stairs. “is she still annoyed about the kidnap.”
Arthur hummed, “not exactly, there was a bit of an incident, she tried to do a runner, so she’s been shackled to the bed.”
“Arthur!” Josiah exclaimed, “that was never part of the plan!”
Arthur shrugged, “plans change, you know that. We never planned to run into trouble in Blackwater!”
Arthur lead Josiah into the upstairs living room, then entered the bedroom.
As soon as he opened the door, he stopped dead.
“Oh fuck!” he exclaimed.
The bed was covered in blood. Blood was dripping from your foot, where the metal had bitten into the flesh.
Arthur ran out of the bedroom, and threw open the doors of the balcony, he yelled down.
“Dutch! Hosea! You better get up here! Bring bandages, and hot water!”
Josiah, stood in the doorway, staring at you.
Arthur shook him, “Josiah, just get out the way, we need to sort this out.”
“Wait Arthur, where’s that camera of yours, take a picture!”
Now it was Arthurs turn to stare, “what!” he exclaimed.
“We can use it for leverage, if her father gets difficult.”
Arthur rolled his eyes, and reached into his satchel. Grabbing the camera, he took a picture of you covered in blood, and shackled to the bed.
“You’re sick sometimes, you know that Josiah,” Arthur hissed.
“Means and ends, Arthur. Means and ends!”
Dutch ran into the room, his face paled, when he saw the blood.
“Emmeline!”
He ran into the room, sitting on the edge of the bed, he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you into his chest, “Emmeline, sweetheart, talk to me!”
Dutch glared at Arthur, “where’s the fucking key Arthur, get that thing off of her!” he yelled.
Arthur ran over to the desk in the sitting room, and fumbled around in one of the drawers, finally finding the key. He rushed back, and unlocked the cuff, removing it from your ankle.
Hosea had followed him in, shaking his head in disbelief.
“I can’t believe you two sometimes,” his hissed.
“Please Hosea, just try and fix it,” Dutch pleaded.
Dutch stroked your face, “Emmeline, come on sweetheart.”
Your eyelids fluttered open, you looked at Dutch, tears welling up in your eyes.
“Why do you hate me? Why doesn’t my daddy love me?” you whimpered.
Dutch cupped your face in his hands, “look at me Emmeline, I don’t hate you, I’m sorry sweetheart, we’re gonna fix this!”
He kissed your forehead.
A tear trickled down your face, “I’m sorry, it wouldn’t come off, I tried, but it wouldn’t come off.”
“Oh Emmie, sweetheart. It wasn't supposed to.”
Dutch wrapped his arms around you, and pulled you into his chest.
“Arthur!” he whispered, “get me a glass of brandy, quickly son!”
Arthur nodded, and headed out into the sitting room. He opened the cabinet, and found Dutch’s stash of Fine brandy, and a glass. He poured a measure, and rushed back into the bedroom.
Arthur handed the glass to Dutch.
“Emmie, Sweetheart, drink this,” Dutch this.
You lifted your head, and Dutch put the glass to your lips.
As you swallowed the alcohol you coughed.
“I...i don’t like it,” you moaned.
Dutch stroked your cheek, “it’ll help, Emmie, just a little bit more.”
You took another sip, and grimaced.
“Good girl,” Dutch, stroked your cheek, and kissed your temple.
“Why did you call me Emmie?” you asked, frowning.
Dutch smiled, “Don’t you like it?”
You rested your head on his chest, “I do like it,” you mumbled.
“Then my little Emmie, that's what I’ll call you,” Dutch purred.
Hosea looked up at Dutch and nodded. Dutch looked at your ankle and it was all bandaged.
“am...am I in trouble,” you whimpered.
“Maybe,” he soothed, “just a little.”
“P...please don’t punish me,” you sobbed, “I’m s...sorry.”
Dutch stroked circles on your back.
“Hush now, Emmie, I think you’ve punished yourself enough already.”
Hosea undid the chain, from the bed. “I’ll get rid of this, do you need anything else?”
Dutch nodded, “I’ll bring her down in a bit, can you ask Susan, to get one of the girls to clean up the blood, and get some fresh bedding.”
Hosea nodded, and left the bedroom.
Dutch looked across at Josiah.
“I’ll talk with you Josiah, in a little while. In the meantime fill Arthur in.”
Josiah nodded, and left with Arthur. They closed the door behind them.
“Now Emmie, we need to get that nightgown off,” Dutch advised.
You shook your head, and brought you arms up to your chest.
