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anithesunshineoutlaw · 2 months

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The Van der Linde Boys Romantic Headcanons

( Realistic, Includes: Dutch Van der Linde, Javier Escuella, Bill Williamson, Charles Smith, Lenny Summers, Micah Bell, Kieran Duffy )

Trigger Warning: Manipulation on Micah's part

Dutch Van der Linde - Words of Affirmation/ Physical touch

• Dutch is one smooth man. He knows exactly how to hit right into your heart. And he does it well. But his honeyed words aren't the only thing charming about him. He does it unexpectedly most times, you never know when you'll have him take your hand and hold it like he's holding diamonds in his grasp. When he'll come from behind and hold you to him like you are everything he has ever wanted. When he will pull you into a slow dance and whisper sweet nothings into your ear. You never know.

He is patient though, he knows when to give you space and wait.

Javier Escuella - Words of Affirmation/ Physical touch, Acts of service

• Javier can basically be described as golden. While he is far from perfect, he emphasizes his good qualities so much, it's hard to see him as anything but the best. If he loves you, he will show it. He will shower you in compliments and treat you like the most precious gem on the Earth. While he would love showering you in affectionate nicknames and all that, he wouldn't go too fast. He takes things slow, takes his time winning you over. There are times he acts completely casual with you and then suddenly, he's treating you like royalty and placing a kiss on your hand as he rambles about how wonderful you are. It's a bit confusing sometimes.

Anyways, when he's calmer, he has other ways to show his love for you. Like sharing your work, he takes the hard part, you get the easy one. And for every mission he can, it's always like that. It's his way of showing his will to care for you and the ability to mutually grow together in the future.

Bill Williamson - Acts of service/ Quality time

• Bill is a little confused when it comes to romance. Frankly, he doesn't know how to act. He's trying, he really is but he's not good at it. He believes he has to proof himself to you so the only way he knows how to woo you is by taking care of things for you. He constantly works and does your job in order to get your attention. He will never admit he is searching for it and even if he receives your attention, he'll act as if he doesn't want it. But he does, if you acknowledge his efforts, it would keep him awake at night for the whole week.

He's very reclusive in a way but he tries to spend time with you without being obvious, he acts like it's all casual and friendly hangout but it means a lot more to him than that.

Charles Smith - Physical touch/ Acts of service

• Charles isn't very open about his affection. Not that he denies it but he doesn't talk about it often. So besides admiring you from afar, his way of revealing his care is by subtle touches. Holding your waist when passing by you, brushing his hand slightly against yours while you walk together, tucking a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, you name it. He doesn't comment on his actions but it's often you see him smile slightly when he gets to interact with you. He's of course very careful and he would immediately stop if he notices it bothers you.

Another way he likes to show his love for you is by taking care of your work for you. He'll often take on your chores, help you with a mission or even offer to take your place for a task so you get to rest. It's his way of showing he values you.

Lenny Summers - Quality time

• Lenny's way of courting is most out of all spending time together. He would take every chance to see you and get into a conversation with you. He's a good listener and an even better charmer. His confidence and intelligent insight show off what he could offer to you but he also makes sure to express tenderness and vulnerability as to present himself the way he fully is and the way he hopes for you to accept him in the future. He wants to show he's always going to be upfront with you and that if it comes to it, he wouldn't shy away from fixing his flaws and working on himself. For you both.

He doesn't overwhelm you with compliments but he doesn't miss the chance to share his thoughts on everything he admires about you either. He would share what he sees in you but there's never pressure for you to reciprocate those feelings. You could brush him off and he would respect it just as he respects you.

Micah Bell - Words of affirmation/ "Acts of service"

• Micah as terrible as he is, knows how to play his cards right. He is manipulative and observant, if he wants you, he will use your deepest desire to get to you. So, of course his main love language would be words of affirmation. Lying is practically his second nature, he can easily envelope flattery with qualities you like and by the end of it, he would hope he'll have you wrapped around his finger.

However if that doesn't work, he has other ways. Such as acts of service. Make no mistake though, he won't actually help you. Not with anything important. He'll either do something himself and expect a reward from it because he did it for you or he'll actually help you with a minor inconvenience and expect to be treated as your hero. Nothing in between.

Kieran Duffy - Quality time/ Words of affirmation

• Kieran isn't exactly the most bold with his approach yet at the same time he wants to express his love for you somehow. So as nervous as he may feel, he would share just how perfect you are to him. In a slightly childish way, but he means well. He would trust you so he would hang around you the most. Sometimes it's like you are being followed by a lost puppy but really, he just likes your company and he wants to enjoy it as long as possible.

He would admittedly be a little awkward sometimes as he would try to probably impress you in some way. He seems the type to get into his crush's interests so he would most definitely try a hobby you enjoy for himself. He may not like it but he would still show interest towards your feelings about it. He likes listening to you ramble so he often ends up staying quiet and staring at you with a certain lovestruck gaze. Before of course hurriedly replaying once it's his turn to speak.

#red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption two #x reader #rdr2 headcanons #rdr2 x reader #dutch x reader #charles smith x reader #javier escuella x reader #kieran duffy x reader #micah bell x reader #bill williamson #romantic headcanons #tw: manipulation #lenny summers

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chaos-smh · 2 months

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Dutch Van Der Linde Headcanons

a/n: sorry for the delay in posting! this is probably a bit ooc but dutch is hard to write for phew. hope y'all enjoy!

pairing/s: dutch van der linde x fem!reader

content: suggestive content, smut, dom!dutch, hand kink?, established relationship, d/s dynamics, sub!reader, fluff?, dirty talk

word count: 790 words

minors dni!!🔞

Dutch can’t keep his hands off you. It almost felt as if there wasn’t a single moment in the day where his dexterous fingers weren’t resting on you, pressing into your supple flesh with his rings cool against your skin. It didn’t matter to him if everybody else was watching when he would crane your neck with his calloused hand and force you to look at him. However, what he savored the most was those moments in the depths of the nights when he would grasp at your flushed face, stifling your breath and muffling your cries of pleasure. The night would usually end with his hands soaked with your own tears and drool. Although, nothing could match your awe for the rings he wore and Dutch loved to tease you about it. “Oh? You want me to keep them on, do you sweetheart?” He would soon have you grasping at him and blushing hard when he curled his fingers inside of you with the cold jewelry soon drenched with your own slick.

Dutch loves reading to you. Being the type of man that he is, Dutch took a certain pleasure in explaining things to you but he especially enjoyed when he was able to read to you. It surprised him when you had first asked but he was quick to fulfill your request. There was something about the way that the words would roll of his tongue and how his baritone voice would resonate in his chest which you fell in love with. It gave you butterflies when you would rest up against his chest with his arms around you as he read page after page into the late hours of the night. However, you quickly found yourself loosing track of the narrative when you would simply become mesmerized by the way he spoke to you. “You just like my voice, don’t you, my dear?”

Dutch loves to spoil you. He took pride in the way that he was presented and perceived and he insisted that you should too. The gifts had started off very small but each one came with its own meaning, whether it was romantic or something which would make you to giggle. It became noticeable when the gang started to receive a steady flow of money as bottles of expensive perfume and lavish dresses would find their way to you. He relished in being able to dress you up and show you off like you were his own little doll. However, presents weren’t the only thing that he spoiled you with. Whenever you pleased him enough, he was kind enough to reward you. Dutch would honor you with deep thrusts which would leave you shaking and begging in a puddle of your own pleasure by the end of the night. “You can’t take anymore? But you’ve been such a good girl.”

Dutch always leaves his mark on you. It was clear that Dutch took pride in his work and that included you. There was nothing that gave him more of a thrill than being able to see the chorus of colors that littered your neck after a long night well spent. Your cheeks would burn the next day when you would attempt to go about your daily routine and try to avoid the teasing jokes from the other girls. However, you always caught the smug look and satisfied grin on Dutch’s face as he stood proud with a cigar on his lips and looked over you. Dutch also made it sure that you couldn’t sit. Deep shades of blue and purple smothered your behind as he would smack his ringed hand against the supple flesh for what would feel like hours. He enjoyed watching you waddle around the next day.

Dutch has a need to always be in control. Whenever Dutch lost control, he always knew at the end of the day that you would be there to submit to him. You would be stupid to challenge his authority or disobey his word. Whether you were strung out over his lap or forced on your knees, he was quick to remind you who was in charge. Your nights together would be spent in deep bliss as he would coax out your submission with long and unforgiving thrusts, making sure to leave you sobbing for your own release. His firm teachings didn’t just remain in the bedroom though, as he made it habit to let everyone know who you belonged to. Dutch adored the blush on your face when you would refer to him as ‘sir’ and he relished in the way you squirmed when he made you sit on his lap. “Don’t pout now, or do I need to remind you who you belong to.”

#rdr2 x reader #red dead redemption two #red dead 2 #dutch van der linde #dutch x reader #dutch headcanons #van der linde gang #rdr2 smut #dutch van der linde smut #dutch van der linde rdr2 #dutch van der linde x reader #fanfic #rdr2

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dilfssleepingbag · 8 months

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Dutch Van der Linde NSFW HCs:

Minors Dni!

Fem ‘reader’

Calls you “darling”, “sweetheart”, “doll” and “love”

He loves spanking you. You wanna act like a brat? Alright, you will get treated like one (he sometimes leaves his rings on) “someone seems to have forgotten their manners. Don’t worry, doll..I shall teach you a lesson you won’t forget so easily” “who do you think you’re talking to like that, huh? Need me to put your mouth to better use?”

He enjoys to see your skin turn red under his touch, especially when the shape of his hand imprints on your butt (or face)

Has a daddy kink/ authority kink. He feels a surge of power and dominance whenever you call him “sir”, “daddy” or even “Mr Van der Linde”. “Yeah, that’s right, doll. Let them know who your daddy is”

Smokes one of his cigars after he successfully railed your brain into another dimension (he wouldn’t smoke around you if you dislike the smell)

His fingers…hdhjwbd… he def knows what he’s doing with them- like- just look at them and yk what I mean

He’s a big fan of orgasm denial “don’t cum until I give you permission, darling”

However…should you cum before that he will overstimulate you until you’re crying and begging for him to stop “oh? I thought that’s what you wanted, sweetheart. So take it and handle it like a good girl”

He usually has to cover your mouth in order to silence your moans and cries or the whole camp would hear you “ssh, you want everyone to hear your lewd sounds?” And you’d just nod and have him chuckle darkly “dirty girl”

One of his favorite positions is cowgirl. Dutch enjoys to see you flustered when he looks down at you and enjoys how it makes you look away. “ah ah, eyes back on me” he’d say as he grabs your face and turns it back in his direction.

He also loves to see you struggle to make yourself cum on his dick. Either your legs fail you or his dick just doesn’t hit the right angle “what’s wrong, doll? Need the old Mr. Van der Linde to help you out?”

He’ll make you cum one way or another. Dick, mouth, fingers. You name it, you receive it (but only if you’ve been a good girl)

Dutch is good at eating you out, the prickling of beard only adds to the sensational feeling he gives you and you buck your hips to get more of that.

He also enjoys you riding his face. The first time he told you to do so you got all embarrassed and tried to refuse his offer by saying that you’re too heavy and could suffocate him. He just grabbed you and positioned you over his head “will you sit down, girl? It should be considered an honorable death if I die by eating your cunt.”

If you were to suck him off he will make sure to humiliate or mock you before that. Dutch will slap his dick on your cheek and lips while looking amused “oh? You want it that bad, huh? I don’t see you making any efforts to earn my dick yet though. Keep begging, darling” (would smoke one of his cigars while he looks down at you (unless you hate the smell))

If you finally get what you longed he will tell you to thank him “darling, where are your manners, huh? Say ‘thank you, daddy’” (he will mock you for thanking him “what are you thanking me for, doll? Tell me why you’re thanking me”)

Dutch will throw your legs over his shoulder and fuck you hard and deep. He will place kisses on your ankles when he slows down and looks at your flushed face “taking me so well, darling”. He would lean forward and press your legs closer to your body as the mating press position allows him to slide deeper. “You like that?” He would press his hand down on your abdomen before playing with your clit with his other hand. “Aww look at you, doll. Such a cockdumb little slut”

He is also quite fond of choking you. Breathplay shows him how much you trust him and he’s easily turned on by that.

He likes marking what’s his. You will wake up with hickeys and bite marks on your tits, hips and inner thighs (he’s too much of a gentleman and saves you the embarrassment to walk around with hickeys on your neck..tho the camp most likely knows already what you did last night) And damn, will he be proud of looking at them the next day

He will praise you by calling you his “good girl” or saying “that’s it, you’re doing so well for me”, “that’s my girl, keep going”, “got myself such a good little whore, didn’t I?”

He’s good at aftercare. Makes sure to hold you close and place kisses on your head and forehead. His hands run soothingly over your legs all while he whispers sweet nothings into the depths of night

Some ppl who were interested in reading the hcs:

@photo1030 @pigeonsareevil @laureliciousdefinition @roamingtigress

#dutch van der linde #rdr2 #dutch x reader #arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #Dutch van der linde x reader #I need to touch some grass #rdr x reader #arthur morgan x reader #delulu #red dead redemption x reader

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wrr000 · 1 year

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Van Der Linde gang when you randomly kiss them - short headcanons PART 2

AN: I'm posting this as fast as I wrote it 'cause I'm afraid of burning out AGAIN. Hope y'all like this! Feedback appreciated :]

»»————-　♡　————-««

Featuring: Dutch, Sean, Kieran, Micah (KIERAN STANS ASSEMBLE!)

Summary: pure fluff (and I mean a BIG FLUFF), kissing on the cheek (just to clarify)

Warnings: none, just really short

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈«

--Dutch

On one hand he is paranoid and bounty for his head is always on Dutch's mind so it would be normal that he's on high alert even in the camp

On the other hand he's usually reading a book and his thoughts are drifting in the fantasy/idealized worlds from the novels

When you came from behind with a gentle kiss on his cheek he immediately wanted to drew a gun

Luckily he quickly realized it was you *sigh of relief*

"Oh dear-- If you want a kiss just ask, I could have shoot you!"

But he isn't angry, just stressed and tired

After a while he pulls you closer to him into a tight hug and kisses your forehead

Don't feel bad! He knows that you didn't mean no harm and finds it kinda sweet

His little lover wants his attention which means you love him and think about old Van der Linde in your free time

Dutch is sure happy to have you and he's all for your kisses, but would appreciate if you changed the form of affection

You can always surprise him in other ways! Sneaking from behind leave for more peacful times

--Sean

He did not saw it coming, you got him there

BUT Sean would pretend like you didn't 'cause you know--'everybody loves him and he always expect affection' (you know that talk, we all heard it, right)

Inside he's so fluttered and happy and you can tell that by a stupid grin on his cute face

"Oi beautiful, you love me that much that you can last a minutes without me?"

He wraps his arms around your waist, kissing you back

One kiss on the cheek, one on the lips, one on the nose... And there's no end

Boy is just so in love with you that he doesn't want to let you go, not now at least

Little attention seeker will make the most of the opportunity to spend a sweet time with his beloved

Sean adores everything you do and especially when it involves him so please do it more

You trying to surprise him and make him feel loved it's what melt his outlaw heart!

He's always up for your kisses and hugs :>

--Kieran

HIS SOUL LEFT HIS BODY--HEART ATTACK--THE BOY JUST DIED

Everyone is threatening him in the camp so Kieran is constantly very stressed

It wasn't much of a surprise, but he isn't upset with you! He knows that you mean no harm

More like glad that wasn't a Sadie or Bill coming for his head

Big sigh of relief from him, but you felt kinda bad anyway

"Ah--! You scared me, babe! But it's glad to see you"

Smile crawled on his pale, but slighly red face as he gently returned a kiss

This sight broke your heart, so you embraced him, pressing your lover tightly to yourself

He hugged you back of course, it makes him feel loved and he doesn't want to let you go (your body feels so safe to him)

Kieran is really REALLY happy to have you a walking sunshine in this waking nightmare

I can asure you that this boy loves you very much and deeply

He's so happy when you two are close and you're showing him affection, but maybe try not to scare him next time

Try anything but that, you can even surprise him with a nice flower and he would be grateful!

JUST GIVE HIM ANY LOVE AND PROTECT HIM AT ALL COSTS, HE NEEDS IT

--Micah

You gave him a goosebos, but he would act like the knows you're coming to surprise him

Acting all tough, unphased and irritated just to fool you

Or maybe he was a little scared that he let his guard down and you managed to sneak to him from behind? Guess we will never know

"I knew it was you. Why are you even tryin', cutie pie?"

But on the inside he's kinda fluttered 'cause he can't hide it that your kisses are good

Not to mention that in some way he enjoys you crawling for his attention

He may not kiss you back (maybe in private) , but he pulls you closer to him, placing one hand on your waist and the other on your thigh

Ignore his words and try it next time

In fact, Micah wants you to surprsing him like that more often, but for his own peace of mind he acts like nothing in this world can surprise him

He is an attention seeker and a touch starved bastard after all, he needs to know that you still love him as he loves you

So more random kiss are welcome!

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cowboydisaster · 11 months

Note

Daddy Dutch HCs about an F!reader who is smart yet bratty, but also inexperienced in a lot of ways and tries to hide it by being a smartass? i.e: being a virgin, never having drank herself, etc., Arthur too if you want. NSFW or SFW, or both!

Headcanons: Dutch x inexperienced reader

a/n: hello everyone I'm officially back with my first piece of content since my little hiatus!! Hope you enjoy, love y'all <3 Sfw and nsfw headcanons are separated and labeled!

Dutch is shocked when he finds out how inexperienced you are. You talk with such bravado. He was damn near sure that you had as much experience as any of the other gang members. How wrong he was.

your first drink:

The first time Dutch takes you out for drinks, and you admit you've never touched a bottle before, he's floored. "You mean to tell me that- a sight as fine as yourself, and you've never had someone buy you a drink before?" He'll chuckle, sliding a bill fold across the bar. He'll buy you your first drink with some light teasing. You meet his teasing head on, using your quick tongue to defend yourself.

He makes sure you drink responsibly. He wants you to have fun, but he doesn't want you getting hurt, sick, or arrested. Dutch will drink less that night to keep a close eye on you and ensure your safety.

He'll help you ride home, pulling your back against his chest in the saddle to aid you in safely returning to camp.

Dutch will get you comfortable in his bed, making sure to have some tonics, cold, wet towels, and water on standby for your inevitable first hangover.

your first smoke:

Again, Dutch is shocked when he finds out that you've never smoked. Immediately, he pulls a pack of cigarettes from inside his coat pocket and lights a match on his boot.

"Just like this, my dear. Watch me." He'll whisper, bringing the cigarette close to his lips, "First you want to pull the smoke into your mouth and let it sit for a moment, then inhale it down to your lungs."

Dutch takes a pull from the cigarette before exhaling it through his nostrils. Them he's passing it over to you.

You follow his instructions but still wind up coughing the smoke back up.

The next day, Dutch will buy you a pack of premium cigarettes from the store, telling you that "Practice makes perfect."

⚠️ NSFW:

Dutch catches on to your inexperience by the time you tell him you're a virgin. He's not so surprised.