“I can’t...can’t be naked!” you exclaimed.
Dutch frowned, “Emmeline, what do good girls do?”
“behave,” you mumbled.
“And what else?” Dutch asked sternly.
“Do as their told?” you proffered.
“Exactly, now what happens if you don't do as your told?” he warned.
Your breath hitched in your throat, “wait...please, I’ll do it.”
Dutch smiled, “good girl, lift up your arms.”
You tentatively raise your arms, as Dutch pulled the hem of the nightdress over your head, and threw it on the floor.
Dutch gently trailed his fingers down your bare back.
“So beautiful,” he whispered, “so delicate. Such a good girl for me.”
Dutch kissed your shoulder, then your neck, then your collarbone.
You lowered your head as you felt your face heating. You’d never been naked in front of anyone before.
Dutch gently put his fingers under your chin, and tilted your head up.
“Emmie, look at me.” he whispered.
Your blue eyes, gazed into his brown ones.
“Tell me, who’s good girl are you?” he asked.
“Y...yours.” you stuttered.
“who’s gonna look after you,” he continued.
“Y...you are,” you answered.
Dutch smiled, and gently kissed your lips.
Dutch stood up, and grabbed a spare shirt out of his dresser.
He slowly dressed you in his shirt, leaving a few buttons undone at the top. The shirt was large, and just hung off your shoulders, leaving the tops of your shoulders bare, but covering the arms. It was as long as your nightdress, so looked a little like a nightshirt. The material, was soft to the touch. The looseness of the garment, made it more comfortable than your nightdress.
Despite being laundered, his scent still lingered on the material.
“Put your arms around my neck Emmie?” Dutch urged.
As you did, he lifted you up, carrying you bridal style.
“Will you always look after me?” you asked
Dutch smiled, “always, princess.”
“Even after daddy pays you?” you added.
Dutch chuckled, “Even after that.”
You frowned, “won’t he and Mr. Cornwall be angry.”
Dutch laughed, “yes princess, they’ll be furious!”
#rdr2 fanfic#original female character#dutch van der linde#josiah trelawny#arthur morgan#hosea matthews#wattpad#a03
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How about a HC on the kinks of each camp member, I'm pretty sure even the greatest of villains had a weak, guilty spot somewhere ;P (I don't think it needs any reader interaction but of gender neutral.)
I had actually planned on doing this, so thank you for giving me more of a reason to do it! I’m aware that some of the things I included aren’t really kinks, but I feel like they’re important to mention, none the less. Some people don’t have as many kinks as others, just because I hc them as pretty vanilla. There are also a couple characters that I left out, either because I forgot them or I figured there wouldn’t be that much interest in them anyway. So, sorry Uncle fuckers, it’s just not your day ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Abigail - Facesitting. Will sit on her partner’s face like it’s a fucking throne. She looks real pretty up there too. Dirty Talk. Domination (switch, but she prefers to dom). She’s a very gentle dom, but she makes it very clear as to what she wants. When she’s with John, there’s a constant power struggle. Spanking. Mostly on the receiving end, but might be down to use those hands if her partner is really into it.
Arthur - Praise. Constantly telling his partner what a good girl/boy they are and uses lots of sweet pet names. Mutual Masturbation. He also has a thing for masturbating in front of his partner/to the sight of them, especially early on in the relationship. Light Spanking. The last thing he wants to do is actually hurt his partner. Dirty Talk. He does most of the talking but loves hearing it back as well. Body Worship on both ends. Sometimes he just wants to be told how handsome and sexy he is, ok?
Charles - Outdoor Sex. Biting. Usually when he gets close to finishing. He mostly does it so he can keep himself quiet. Afterwards, he kisses any mark he may leave on his partner. Light Spanking. He’s got big, strong hands so he has to restrain himself. Edging. Praise. Primal Play. Face Sitting. Loves having his partner up on top of him, paws at their chest as he pleasures them. General Rough Sex (w lots of sweet, loving aftercare to follow). Body Worship. Gets really flustered if he’s on the receiving end, but he enjoys it none the less.
Dutch - Daddy Kink. Degradation. Gagging. Can’t have his partner waking up the whole camp now, can he? Light Bondage. Spanking/Belting. Lies his partner down on his cot, ass up, and goes to town on them with his belt. If they make any noise, he gags them and goes way harder 👀. Domination (he’s a dom, and not a particularly nice one).
(Sorry for the cut, there’s just like,,, 13 more of these and I don’t want to annoy people by clogging up their dash with a wall of text!!)
Grimshaw - Domination (dom, she runs the show, no matter who she’s with). Thinking about the constant power struggle between her and Dutch makes me feel some kinda way. Praise. I don’t think this is a kink, but Scratching. Marks her partners all to Hell. Back, thighs, shoulders when they eat her out… you name it. Dirty Talk. God she loves hearing it but is fucking fantastic at giving it. A true Queen. Face Sitting. Tell her how hot she is while she’s up there and she’ll die. Not an all the time thing, but she digs complete and utter Body Worship now and then because she’s getting a little insecure in her old age.
Hosea - Slow/Passionate Sex, but in his prime, Hosea used to be a real stud. Not really a kink, per se, but he loves Spooning. He keeps one hand on his partner’s chest, holding them close, and another stimulating them. Has a thing for Toys, though they’re not readily available. Cock rings are his favourite, just because it helps him stay hard longer. Praise. Edging, though he can’t handle it himself. He encourages his partner to hold off, it’s really sweet. Not sure what it’s called, but he has a thing for younger folk. Probably in their mid to late 20s or early 30s.
John - A true king of Power Bottoming. Biting, but that’s just the raccoon in him coming out. His partner needs to get a rabies shot before they have sex. Mostly on his partner’s neck and thighs. General Rough Sex, but also slows it down sometimes. Light/Playful Degradation, nothing too extreme. Even though he’s not super into giving oral, if he’s with a lady he loves Face Sitting. He might be willing to have a male partner sit on his face, but I think he’d really have to be with the right fella. Domination (a switch, but I’m leaning more towards dom). Light Bondage, tie this boy up and ride him!! He goes crazy!!
Javier - Light Knife Play. Mostly just for show, but sometimes he will run it across his partner’s skin and draw a lil bit of blood. He has cut his hand all to Hell fucking you with the handle of his knife before. Daddy Kink (prolly in Spanish 🤤). Domination (he’s a dom, not into being submissive). General Rough Sex. He can be very aggressive, so be warned. Facesitting. Choking. Usually, he grabs your throat to make you look him in the eyes, especially when he’s about to finish. Praise/Degradation. He goes from calling his partner a whore to ‘mi corazon’ in .0002 seconds flat. Self-proclaimed king of Dirty Talk.
Karen - Ok this girl is so into Rough Sex I have no idea how she was with Sean. Domination (such a good lil sub, but does like to have control sometimes). Choking. Deepthroating or if she’s with a lady Facesitting. Just likes to be messy in general. Praise. Likes to receive it, but she can and will give it back. Likes NEEDS to be coddled and told how beautiful she is afterwards, so I’ll throw in Body Worship as well. Light Bondage; she is the prettiest rope bunny.
Kieran - Mutual Masturbation, especially when the relationship is new. He’s not very experienced, so taking things slow would make him much more comfortable. That being said, Clothed Sex is also a thing that Kieran enjoys. Praise. Outdoor Sex. He loves to sneak away from camp and get it on in a meadow or somewhere else that’s pretty and quiet :,) Domination (he’s a sub and he NEEDS to be told what to do), but he does best with a sweet and gentle dom. Overstimulation, on both ends. Particularly enjoys it when he’s on the receiving end, even though he swears he doesn’t in the moment.
Lenny - My baby boy. I don’t think he’s that kinky tbh. Deepthroating is a big thing for him though. Loves to look at his partner absolutely choke on his length. Which is a little out of character, but we all have our weaknesses. Actually, Oral is a big thing for him in general. He always, always, always, makes sure his partner’s needs are taken care of. The amount of Praise this boy gives is unbelievable. When he gets it back, he gets a little flustered, but it’s surely a soft spot for him. Especially if his partner tells him he’s a good boy, or something similar. He has really long Fingers and loves to have his partner suck on them before he goes to town on them. Lenny is a pretty vanilla boy but I love him anyway.
Mary-Beth - Slow/Passionate Sex. Not exactly a kink, but Erotica. She probably has some of her steamiest encounters written down somewhere. She often touches herself while re-reading them. Body Worship. She can be kinda insecure, so she loves hearing how beautiful she is. On the flip side, if you’re her partner, expect to be treated like a queen/king. Forreal.
Micah - General Rough Sex. Domination (a very, very mean dom). Gun Play. For show, mostly. But sometimes he does have his partner suck off the barrel of one of his guns, that’s hot. Degradation. Deepthroating is probably his biggest weakness. Loves seeing his partner gagging and choking on his cock. He doesn’t feel the least bit bad about it either. Belting/Spanking. He really overdoes it sometimes oops. Orgasm Denial, his partner really has to work for it if they want to cum.