He'll kiss your neck, feel the jumping nervousness under your pulsepoint while his hands search your body.

"Why don't you let me show you, my darling?" He'll ask in between kisses. "I'll make you feel incredible."

When you give him your consent, Dutch won't talk you through everything, but he will focus intently on your face and composure, making sure that you feel good and are comfortable.

He'll dirty talk. A lot. This man gets off on praising and worshipping you. Expect: "You're so beautiful.", "You're doing so well.", "Just like that.", "Does that feel good?", "Perfect."

He's poetic in bed, you find. "Nothing, in all my years, has amounted to your beauty." He'll whisper against your ear.

Again, he worships you. Especially because you're new at this, but your pleasure always comes first. He can't get enough of it. The way your face draws up when you experience bliss for the first time with him-- he's obsessed. It's almost too much, how many times he'll bring you over the edge.

He's not a big cuddler when it comes to aftercare. He's more the type to clean you up and take care of you. He'll give you a bath, clean you up, and read to you while you soak in the hot water. He'll pour you a drink and ask you how you feel; if you're okay/comfortable/have any regrets. Which you don't of course. He's a gentleman the entire time, making you feel safe and loved.

bonus: This man is obsessed with forehead kisses. He kisses your forehead when he first slides in, and every time he praises you, he's pressing his lips to your forehead with his eyes squinted shut in pleasure.

#dutch van der linde #dutch van der linde x reader #dutch van der linde headcanons #rdr2 dutch #dutch van der linde x female reader #dutch x reader #dutch van der linde x you #rdr2 fandom #red dead redemption two #red dead redemption 2 #dutch van der linde imagine #rdr2 headcanons

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jewels-writes · 1 year

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how i think rdr2 characters would react to you getting injured in a fight

Featured characters: Arthur Morgan, Dutch Van der Linde, John Marston, Charles Smith, Sadie Adler, Lenny Summers, Sean Macguire, Kieran Duffy

WARNING: some people might consider this a little graphic, you've been warned.

(If you want your own custom story with any character from any fandom, please support me on fiverr https://www.fiverr.com/share/vP6NwZ)

Arthur Morgan

You and Arthur had been fighting off a group of bandits, but things took a turn for the worse when one of them landed a blow on you with his axe. You screamed out in agony as the pain coursed through your body, and Arthur quickly came to your side.

"Stay with me, Y/N," he urged, pressing a hand to your wound to try and staunch the bleeding. "You're gonna be alright, just keep your eyes open."

But despite his best efforts, you kept slipping in and out of consciousness. Every time you faded away, Arthur's heart raced with panic. He couldn't lose you, not like this. He needed to get you to a doctor, fast.

Desperately, he tried to keep you awake, talking to you, asking you questions, anything to keep your mind focused. He even resorted to slapping you lightly on the cheek to rouse you when you started to drift off.

As he worked to keep you conscious, he also tried to assess your injuries. He knew that you were bleeding heavily from the wound in your side, but he also noticed that you seemed to have a concussion from hitting your head on a rock during the battle.

"Y/N, can you hear me?" he asked, his voice thick with worry as he gently prodded at the lump on your head. "You hit your head pretty hard, but we need to keep moving. Can you sit up?"

With his help, you managed to prop yourself up against a nearby tree. Arthur carefully examined your wound, tearing off a piece of his shirt to use as a makeshift bandage. He knew it wasn't ideal, but it was better than nothing.

"Alright, Y/N. I need you to be strong for me," he said, his voice firm and determined. "We're gonna get you out of here, but you need to stay with me, okay?"

You nodded weakly, but your eyes kept drooping closed. Arthur knew he needed to act fast if he was going to save your life.

He hoisted you up in his arms, grunting with the effort. You were heavier than he anticipated, but he refused to let that slow him down. He carried you back to his horse, gently laying you across the saddle before mounting up behind you.

Arthur held you tightly as the horse galloped through the snow, his eyes never leaving your face. He could feel your body growing colder and weaker, and the fear in his heart threatened to overwhelm him.

"Stay with me, Y/N," he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. "You're gonna be alright, I promise."

It felt like hours before they finally arrived at the doctor's cabin. Arthur rushed in, calling out for help as he carried you inside. The doctor took one look at your injuries and immediately got to work, but Arthur couldn't bear to leave your side.

He sat beside you, holding your hand and watching as the doctor worked tirelessly to save your life. And when you finally opened your eyes, weak and dazed, Arthur felt like he could finally breathe again.

"You scared me, Y/N," he said softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "But you're gonna be alright now. I won't let anything happen to you."

Dutch Van der Linde

You and Dutch were in the middle of a heated battle against a rival gang. You had been fighting fiercely, taking down several of the enemy members. But in the chaos, you were hit by a stray bullet and fell to the ground, unconscious.

Dutch immediately rushed over to you, his heart pounding with fear. He had always been protective of you, and the thought of losing you was too much to bear. He checked for a pulse, and thankfully, you were still alive.

Desperate to keep you conscious, he called out your name and shook you gently, hoping to rouse you. But you remained still, and Dutch knew he had to act fast. He took off his jacket and wrapped it around you, trying to keep you warm in the midst of the battle and the chilly air.

He pressed his hand against your wound, trying to stem the bleeding as he looked around for a way out. He spotted a nearby alleyway and made a decision. He scooped you up in his arms, careful not to aggravate your injury, and ran towards the alleyway.

As he ran, he spoke to you softly, urging you to stay with him. "Come on, y/n," he whispered. "Don't give up on me now. You're going to be alright."

When he finally made it to the end of the alleyway, he spotted a horse and carriage parked nearby. He rushed over and spoke to the driver, explaining your situation and begging him to take you to the nearest doctor.

The driver hesitated at first, but the desperation in Dutch's voice and the sight of you, pale and still in his arms, convinced him to help. Dutch carefully laid you down in the carriage, trying his best to keep you warm and conscious.

As the carriage set off towards the doctor's, Dutch stayed by your side, his hand still pressed against your wound. He spoke to you constantly, telling you stories and memories in an attempt to keep you alert and awake.

When the carriage finally arrived at the doctor's, Dutch practically carried you inside, begging for the doctor to save you. He watched anxiously as the doctor tended to your wound, his heart racing with fear.

As the doctor worked, Dutch paced back and forth, his mind racing with thoughts of what could happen if you didn't make it. He thought of all the times he had spent with you, all the memories they had shared, and the thought of losing you was unbearable.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the doctor emerged from the back room with good news. You were going to be okay.

Dutch let out a sigh of relief, his body shaking with emotion. He rushed over to you, taking your hand in his and squeezing it gently. "Thank God you're okay," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

From that day on, Dutch made sure to keep a closer eye on you during battles, making sure that you were never put in harm's way again. He realized that losing you would be too great a loss, and he was willing to do anything to keep you safe.

John Marston

You and John were out on a mission with the rest of the gang, trying to take over a rival gang's hideout. But things went wrong and you got shot in the crossfire. John rushed over to your side and saw that you were badly injured. Your eyes kept fluttering shut, and each time you did, John's heart skipped a beat.

He knew he had to keep you awake until they could get you to a doctor, but he didn't know how. He tried talking to you, shaking you, and slapping your face lightly, but nothing seemed to work. He felt helpless and desperate.

"Come on, stay with me," he pleaded with you, his voice laced with worry. "You gotta stay awake, okay? We're gonna get you out of here and to a doctor."

He tried to keep you talking, asking about your favorite things and your childhood memories. He even tried to make you laugh by telling you some jokes, but all he got in return was a weak smile.

As he looked at you, he noticed how pale your skin was and how your breathing was becoming more labored. He had to act fast. He took off his jacket and wrapped it around you, trying to keep you warm. He also checked your pulse and monitored your breathing, trying to keep you stable until they could get to a doctor.

The journey to the doctor was a long and bumpy one, and each time the horse stumbled or hit a rough patch, John's heart would race with fear that you might not make it. He kept talking to you, telling you how much you meant to him and the gang, and how much they all needed you.

Finally, they arrived at the doctor's office, and John carried you inside. The doctor immediately tended to your wounds, and John watched anxiously from the corner of the room.

As the doctor worked on you, John could feel his heart in his throat. He had never been so scared in his life. He paced back and forth, wringing his hands and muttering under his breath.

When the doctor finally emerged from the room, John rushed over to him. "How is she? Is she gonna be okay?" he asked urgently.

The doctor gave him a small smile. "She's going to be just fine. She's a fighter," he said.

John let out a sigh of relief, his whole body sagging with the weight of the tension that had been building up inside him. He looked back at you, sleeping peacefully on the bed, and felt a wave of emotions wash over him.

He knew that he cared deeply for you and that he couldn't bear the thought of losing you. As he sat there, watching over you, he vowed to always protect you, no matter what it took.

Charles Smith

You and Charles had been fighting side by side in a fierce battle against a gang of outlaws. Despite your best efforts, one of the enemies had managed to sneak up behind you and deliver a devastating blow to the back of your head. You had collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

Charles was immediately by your side, his heart racing with fear. He knelt down beside you and checked for a pulse, relieved when he felt it beating steadily beneath his fingertips. But as he watched, he could see that your breathing was shallow and labored, a clear sign that you were in serious trouble.

Without a moment's hesitation, Charles lifted you gently into his arms, cradling you against his chest as he looked around frantically for a way to get you to safety. He spotted a nearby horse that had been abandoned by its owner in the chaos of the battle and knew that it was your only hope.

He carefully laid you across the horse's back, making sure that you were as comfortable as possible, despite your injuries. He mounted the horse himself, holding you steady with one arm as he kicked the animal into motion.