Molly - Praise/Degradation. Call her little pet names and she’ll melt. But also responds well to being called mean names when she’s been ‘bad’. Domination (totally a sub). She likes a dom that will be rough, yet loving with her. Spanking. Bonus points if her partner makes her count the spanks as they go along. Edging. She gets really squirmy and whiny and by the end, she gets really flustered and swears to God that she’ll never do it again, but she always does :))
Sadie - General Rough Sex, usually the one to initiate… Y’know. Light Slapping, Spanking, the usual. Domination (dom, but does like to switch it up sometimes). Super into Oral, won’t fuck her partner unless she’s given them a nice sloppy blowjob or left their legs shaking from eating them out. She’s also into receiving. She loves sitting on her partner’s face, but I would describe it more as FaceRiding because she really puts in the extra work up there. Likes to hear her partner use some Dirty Talk. She tries her best to reciprocate, but she gets flustered and can’t do it very well.
Sean - Light Bondage. Another boy that likes to be tied up and ridden. But this one gets very bratty very fast. FaceSitting. He swears he wants to die by being drowned in pussy. Can we make that canon? Loves giving Facials. Always tells his partner how fucking pretty/handsome they look with his cum all over their face. Praise for days. Loves to give it, loves to have it thrown back at him. Especially if he’s going down on his partner.
Trelawny - Heavy Bondage. Whipping/Cropping. We love a BDSM king. Domination (he’s obv the dom). Idk what to call this, but he has a thing for Fingers. Loves to have his partner suck on them, and vice versa. Expect a lot of fingering in foreplay. Praise. Always tells his partner how good they’re doing, especially when things get intense. Edging/Overstimulation and he will be MEAN about it too. Orgasm Denial if his partner is ‘naughty.’
#abigail marston#abigail roberts#arthur morgan#charles smith#dutch van der linde#susan grimshaw#hosea matthews#john marston#javier escullea#karen jones#kieran duffy#lenny summers#mary-beth gaskill#micah bell#molly o'shea#sadie adler#sean macguire#josiah trelawny#Red Dead Redemption#Red Dead Redemption 2#red dead redemption headcanons#red dead redemption headcanon#red dead redemption 2 headcanon#red dead redemption 2 headcanons#red dead headcanon#red dead headcanons#red dead 2 headcanon#red dead 2 headcanons#rdr 2 headcanons#rdr headcanons
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There was no reason, no reason at all, why he should be seeing the man again. Well, no rational one. But there he was, back at the goddamn Molly-house, and after what Trelawny trudged him through he was really needing something to look up to.
Well... It was that and the fact that Dutch said Isaac was ready to start earning his keep like one of them men. He might have been almost 17, but the boy ain’t meant for that. Dutch insisted.
And Arthur did as asked: took Isaac with Charles to rescue Trelawny. With it all on his head he almost got strangled in one of them cornfields – if it weren’t for Charles. Big man shot the bastard. Thankfully Isaac ain’t seen more than an Arthur a bit out of breath, but that was the usual for the two of them... Then to take the kid stagecoach robbing with Trelawny of all people.
He said no. And if it weren’t for Abigail and Miss Grimshaw, he might have not seen the end of it. Micah of all people jumped in Dutch’s defense about Arthur taking his kid robbing, like some lunatic. But what word out of Micah’s mouth can he trust.
Turned out to be nothing dangerous – unless you value your eardrums and possibly your sanity.
And here he found himself; hoping to see a familiar face. What a strange world. Bein’ always on the move felt right, even if with that you left behind every single person you could have considered a friend before. Maybe it was Isaac; maybe it was them both, that kept returning to the same people to see if they were all a’right; that the world ain’t done ‘em in yet.
“You looking for something, honey?” a woman asked.
“I-” Arthur looked around her. “Yes. You know Sebastian? Castellanos?”
“Oh, he’s inside, honey.” She fluttered her fan. “If you swing both ways just you know I’m waiting, pretty bh’oy.”
He’s into women a’right but that’s ain’t what he’s here for. Arthur gets inside. A few of the boys there, give him looks up and down. He glares back. A breath gets caught in his chest.
“I’m just lookin’ for a friend that’s all.” Arthur puts his hands up, announcing loudly.
And sure enough there he was: in a cream coat, head slumped between his hands.
“Sebastian?”
A hand on his shoulder that stops him from going any further:
“He’s out of it, pardner. Let him have that.”