As they rode, Charles talked to you softly, willing you to stay with him, to keep fighting. He could feel the weight of your body pressing against him, a constant reminder of how close he was to losing you. He kept his eyes fixed on the horizon, searching desperately for any sign of help.

Finally, he saw the faint outline of a small settlement in the distance, and he spurred the horse forward with renewed energy. As they drew closer, he could see a doctor's office and he let out a sigh of relief. He dismounted the horse with you still in his arms, bursting into the office and calling for the doctor.

The doctor rushed to your side, examining you carefully as Charles paced back and forth, his heart pounding in his chest. The doctor's face was grave as he spoke to Charles, telling him that you had suffered a serious head injury and that your prognosis was uncertain.

Charles sank into a chair, his head in his hands as he struggled to keep his emotions in check. He knew that he couldn't lose you, that he needed you by his side more than anything else in the world.

He stayed by your side throughout the long, difficult night, his hand clasped tightly in yours as he talked to you softly, willing you to wake up. When morning finally came, the doctor emerged from his examination room with a small smile on his face.

"You're a lucky man," he told Charles. "She's going to make it."

Charles felt the weight of the world lift off his shoulders as he let out a deep breath. He looked down at you, still sleeping soundly, and felt a surge of love and protectiveness wash over him. He vowed then and there to never let anything harm you again, to always be by your side no matter what the future held.

Sadie Adler

You and Sadie Adler had always been close. Despite the harsh life of an outlaw, the two of you had formed a bond that was unbreakable. So when you were injured in a battle with a rival gang, she was by your side in an instant.

You were barely conscious, your head swimming with pain as you struggled to stay awake. But Sadie's voice was a constant presence, urging you to keep your eyes open, to keep fighting.

"Come on, y/n," she said, her voice tight with worry. "Stay with me. You're gonna be okay."

You could feel her hands on your shoulders, shaking you gently as she tried to rouse you from your stupor. You wanted to respond, to tell her that you were trying, but your lips wouldn't move, your voice wouldn't come.

Desperate, Sadie began to slap your cheeks lightly, hoping to shock you awake. You winced at the pain, but it was enough to keep you conscious for a few more moments.

"You're doing great," she said, her voice softening. "Just keep breathing, okay? You're gonna make it through this."

As the world around you began to fade into darkness, Sadie's voice was the only thing that kept you anchored to reality. But soon, even that wasn't enough. You felt your body slipping away, your consciousness fading into oblivion.

But then, just when you thought all was lost, you felt a pair of strong arms scoop you up, cradling you like a child. It was Sadie, carrying you to safety.

"I've got you," she whispered, her voice strained with effort. "You're gonna be okay. I promise."

Despite her small size, Sadie was strong. She carried you for what felt like hours, her breaths coming in short, ragged gasps as she struggled to keep going. But she never faltered, never gave up.

Finally, you saw the lights of a town in the distance. Sadie carried you to a doctor's office, where they took you in for treatment. As she watched you being taken away, Sadie's eyes filled with tears.

"You're gonna be okay," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Please, y/n, don't leave me. I can't lose you."

Days passed as you lay in bed, your body wracked with pain. But Sadie was there, by your side every moment, her hand clasped tightly around yours as she prayed for your recovery.

Finally, the day came when you were strong enough to leave. Sadie helped you to your feet, her eyes shining with relief and joy.

"I thought I'd lost you," she said, her voice choked with emotion. "I couldn't bear it. You're my family, y/n. You mean everything to me."

You hugged her tightly, tears streaming down your face. You knew that without her, you wouldn't have made it through. And you knew that no matter what happened, you and Sadie would always be there for each other, no matter what the future held.

Lenny Summers

Lenny Summers had never felt so helpless before. He watched in horror as you collapsed to the ground after taking a severe blow to the head during a fierce battle with rival gang members. You were bleeding heavily and had lost consciousness, causing Lenny's heart to race with fear and panic.

He quickly rushed to your side and checked for a pulse, relieved to find it still present but weak. Lenny knew that he had to act fast if he wanted to save your life. He began to shake you, calling out your name in hopes of waking you up.

"Come on, wake up! Stay with me," he pleaded, desperation creeping into his voice.

When you didn't stir, Lenny started slapping your face gently, trying to bring you back to consciousness. But it was no use. You remained unresponsive, and Lenny felt his world start to crumble around him.

Thinking quickly, Lenny lifted you gently and carried you towards the nearest town where he knew there was a doctor. As he walked, he spoke to you, begging you to stay awake.

"Come on, keep your eyes open. You're going to be okay. Just hold on a little longer," he murmured, his voice breaking with emotion.

He could feel your weight becoming heavier in his arms with each passing moment, and Lenny knew he had to act quickly. He started slapping your face harder, hoping to rouse you from your unconscious state.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Lenny arrived at the doctor's office. He barged in and placed you gently on the nearest bed, calling out for the doctor.

The doctor rushed to your side, assessing your injuries while Lenny watched with bated breath. Lenny's heart sank as the doctor confirmed that you had suffered a severe concussion and that the situation was grave.

He knew that he had to stay strong for you, so he held your hand and whispered words of encouragement into your ear, urging you to fight and stay alive.

Hours passed, and Lenny stayed by your side, never leaving your side. Finally, you stirred, and Lenny breathed a sigh of relief. He was overjoyed to see you wake up, and he knew that he would never let anything happen to you again.

"Thank God you're awake. I was so scared I was going to lose you," Lenny said, tears of relief streaming down his face.

You looked up at him, weakly smiling, and whispered, "Thank you for being there for me."

Lenny smiled back, relieved and grateful that you were alive. From that day forward, he made a vow to himself to always protect you and keep you safe, no matter the cost.

Sean Macguire

You and Sean had been fighting for what felt like hours, the adrenaline pumping through your veins as you fired round after round at the enemy. But then, in a sudden moment, everything went black.

When you finally came to, you were lying on the ground, pain coursing through your body. You tried to sit up, but your head was spinning and your vision was blurry. You could hear Sean's voice in the distance, but it sounded muffled, like he was speaking through a tunnel.

"Hey, hey, stay with me," Sean said, his voice filled with panic. "Come on, keep your eyes open."

You could feel his hands on your shoulders, shaking you gently. You tried to focus on his face, but it was all a blur. You felt cold and shaky, and your body was screaming in agony.

"Sean, what happened?" you managed to say, your voice hoarse.

"You got hit pretty bad," Sean replied, his voice trembling. "Just stay with me, okay? I'm gonna try to keep you awake."

Sean's eyes were wide with fear as he looked down at you. He knew that if you fell asleep, you might never wake up. He had to keep you conscious until they could get you to a doctor.

He grabbed his canteen of water and poured some onto a piece of cloth, then gently wiped your face with it. The cold water felt refreshing against your skin, but it wasn't enough to ease the pain.

"Sean, it hurts," you groaned, clenching your teeth.

"I know, I know," Sean replied, his voice cracking. "But you gotta stay strong, okay? We're gonna get you out of here."

Sean knew that he couldn't carry you on his own, not with the enemy still lurking around. He had to get help. He quickly pulled out his whistle and blew it, the sound echoing through the battlefield.

Within minutes, a group of their fellow gang members arrived, and Sean explained the situation to them. Together, they carefully lifted you onto a makeshift stretcher and began carrying you away from the danger.

As they walked, Sean kept talking to you, trying to keep you awake. He asked you questions about your life, anything to keep your mind occupied. You could hear the desperation in his voice, the fear that he might lose you.

Finally, you arrived at a small medical tent, and Sean rushed inside, calling for a doctor. The doctor came over, examining your wound and shaking his head gravely.

"This is bad," he said, his voice low. "We need to get them to a real hospital, now."

Sean's heart sank as he heard the doctor's words. He couldn't lose you, not like this. He had to get you to safety, no matter what.

With the help of the other gang members, Sean carried you to the nearest town, where they managed to find a doctor who could treat your injuries. As you lay on the operating table, Sean sat in the waiting room, his head in his hands.

He didn't know what he would do if he lost you. You had become more than just a comrade in arms, you had become a friend, someone he cared deeply for.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the doctor emerged from the operating room. Sean jumped up, rushing over to him.

"How are they?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

The doctor smiled. "They’re going to be okay. We managed to stabilize them, and they’re going to make a full recovery."

Sean let out a sigh of relief, tears streaming down his face. He couldn't believe it. You were going to be okay.

Kieran Duffy

As the battle raged on, you found yourself in the middle of the chaos, fighting for your life alongside Kieran. The adrenaline pumping through your veins gave you the strength to keep fighting, but eventually, you took a heavy blow to the head, and everything went black.

When you came to, you were lying on the ground, your head pounding with pain. Kieran was kneeling beside you, his face etched with concern.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice shaky.

You tried to answer, but the pain was too intense, and you passed out again.

Kieran's panic increased as he watched you lose consciousness again. He knew he had to act fast to keep you alive. He grabbed a canteen of water and splashed it on your face, hoping to wake you up.

"Come on, wake up," he said urgently. "We have to get you out of here."

He quickly checked your pulse and breathing, relieved to find that you were still alive, but he knew that time was running out. He needed to get you to a doctor as soon as possible.

With all his strength, Kieran lifted you onto his back and began carrying you through the battlefield, dodging enemy fire as he went. He tried to keep you awake by talking to you, telling you stories about his past, anything to keep your mind occupied.

Finally, he made it to a nearby doctor's tent, where he gently laid you down on a cot. The doctor rushed over to examine you, his face grave.

"It's touch and go," he said to Kieran. "We'll do everything we can, but she may not make it."

Kieran's heart sank at the thought of losing you. He knew he couldn't bear it. He sat by your side, holding your hand and whispering words of encouragement to you.

"You're strong," he said. "You can pull through this. You have to."

Hours passed, and Kieran remained by your side, never leaving even for a moment. He watched as the doctor tended to your wounds, his heart in his throat with fear.

Finally, you stirred, and Kieran's heart leaped with joy. He watched as you opened your eyes and looked up at him, confusion written on your face.

"You're safe," he said, relief flooding his voice. "You're going to be alright."

You smiled weakly, your eyes closing again as you drifted off to sleep.

Kieran stayed by your side, watching over you until you finally recovered. He was grateful that he had been there to save you, and he vowed never to let anything happen to you again.

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soup-14 · 1 year

Text

Dutch Van Der Linde x gn!Reader Blurb

Dutch x gn!Reader

Fluff

Dutch keeping you warm in Colter.

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The small abandoned mining tow is a light in the dark to you all. It certainly isn't perfect but at least there is a foot over your heads and fire in the hearth.

everyone's main goal is to keep warm. you're low on food, money and there are all sorts of other problems, but Dutch cant have anyone else dying from the cold.

You stand in his cabin trying to warm yourself by the fireplace. Your limbs tingle and itch from the cold. your cheeks and nose are rosy.

A gust of cold wind blows onto your back as the cabin door opens, causing you to shiver. Dutch steps inside and quickly shuts the door behind him.

Dawned in his large fur coat, cheeks and nose red, frost settled on his mutache.

Rubbing his hands together he joins you by the fire. "Staying warm My Dear?" He asks.

"Trying to."

You take his freezing fingers into your warm hands and blow hot air onto them. Dutch takes his hands away and reaches to remove his gun belt. He sets it on a chair and opens his coat. "Dutch I'm fine you don't have to-" he interrupts you with a chuckle.

"Come here." he smiles.

Your face lights up and you quickly walk into his inviting warmth. he immediately closes the coat behind you and wraps it tightly around the two of you. You wrap your arms around his waist and rest your head on his chest.

Dutch shuffles closer to the fire. he nuzzles his nose into your hood and sighs in content.

#dutch van der linde #dutch van der linde x reader #dutch x reader #rdr2 dutch x reader #dutch #dutch vanderlinde #rdr2 x reader #rdr x reader #rdr2 fanfic #red dead redemption x reader #red dead redemption #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 imagine #dutch van der linde imagine

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theres-a-body-here · 6 months

Text

Scumtober- Day 25 (Slow Dancing)

Dutch Van Der Linde x Reader drabble

Once Sean was rescued, a celebration ensued, You planned on sleeping in but Dutch insisted you at the very least sit by him as he makes sure no one ends up dying.

By now its midnight and most of the other's are drunk or passed out. The ones that are still lucid are chatting near the campfire. As you read a book, you suddenly hear the gramophone play something you recognize.

"Oh, I like this one" You comment as you get up from your seat and hold your hand out to Dutch. "Come on Boss" You say with a smile.

As soon as you offer your hand, he takes it without hesitation and stands up slowly. “Alright then,” he agrees. The tune reminds him of one his mother used to hum while cooking breakfast back home in Blackwater.

You pull him to the side so you can both dance yet still be able to see the others. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close enough for your bodies to brush together slightly.

He starts swaying side to side, moving fluidly with the music. It’s clear that dancing isn’t completely foreign to him; perhaps there were times during his youth when he had indulged in such activities.

He lets out a laugh that’s almost sheepish in nature “I suppose I have. Back when I was younger, there weren’t many opportunities for entertainment like this.” He glances around at the others who are either fast asleep or too busy partying to pay attention to the two of you.

You chuckle as you give his shoulders a playful squeeze. "Have you danced like this before, Boss?"

His hands move lower, settling just above your hipbones as he continues guiding you through the simple dance steps. Dutch holds you tightly, savoring each moment spent in your embrace

“But these days, things are different. We hardly ever stop long enough to enjoy moments like this.” There’s something in his tone you don't think you've ever heard from him.

You lean forward and rest your head on his chest. You close your eyes and relax as he sways you softly.

Dutch pulls you closer, relishing the feeling of having someone else share this peaceful moment beside him. He presses his lips against your hair, breathing in the familiar scent of lavender that always seemed to linger around you. He pulls away slightly to spin you around.

Surprised but delighted by the sudden movement, you raise your arms instinctively, allowing him to twirl you gracefully before bringing you back into his embrace.

His gaze lingers on yours for several heartbeats before he dips you dramatically, eliciting a chuckle from both of you.

Meanwhile, Mary-Beth and Karen watch from afar, catching your laughter.

”Look! Look, Karen!” Mary points excitedly towards the couple slow dancing under the moonlit sky. “They look so cute together, don’t they?”

Karen raises her eyebrows skeptically “Cute? Those two? Really, Mary?” She squints at the sight before nodding grudgingly. “Well, I guess they do seem kinda... nice with each other right now.”

Scumtober 2023 Masterlist

#flufftober 2023 #flufftober #scumtober #scumtober 2023 #dutch van der linde #dutch van der linde x reader #dutch x reader #rdr2 x reader #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption 2 x reader #gn!reader #gn reader #slow dancing #fluff

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cherryrogers · 1 year

Text

➳ hellfire

pairing: dutch van der linde x f!reader

warnings: smut, angst if you squint, dutch is kinda toxic lol who knew??

summary: That’s what Dutch Van der Linde does; he burns.

word count: 1.3k

a/n: me write a smut fic without the use of ‘good girl’ challenge (impossible)

His fingertips are tail-ends of lit cigarettes on your hips, scorching marks into your flesh.

That’s what Dutch Van der Linde does; he burns.

Spits flames like a wildfire when he’s angry. Incinerates his enemies with gunfire and blazing vengeance. Sets your body afire with red-hot lust that’s pain and pleasure flickering dangerously as one flame.

He’s hellfire. He burns and destroys, but he also ignites.

“My darling girl,” He utters, languidly dragging himself in and out of you. “You are just divine.”

His thighs are hot against the back of your own even through the material of his trousers, strong from the years of riding horseback and running between towns to avoid the law. You like when he sits you on them, takes you from below and lands his lips on your neck, his chest pressed to yours.

Tonight, he doesn’t take you so intimately. With passion. Romance. Tenderness.

Tonight, he needs to fuck. To be deep and snug inside your ever-heavenly heat. To be grounded. A reminder that there’s things much more worth his time than filthy O’Driscolls or pestering lawmen.

Things like his girl on her hands and knees, naked as the day you was born and laid out in front of him like a gift sent from God. A fallen angel with heaven between your thighs, only for him to find solace and utter euphoria in.

When Dutch fucks, it isn’t rough. It isn’t quick and over with before you know it. It’s slow. It’s agonising. His strokes are sedated yet impossibly deep. Desperate whimpers fall from your lips as you chase the pleasure, the pleasure Dutch grants you at his own pace. He’ll watch you squirm under him as if you’re utterly starved of his cock, and he’ll bask in the amount of control he has over you. He’ll fuck you slow until the sheets are wet with your tears, until he knows that your high driven by his touch is the only thing that can relieve your pain, and he’ll let you let go.

Matchstick after matchstick he’ll light and let fizzle out, until he finally decides to set your fire ablaze.

“Fuck, Dutch.” You cry as the man pulls out, leisurely rubbing the head of his cock against your folds. Your clit thrums at the pressure.

He marvels at the slick glistening on your skin, coating your lips and trickling down your inner thighs, evidence of his magnificence. He can make men shake in fear and you tremble in utmost pleasure, in desperation.

His hands plant on your waist and roll you over. Heat flushes across your face, realising the tears escaping your eyes are free for him to see, tears that’ve taken the black liquid on your lashes with them. You raise your hands to wipe them away, but Dutch is quick to stop you, wrapping a large hand around both of your wrists with ease. He pushes them above your head, lowers his mouth to the wet skin of your cheeks, and collects the salty shows of ecstasy with his lips.

Between your legs, he takes his cock with his other hand and slides back into you. It’s heaven and hell and everywhere inbetween, the drag of his thick length, the depth of his strokes and the sheer lack of haste he’s making to draw you to your climax.

Does he enjoy torturing you so?, you wonder. Can torture be pleasurable? Can it leave you impossibly exhausted yet yearning for more?

“So damn pretty when you cry for me, aren’t you?” Dutch rasps, catching your lips in a bruising kiss. It’s not a question. He likes when you’re crying for his cock, for your sweet release that feels so close yet painfully far.

“Please, Dutch,” You sigh into his mouth, head hazy with every push of his tip against your sweet spot, the pace of his ruts all too slow. “I need— oh.”

His thumb draws circles on your clit, and his dark brows furrow. “Need?” He murmurs in your ear, his breath hot. ”I will tell you exactly what you need.”

Fully sheathing himself inside of you, he tightens his grip on your wrists, pausing his thrusts and lifting a knuckle to trail down your cheek.

“You need… to have faith,” He says. Of course. “Have faith…” He slams inside you hard suddenly, prompting a broken whimper from your throat. “That I know what’s best for you.”

His lips trail across your neck, then he nips at your collarbone. There’ll be bruises littering the skin there in the morning. “And you know what’s best for you, sweet girl?”

Pleasure builds at your core at the heat of his mouth, his thumb on your swollen clit, his cock filling you to the brim.

Then, his voice in your ear. Clear as day amid the haze of your thoughts.

“Me.”

You cry out as you finally unravel, clenching tightly around him as you come. He hums at your body’s reaction, slowly riding you through it with gentle swipes over your over sensitive bud.

Tears fall down your face, and you don’t bother to try and hide them now. Everything about Dutch Van der Linde is overwhelming. His size, his power, his ability to make you come and cry and feel pain and pleasure all at once. He’s molten lava, melting you into nothing.