Arthur pushes the man off: “What’s happened?”
“Dunno. Been cranky an’ gloomy ever since he came back from that Valentini feller this morning.”
“Touch ‘im and you’ll hear a man hiss.” A brawny man laughed from behind a table.
“I heard that.” Sebastian growled from there. The saloon wasn’t all that big.
“So? Ain’t seen you this pissy since you came- wait no. I did. Whenever someone mentions that precious lil’ daughter of yours-”
Sebastian bolted straight up, step harsh and fast, fists raised. Arthur and the other man barely managed to hold him back.
“STAY OUT OF IT!” The man was all a rage; Arthur held him firm, the other boy however flinched away. Sebastian snarls like some animal, turns ‘round an grabs at Arthur’s clothes: “I said. Stay out of it.” It was a bellow, a rumble from deep within the chest.
They’re too close. He can smell the whiskey on his breath. He’s probably drunk. A quick gaze down- bandages? And bloody at that.
“You need to calm down, friend...” Arthur says, low, serious.
“We ain’t friends, Mister Morgan.” Sebastian lets go of him and Arthur returns the gesture, then man storms out. Limping.
A glance at the other two strangers, who are in shock, especially the brutish one, pale as a ghost.
“Guess I’ll go talk to him then...” Arthur says, finally walking outside.
Sebastian’s leaned against a wall and he tries to approach with caution. He stands by him, saying nothing. With a trembling hand Sebastian lights up a cigarette and takes a really long draw from it.
“Why are you here?” No anger now, more like heartache.
“I don’t know.”
Silence. For a while.
“I have nothing you want.” Sebastian puffs out.
“Maybe it’s the other way around.”
A dry laugh: “And what the fuck would I need from you?”
“You’re bleedin’. Did you have anyone take a look at those wounds?”
Sebastian pins him with a gaze; another long, heavy inhale from the cigarette, the head falls to look at the ground again with the smoky exhale.
“That ain’t your business.”
“It ain’t been your business saving my ass back there.” Arthur snapped; lips pursed when the mouth closes. Sebastian stood quiet. “Look, I ain’t a good man, but I gotta give back what was given to me.” Putting it into words made it clearer.
“Was a pelt not enough?...”
“No.” And that’s ‘cause Sebastian saved his life for the sake of his son and he can’t even think what it would of meant to the boy if he was to die. Like that of all things... “Take care of ye’rself, Sebastian.”
Another draw; a puff. “You too, Arthur.”
As if that’s meant as a goodbye...
“Let’s get you to a doctor to have a look at those.” Arthur speaks up again. “You patched them ye’rself?”
No reply for a long while: “Yeah.”
Arthur unglued himself from the wall, a hand round his back: “C’mon.”
For once the man followed along. Arthur knew the way to the Doctor by now, and unlike the other time this was leisurely. Steps were taken in silence.
At least halfway through the walk:
“How are you feeling...” Sebastian asks, voice quiet.
“The wounds healed long ago.” It’s a smile. “I’m good.” In no small part thanks to him.
Sebastian spared Isaac...
The Doctor gave them both a look upon entering, but Sebastian went into the office alone. Arthur waited outside. It was a sunny day when him and Isaac got here. Now the sun was hidden between clouds, air hot, soupy, electricity in the air, prickling on his skin. Arthur rubbed his arms, drawing in air between his teeth. Then an exhale as head was left to hang low. Eyes close.
He knew why he was here. But it ain’t a clear thought inside his head, but a feeling inside his chest. Oh, how much of a fool he feels he’s gonna be... Same foolishness got him here and many other places. Somehow through all of this he has a son. A son of all things... He was barely 19 when Isaac was born and he ain’t known what to do back then. He half guessed all of it to be perfectly honest.
But he ain’t ever gonna forget the day he brought Isaac back. They shot his mother, Eliza, poor girl, for 10 bucks or something. The kid, 4 at the time, ran and hid under some crates, so people made two crosses. Yet somehow Arthur still looked inside the house and found the poor boy, pale as a ghost and dirty, perched upon the bed with a wild look in his face. Isaac had his mother’s rich brown eyes; in them he still saw embers glowing green when angered or when the sun shone on his face and the boy laughed-
The click of the doorknob stole the thoughts from him:
“Everything a’ri-”
Sebastian just went and grabbed his collar with force, then just stared, lips a thin line and eyes glistening, wet. Head bows as both fists crumple his shirt. Heart drums within his chest and he ain’t knowin’ quite hot to react. Well, man pinned him before, but this ain’t a time requiring of such kindnesses. Lips puckered Arthur stood there, huffing.