He pulls out soon afterwards, pumping his length a few times with knitted brows before his hot seed decorates your stomach. A sigh of satisfaction elicits from his lips, watching as he paints your skin, marking you as his own.

His other hand removes itself from your arms still stuck above your head, and a part of you misses the feeling as you roll out your wrists.

Dutch slowly wipes a hand up your stomach, collecting his ejaculation with two thick fingers before bringing them to your mouth. You let him slide them through your plush lips, the familiar salty taste lansing on your tastebuds. He watches silently as you lick them dry, entranced by your willing submission.

“Good girl,” He utters lowly, running a thumb over your bottom lip, then underneath your eyes, getting rid of the wetness there. “Such a delicate thing.”

There’s a certain look in his eyes, one you can’t quite decipher. “One day,” He says. “I fear I might just break you.”

Suddenly, the weight of him against your hips lifts, and Dutch is sitting on the edge of the cot, buttoning his trousers back up. He won’t be coming to bed, then. You resist the frown that almost pulls at your lips, grabbing your chemise from the bottom of the cot and pulling it back over your form, shielding your skin from the cold night air.

He picks up a book from the nightstand as well as a cigar before standing to his full height, carrying out his usual routine of reading and smoking while the rest of the camp recharges. It’s as if he’s beyond sleep, beyond regular human needs.

Just as he’s about to leave the tent, you call out to him.

“You won’t break me, Dutch. I promise.”

It’s quiet for a moment, save for the sound of birds flitting through tree branches and faint whistles of the wind. Then, Dutch turns his head slightly to the side, just so you can see the ghost of a smile on his lips. “Sleep well, dear girl.”

The shadow of his large figure appears beyond the tent, and disappears just as quickly.

You sigh, laying down on your side, away from the flickering candlelight. If only Dutch fell asleep as easily as you do after bringing one another to your highs. If only he chose the company of his beloved after the intimate deed as opposed to Evelyn Miller and tobacco smoke invading his lungs.

You love him. Your worship the ground he walks on. And the feeling is mutual, he’s assured you on many instances.

But the unnerving thought occurs to you as you begin to fall into a sound slumber, the faint scent of Dutch’s cigar diffusing through the thin tent walls.

Choosing to love Dutch Van der Linde, you might be flying dangerously close to the ever-burning sun.

#dutch van der linde #dutch van der linde x reader #dutch van der linde x you #dutch van der linde smut #rdr2 fanfic #dutch x reader #dutch van der linde fanfic #dutch van der linde imagine #dutch van der linde reader insert #rdr2 smut

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red-dead-do-over246 · 1 year

Note

I'm in love with your witings , You are really talented ♡♡ ! , and I was wondering if you could write something like How will the gang members [arthur,dutch,micah,and anyone you like] react to f!reader who wears glasses because she had a very bad eyesight? (she's very insecure about it) and its fine if you dont want to

Thank you anon!💖💖 I think I will also add Sean to this list XD

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The Gang Members (Arthur, Dutch, Micah, and Sean) React to Fem!Reader Who Wears Glasses Because of Poor Eyesight

Arthur Morgan

-We all know it's hard for Arthur to express himself a lot of the time, especially when it's around a lady as pretty as yourself. When he first notices your glasses, he pretends he doesn't notice as to not make you feel weird or anything.

-But he's a piss poor actor (Hosea's working on it), so you just make a comment yourself to reel him back in.

-You explain how poor your eyesight is without them, and that you need them to see practically anything. You were insecure about it, so Arthur's hesitation was well intended. But you could also sense that Arthur was going to be awkward until you told him.

-Sometimes he overreacts and thinks you are deathly blind, which leaves you embarrassed and having to remind him that you are just fine with your glasses.

-He's a respectful man to those he likes, so you knew you had nothing to worry about when it came to him teasing you or something. Arthur still noticed your discomfort and apologized if it was his fault.

-This led you guys to having long thoughtful discussions about insecurities and what not. The two of you trusted each other, so there was no worries. Just closure.

-And if anyone dared make a comment on your glasses, Arthur would send one of his sharp insults their way to shut them up.

Dutch van der Linde

-Dutch is a master with words and charm, and he takes interest to nearly every female body in camp, you included. To be honest, Dutch didn't even notice your glasses at first. All he paid attention to was the books you were reading.

-It takes a comment from Hosea to you about your glasses (cause you trusted the olde man), to make Dutch realize that you don't only wear them when you read.

-Dutch being Dutch confronted you smoothly on the matter. He was a curious man after all and none of his other gang members seemed to wear glasses. You were shy about answering. Not only were you insecure about the whole thing, but this was also Dutch here.

-You eventually were conned into telling him, Dutch using all his pretty words into making you cave. You were ashamed that he wouldn't want you here because you couldn't basically do anything without your glasses.

-But Dutch seemed to find you more endearing, like a fragile flower.

-He doesn't bring your glasses up again, acting like they aren't even there for the sake of your self-esteem. However, you can catch him staring at some points, like you were a deer who would bolt if he dare made a move.

-But not words were ever brought up by anyone ever. He made sure of that, and he made sure to give you some books now and again to keep a smile on your face.

Micah Bell

-We all know that Micah would be an absolute asshole at first. He may be a bit "softer" on the women, but he picks out anything he sees as a weakness and attacks. Some others know about your glasses, but when they notice that he notices, they get worried.

-He practically snatches them from your face, causing you to shriek as he examines them with a squint in his eyes.

-Your sudden fear is what shocks him the most, not understanding why losing (what he considers) such a stupid trinket would cause you to panic. When you tell him that you can't see, he gives them back to you as you scramble to put them on. Of course, he makes a sly comment.

-Did he give them back to you out of pity? Fear of getting Dutch on his ass? Something else? Micah himself didn't really know. All he did know is that your eyesight was very poor, which is why you never went out on any missions.

-It takes a couple days, but he eventually works up the stomach to apologize to you. It's forced and not very convincing, but it was enough to get you to admit why you freaked out, confirming what he thought.

-It was a weird conversation to have with him because Micah never seemed like a caring type. But then, after a moment, he asked if they really worked, so you offered to have him try them on. This was the one time that you seemed to smile with him, especially when he said he was more blind with them on.

-He may tease you from time to time, raising your insecurities somewhat. But eventually, the nickname "four eyes" became something of a term of endearment. In the end, he actually offers to teach you how to shoot.

Sean Macguire

-Sean is the most endearing little bean that makes everyone smile. He is probably the only one who makes you forget about your insecurities because he is so good at making you laugh and feeling like you are special.

-But he's also someone who won't leave you alone when he becomes interested in something. So when he sees your glasses, he's glued to you.

-Sean's instincts tell him to compliment you because your a woman, but his childish curiosity tells him to ask about your glasses. So, he does both at the same time. Telling you how pretty you look with your glasses.

-Of course, this leaves you as a flustered mess, so you eventually tell him that they aren't there for show but rather you need them to see because you are practically blind without them. Sean doesn't really understand and takes the glasses from your face to look at them.

-Sensing your worry, he puts them on his own face and jokingly asks if their magic and will help him read better. His goal to make you giggle is a success, so he hands your lifeline back to you.

-Sean sees himself as the only one who gets permission to bring up your glasses, so anyone else who does (even if it's an innocent comment) get to face him and his Irish accent stating how no one else but him gets to talk to you like that.

-He's the one who makes you feel better about your glasses, and you love how much he loves to make you smile. Your insecurity is almost nonexistent around him. God bless Sean for being in your life.

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red-dead-bisexual · 2 months

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You pass away during childbirth - VDL gang

Requested~

WARNING: DEATH MENTION

Dutch: Um okay...

Inspiration

(and thanks to @notsofriendlyfriendlyreminder for helping me decide between Dutch and John)

#I was gonna make it John but I feel like John would genuinely be sad if his partner (Abigail) died in childbirth #despite being a deadbeat #also Dutch's reaction is pretty much no reaction when Molly died so #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #dutch van der linde #dutch van der linde x reader #dutch x reader #dutch van der linde/reader #red dead redemption x reader

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dear-departed · 7 months

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The Innocence of an Outlaw [Dutch]

A/N: I'm back! After what, a year or something? I don't really know what happened, or why happened, but it happened. Um, I finally played RDR2, after procrastinating, of course. But now I'm obsessed with these stupid little dumb gay cowboys. Without further adieu, here's a short Dutch Van Der Linde thing.

Desc.: Downtime with Dutch starts pretty uneventful until he remembers that his darling isn't a smoker. In his eyes, hilarity ensues; in yours, pain and coughing.

Word count: 1.15K

Genre: Fluff

Pairing: Dutch Van Der Linde x GN! Reader

Dutch- innocent outlaw

Life in the gang was never easy. The downtime was rare, but that’s to be expected. Somebody always needed him or needed a hand with something; which you usually were chosen to help with. After all, Dutch Van Der Linde’s partner is never exempt from carrying their own weight, at least that’s how you saw it.

Despite how popular it is, you were never a smoker, nor a drinker. It was something you simply never took nearly as much pleasure in as others. Both activities burned, and one made you less aware. Dutch, on the other hand, can almost never be spotted without a cigar in hand, or a bottle of surprisingly pricey bourbon or whiskey near him. He almost never got drunk, but that’s not to say he didn’t enjoy a drink every so often.

On this rare occasion where you have him all to yourself, you and Dutch sit in his tent at Horseshoe Overlook. It’s a pretty place, and if you were being honest, maybe even a little nicer than the west. After the whole mess in Blackwater, it was refreshing to move east. A relief, even.