“You shouldn’t’ave to look after me...” Is that where this all comes from? Did he disturb his lone wolf antics ‘cause he decided to be a decent human for once in his goddamn life of robbery and murder? If that’s so why in Christ’s name would you save his ass, Sebastian? Arthur’s jaws clench- “Thank you...” Sebastian spoke slow, low, breathy. And muscles soften.
And he wouldn’t let go.
“What the doctor say?” Arthur’s voice was probably rougher than intended, but can you blame him: he’s pinned to a goddamn wall by the man he was tryinna’ help!
“Health cure, bed rest...”
“Need a drink?...” Arthur’s still within his grip. “You sure look like ye’r needin’ it.”
“Yeah...” Sebastian, at last, let go. “I’ll buy you a whiskey.”
For all that trouble, you better be-
They got the whiskey in the next bar over; a shoddy, grim place that may or may not be crawling with rats. And the goddamn drink was 2$ each shot. No chance they getting drunk on it; they ain’t that rich.
They still got themselves two rounds of the thing. And he really wanted to say this for some reason:
“You know the night I brought Isaac back, after his mother got robbed to death, the boy cried all the way. I thought he died when he finally had no more lungs to scream. He looked at me with the fiercest eyes. He wouldn’t go sleep. Stood on my bed, glaring at everyone like a cornered racoon. I took him in my arms – he was 4 at the time, lil’ thing – and he fell asleep there. I ain’t been a father before that. Only visited from time to time. I just... I had to protect that kid.”
What’s 2 more dollars? Arthur threw the cents for his glass to be filled again. He barely waited for it, drinking the liquor in one go. It burned.
Then Arthur continued: “And somehow I think I failed.”
“You’re still a better father than I ever was, Arthur. They took my daughter... Wife, the new Sheriff. I used to be a Sheriff. In Rhodes. It’s been... 5 years...” Sebastian sounds entirely exhausted, words roll out with sighs. “She was so young... She was... 5 I think. Maybe 6...” Fists slam on the bar: “All because some fucking Nightfolk!”
“Sir, keep it down or I’ll have to ‘kindly’ escort ya out.”
“Sorry...” Sebastian bows his head and huffs- or maybe it was a sob.
“I’m so sorry for what happened, Sebastian. I really am.” A hand plants on the man’s back; it trembled.
Sebastian waves him away: “We should be leaving...” He even stands up.
And Arthur follows him outside.
“She was so small...” Sebastian continues, rested against the wall, hat on his head, tipped forward. “She was so small in my arms.” His arms cradled air. “Such a sweet little thing. She would be playing with my fingers, stick ‘em in her mouth and chew on them like a puppy.” That may be the first time Arthur’s heard him laugh. “So small, so fierce, she kept tugging at her mother’s hair, so she handed her to me ‘cause I had no locks.” Smile fades. “And I ain’t sure if I ever loved her as I should... I like women; guess I like men better...” Tone shifts to a growl. “And that was a problem. That and the undead in the bayou.”
Arthur couldn’t help it: “Watchu mean the undead in the bayou-”
“It’s... a long story.” Then head tilts up to look at him. Yeah, Sebastian’s eyes are wet, dried tears in the corners, but his gaze is soft. “You really ain’t got a problem with me bein’ your friend?”
‘cause Sebastian liked men?...
“ ‘couse not.”
“Hm...” head tilts back down. “That’s... good to hear.” For a moment Sebastian’s hand ghosts over Arthur’s, leaned over the wall. But only for a moment. It sent a shiver down his chest. “Thank you... Once again.”
He should probably get back to camp, to Isaac. He’s been gone for too long. And well, he sort of told the boy that he’ll be seeing Sebastian, but well not directly.
The alcohol made him dizzy. He stood silent.
“And I’m sorry I’ve been an asshole.” Sebastian continues; it had Arthur snorting.
“You better be.” Tone’s harsh. And then a sigh. “Guess I should be goin’ then.”
“Take care of yourself, Arthur.”
“You too, Sebastian.”
So it was a goodbye after all...
#red dead redemption 2#rdr2 tag#rdr2 fanfic#arthur morgan#sebthur#Sebastian Castellanos#isaac morgan#and here on ao3#https://archiveofourown.org/works/20807618/chapters/49493750#HJEJKRHEWKJHRJWKER CHAPTER 3 WE'RE GETTING THERE
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