He sits next to you, one hand sitting idly on your thigh, his thumb caressing the fabric of your clothing. As per usual, rings adorn his fingers, thick gold rings. Something about the way they looked on his callused fingers drove you wild.

“You know…” Dutch starts, taking a long drag of his cigar, “I’m so glad you’ve stuck with me through all of this. Through Blackwater. They say someone shows their character in a time of panic or need, and you’ve proven yourself to be real’ trustworthy. I appreciate your faith in me.” He speaks. Curse his silver tongue, the way he makes you swoon with every word that comes out of his smoky breath. Every time you consider leaving the outlaw life, he drags you back in with his words, his charming looks and his rich voice keeps you anchored to him. The way he spoils you rotten when he gets the chance and ignores you right after.

Thank you, Dutch... you’re too good to me.” You mutter, leaning into his warm body, one arm snaking around his waist. “Do you want a puff?” he asks, holding his cigar out to you.

You furrow your brows, slowly shaking your head. “No thanks, you know I’ve never been much of a smoker.” You say, slowly closing your eyes.

” Oh?” he asks, quirking a brow, as if your words surprised him. “Go on, it’s an honor. The amount of times Sean or Arthur have asked for a drag off me... they’d be jealous, you know.” He says softly, grabbing you by the hips and pulling you into his lap. His cigar hangs from his mouth, tendrils of smoke curling into the air and wafting up into your nose. Almost everything that resides in Dutch’s tent has cigar smoke in it, permeating any material. Leather, cloth, metal, it doesn’t matter.

“Alright, alright, I give.” You say, reaching for the cigar, but he takes it from his mouth and moves it away.

“Hold on now, allow me...” He says, one side of his face quirking up into some sort of grin. “Open up.” He says, and you obediently oblige.

He adores the way you listen, the fire in your criminal heart burns everyone but him. To Dutch, you’re but a wood stove, contained and comforting. He puts the cigar to your lips, resting one hand right beneath the back of your neck. You inhale the smoke- rookie mistake. Immediately it burns your lungs and throat, and you start hacking and coughing, curling over yourself.

Dutch quickly pulls the cigar away, a chuckle coming from his lips, “you’ve only ever smoked cigarettes? You don’t inhale cigar smoke, it’s different.”

Of course, he would know that

He passes you a cup of water from the crate beside his cot that acts as a nightstand. You eagerly gulp it down to soothe the burn. Dutch rubs your back while you hack and cough, tipping some of the ash from the cigar onto the floor.

“I hate to make light of your pain, but I think it’s adorable how inexperienced you are... such a ruthless outlaw, but a cigar can topple you...” He teases, lacing his fingers through your hair. He tugs softly, not enough to hurt, just enough to make you jerk your head up to look at him with teary eyes.

“You’re fine. Just watch me.” He says, putting the cigar to his lips. He lets the smoke sit in his mouth for a moment, before slowly blowing it out, a plume of smoke coming from his mouth. “See?”

You nod, finishing the last from the water cup. “Yeah. Can I try again?” You ask, reaching for the cigar.

“Of course.” He once again pulls the cigar away from you, taking another slow drag from it. He puts one hand behind your head and pulls your face close to his, pressing his lips to yours. Of course, you kiss back, even as he slowly blows the smoke into your mouth as you absentmindedly get a little more comfortable in his lap.

Dutch slowly pulls away, placing his index finger on your lips. “Just taste the smoke for a moment, no need to rush.” he croons softly into your ear. He revels in the way you choke down coughs; just for him. “You’re alright, doin’ just fine there... alright, now blow.”

Slowly, you let the smoke flow from your mouth, right in his face, out of spite. He fans away the smoke with a hardy laugh, “you did it! With my help, of course.” He comments, giving you a smug grin. He’s enamored by the way you cough again, some of the smoke you’d just blown out reentering your mouth. His thumb rubs against your chin and on the side of your lip lovingly. You can’t quite pinpoint if it’s because you have something on your face or if it’s because he’s simply feeling affectionate. Either way, the attention feels nice. His warm callused hands upon your dirt-smudged face. “You’ll get used to it... trust me, I much prefer a pipe to cigars, but I left my old pipe in... Blackwater.” He mutters the dreaded city name underneath his breath, avoiding your gaze as he huffs softly.

“Why don’t you buy another one? I’m sure Saint Denis has some ‘real nice pipes. I’ve seen the ones- men in those big top-hats, they have these pretty mahogany pipes.” You suggest.

He simply shrugs, “I have, none of them feel quite right. The last one fit my lips perfectly.” He recalls. You swear you could see drool coming out of his mouth. This man was a tobacco fiend, that much you knew. His hands absentmindedly caress your thighs, his fingers kneading, like an affectionate cat.

"You owe me a back massage."

"For oh-so-generously offering you a drag from my cigar?"

"From not telling me you're not supposed to breathe."

"Fine."

#dutch van der linde #dutch rdr2 #dutch x reader #outlaw reader #Red dead redemption #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #rdr2 x reader #red dead redemptoin x reader #dutch van der linde fluff #he's persuasive #how surprising

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dutchvanwinkle · 10 months

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Mr Van der Linde Pt. 10 - Dutch x Reader

This is it, angels! The last chapter of the Mr Van der Linde mini-fic. This has been an absolute joy to write, thank you for allowing me to indulge in my fantasy and for being the most wonderful group of enablers a writer could ever ask for. The response to this story has been much more than I expected, and I’ve had the best time sharing it with you. Thank you endlessly for your support and hype <3

It's on ao3, if you'd rather read there!

Summary: You deal with the consequences of your actions.

Word count: 9,037

Content warnings: smoking, drug use

‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗

You’d blocked Dutch’s number. It was the only thing left to do.

It was the first action you took upon getting on that train. You knew that if you heard his voice or read a single word from him, you’d cave.

The level of agony you felt was like nothing you’d ever experienced. Your heart was broken, so much so that you were surprised the thing was still able to beat. All of a sudden, two of the most important people in your life were strangers. The man you loved, and your best friend.

God, you missed them.

You missed John’s laugh down the phone, or the way his eyes grew heavy after he’d had one too many drinks. You missed the way he’d snuggle into you while hungover or come and see you just so you could sit in a comfortable silence together. He was about to become a father, and there you went piling more stress onto his already heavy load.

It didn’t bear thinking about how much you missed Dutch. It was too painful to even list the things you loved the most about him, that you knew you’d never get to experience again.

It was a miracle that your other friends were still speaking to you. The boys had been quiet, siding more so with John but not quite willing to cut you out completely. The girls still got in touch with you regularly, and you weren’t sure what you’d do with yourself if they didn’t.

Abigail updated you on her pregnancy over the next few weeks, and it was like a knife to the chest at the realisation that you wouldn’t even be able to meet her baby, at least not for a long time.

She and Karen had been distraught when you announced the news that you weren’t going to attend graduation, but you’d thought it through for long enough. Everyone would be there, family members included. You daren’t even think about how awkward the whole affair would be. Not going was the most sensible thing you could do, and being sensible was at the top of your current list of priorities.

You’d received a call a week after the party from the job you interviewed for and were offered a place. Without the ability to share the news with those you wanted to hear it most, it’d only made you more depressed.

It’d taken you a few days to type out the message to John. You started off by saying you were only going to try getting in touch with him this once since you couldn’t bring yourself to ask for his forgiveness; you knew it wasn’t something you deserved. Then, you’d explained how it happened. Sparing him the details, of course, you ran through the timeline of your and Dutch's relationship and gave him the full truth. It felt false and cliché when you started talking about how you hadn’t meant for it to happen, but it was true. To a point. You’d finished off by saying that you would always be there for him, should he ever decide he wanted to interact with you again. Then you clarified that you’d never expect him to and offered him one final apology.

He’d read it not long after, and you were already prepared for him not to reply, so it wasn’t too much of a bluster when it went unanswered. There was a small, naïve part of you that clung to the possibility that he could, though.

Graduation was one week away. You wanted it over with, even though you weren’t going, and had planned to take a social media break while everyone posted their smiling photos with relatives and friends.

Curled up in bed, hiding from the world under your duvet was your most recent pastime as of late, you huffed and shut the book you weren’t able to read. Ever since that day at the Van der Linde’s, you had an awful tension headache that wouldn’t shift no matter what you did. So instead, you shut your eyes, hoping you’d fall into a nap to pass the time.

After a few minutes, your phone began vibrating and with a tired grunt, you leaned over, becoming instantly more alert at the name that was on your screen.

John.

You held the phone in your hands like it would explode if you moved it too harshly, staring at the screen until the call rang out and the vibrating stopped.

It had to have been an accident. You didn’t want to deal with the awkward scenario of picking up, to be faced with a spluttering John explaining it was a mistake. Then your phone buzzed again, this time with a message.

Call me when you’re free.

It was the longest you’d gone without breathing, your body forgetting its most basic survival instinct and going into complete shock. He was finally ready to yell at you, to call you all the names under the sun and explain how badly he wished he’d never met you. You wanted to throw the whole phone away, but he deserved the chance to have a go at you if it’s what he wanted, and you took a deep breath before pressing the call button by his name.

Time had never moved as slowly as it had during the three rings that elapsed before they stopped, and then John spoke through the phone.

“Hey.”

Hearing his voice was enough to make you tear up, but you cleared your throat and willing yourself to remain steady. “Hi.”

John sighed, and you could only imagine how nauseating it was for him to have to interact with you. “Abigail said you’re not coming to graduation.”

“No, I’m not.”

He sighed again, finding his words. “That don’t seem fair.”

Your eyebrows pulled together, unable to make sense of where this conversation was going. “I don’t reckon I deserve fair,” you said, immediately hearing how self-pitying you sounded. “It’s fine, I don’t want to go anyway.”

“We both know that’s not true.”

“It doesn’t matter.” After a beat of silence, your emotions got the better of you. “John, I’m so sorry -”

“Don’t.” He was stern but softened his voice for his next sentence. “I know we need to talk, but not like this.”

Unsure what to say, you decided to allow John some room to speak further.

“Come to graduation. We’re all staying at the house the night before,” you knew that already, just because you didn’t respond in the group chat didn’t mean you weren’t reading the messages, “before we have to pack up and leave.”

The mere thought of being there with everyone, seeing them all with their families and then seeing Dutch too was enough to send your brain into overdrive. “I can’t.”

“It won’t be the same without you.”

You pressed your lips together, hoping to keep your composure just a little while longer. “John, I’m confused. Aren’t you mad at me? Don’t you hate me?”

“Yes. Mad at you, I mean. I don’t hate you though. Trust me, I tried to,” he sounded reluctant to admit to it. “I’ve had time to think. And I know I’ll regret it if I know I didn’t at least try to get you to come.”

“You know, I think I’d prefer it if you yelled at me.”

John laughed mirthlessly. “Part of me wants to, but... it won’t do no good.”

The silence hung between you, and despite all the things you wanted to say to him, you couldn’t find a single word.

“Look,” he began. “You still mean a lot to me. You worked hard on this degree and truthfully... I wouldn’t have got mine if it weren’t for you. I want you there with me.”

You choked, because you didn’t deserve him being so kind and he repeated your name for you to just nod, even though he obviously couldn’t see you. “Sorry,” you whispered, and while it was an apology for your lack of response, you used it as a chance to let out some of the apology hoard you had stored up.

“Just come, alright? You can leave early if you want. Besides, the others want to see you too.”

After a shaky breath, you decided it was worth a shot. Even if you went to the house the night before and didn’t attend the ceremony, it was worth a try. You said you’d try to rectify it if you could, and this could be the chance to take the first few steps towards that goal. “Alright. I’ll come.”

Some of the tension dissipated through the phone, and you waited for John’s response. “Okay. See you next week.”

Then he hung up.

After the call ended, your phone navigated to the most recently used app, and you were met with your recent search history, mainly along the lines of can a person run out of tears and is anyone close to inventing time travel yet.

Had that just happened? You checked the call logs to confirm that yes, it had. John had called you. He hadn’t yelled at you. He hadn’t so much as berated you. He said you meant a lot to him. He said he wanted to talk to you and see you at graduation.

Holy shit. Your apprehension about not going was immeasurable compared with your apprehension about actually going.

The entire train journey back to university had been spent with you fidgeting, your mind going a million miles an hour at the prospect of what you were about to face. Karen and Abigail were overjoyed you’d agreed to come, and you had a sneaky suspicion Abigail had played a part in convincing John to get in touch with you, even if she wouldn’t admit it.

Instead of taking a bus to your rented house like you usually would, you decided to take the walk to stretch your legs, get some fresh air, and prepare yourself for whatever greeted you when you got there.

But when you did, it still wasn’t enough time. Panic seeped into your veins and your breaths grew short, so you took a seat on the half-wall that acted as a border around your poor excuse for a front garden. No matter what, you couldn’t still your hands, and reluctantly pulled a cigarette out of the pack that resided in your pocket. You lit it, and once you were halfway done, you heard the front door open behind you.

You daren’t look around, not wanting to face whoever had caught you wallowing in your guilt.

But the door clicked shut, and footsteps down the front path preluded John taking a seat beside you.

“I thought you only smoked casually.”

“It helps,” you flicked the ash away, not meeting John’s face. “A little.”

“I see.”

You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, keeping your gaze fixed on the floor with not a single clue on how to have this conversation.

“How long you plan on sitting out here?” John asked.

“Not sure,” you mumbled.

“You know you can’t stay here forever.”

After a short nod, you plucked up the courage to shift your gaze from the floor and to John. Your dismal state must’ve shown on your face, as he looked at you pitifully. “It's so fucked up,” you began, the tension needling under your skin. “I know it is, I’m so sorry. Sorrier than I know how to express.”

“I believe you.”

Why must he be so calm? Where was the John you knew, the one who’d pick a fight at the first opportunity – the one who’d slammed the door open when he’d caught you in the act? “Just yell at me or something, please. I can’t take it.”

“Don’t rightly think I can, you looking all forlorn as you are,” he hummed, drumming his fingertips on the wall.

Your face was already a permanent frown, but you felt it deepen. All you wanted to do was cry, even if that was the only thing you’d done over the past few weeks. It seemed a person couldn’t run out of tears, after all.

John edged closer, and you immediately shook your head. “No, don’t comfort me, I don’t deserve it.”

“You always do beat yourself up over stuff,” he scoffed gently.

“No, John. I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry.”

“You don’t gotta keep saying that.”

“I don’t know what else I can say.”

He let out a short breath, stretching his neck out. “I do have one question for you.”

Your nod in response was almost eager, willing to answer anything he asked.

“Would you take it back if you could?

“I –” you stopped to take a breath. “Yeah, of course.”

“Funny.”

“Why funny?”

“Dad said he wouldn’t. And he said that’s what he was the sorriest about, that he’d do it all again given the chance.”

You weren’t sure what to say, your heart clutching to hear such a thing but not wanting to show it on your face. You’d wondered how he’d taken the whole thing, the urge to ask Abigail had been strong but you knew you wouldn’t have been able to bear the answer either way. It didn't bear thinking about how much you missed him.

“I have another question.”

“Shoot.”

“More of a clarification.”

“Okay.”

“You really are in love with each other, aren’t you?”

You swallowed, shaking your head to look at your lap but you weren’t saying no, and John knew that. “It’s... I...” you sighed, having no more lies left in you. You met John’s concerned gaze.

“It's okay,” he reassured stiffly.

“No, it’s not okay. Nothing about it is okay. You mean the world to me,” you pressed your lips together to stop them from quivering as tears gathered in your eyes once more. “None of it matters now,” you added dejectedly.

John shifted beside you, finally taking his gaze away and instead planting it somewhere ahead of him. “I think it does.”

“What do you mean?” you asked quietly.

“He’s been... Well, he’s not been good. He’s sorry, to me, but mainly he’s... Heartbroken, I guess. He’s been so happy recently, we’ve all noticed it, and now he’s just... Not.”

It pained you to hear how hurt he was. Knowing you were the cause of his pain, denying him even a single word turned your stomach even more. “Oh, I’m... Sorry.”

John sighed. “I want him to be happy. And I want you to be happy. That’s what means the most to me.”

“I’m sure we’ll both be fine, eventually. Like I said, it’s not important how either of us feel. We did an awful fucking thing, and I guess we both deserve to feel like shit.”

“That’s just it,” John paused as you stubbed out your cig with your foot, “maybe being happy is what you deserve.”

You glanced at him, trepidation and anxiety set into his features. He looked so much older, somehow.

“I’m not saying I’ve forgiven you. Certainly ain’t forgiven him. I’m not saying I’m your biggest fan right now, either. But I just need a bit of time to get used to it. It ain’t worth losing you,” he said pointedly. “You know what my momma said to me, before she passed?” John seldom spoke of his mother, and your ears perked up at the privilege of being his audience. “She said one day, he was gonna love someone again. Said she knew it was hard to hear, hard to imagine him moving on, but that he wouldn’t be complete if he didn’t have someone to love. He loves love. Just the way he is. She also said it’d take him a good long while, and it did – I ain’t never seen him in a relationship since her. In her eyes, that meant that when he finally did move on, it would be with someone I could trust. She told me when the time came, to trust him. And to trust that the person he chose would be someone who cared for me, someone I could rely on.”

Your eyes were brimming by that point, but you didn’t want to do him the disservice of looking away while he was being so raw.

“She was right,” John shrugged.

“You really look at what I’ve done,” you said hoarsely, fighting away a sob, “as the action of someone who cares for you? John, if I cared about you I would never have even let the thought cross my mind.”

“Alright,” he nodded, a challenge, “what about everything else you’ve done in the last few years?”

You blinked at him.

“What about when you set me up with Abigail? What about when you convinced me to carry on at uni, even though I wanted to drop out? What about all the times you’ve looked after me when I was too drunk to see? What about all those deep chats we had late at night? What about when Abigail said she was keeping the baby, and you stayed up with me half the night until I finally slept?”

You didn’t have a response for him.

“I can’t forget all of that,” he said evenly, “even if right now I am mad at you. I know you, I know that you didn’t intend to hurt me with any of this.”

“When did you get so grown up?” your face scrunched, John’s words a soothing balm over your open wounds.

“Can’t expect my kid to turn out alright if I’m still acting like one.”

“Makes sense.”

“I’m not saying it won’t be weird, but... I can learn to deal with it.”

You looked at him with mild incredulity, hardly believing the words coming out of his mouth. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am.”

Again, your eyes filled up and you couldn’t stop the tears, holding your fingertips under your eyes to catch them.

John shuffled closer once again and hesitated, but then put his arm around your shoulders, and you didn’t have it in you to resist nestling into his embrace. “Goddamnit woman,” he scoffed, his voice lighter and more familiar, “will you quit crying already?”

“Can’t help it,” you sniffed.

John rested his head on top of yours and you squeezed your eyes shut, wondering what you did to deserve such a wonderful friend.

After a time, when your tears had dried and your breathing regulated, the two of you ventured inside and were greeted with the sight of your four other friends lazing around in the living room.

You looked at them sheepishly, but they smiled in response, seemingly relieved to see you and John on the way to being on good terms.

At first, it was uncomfortable. The situation was somewhat of an elephant in the room, but it didn’t seem like anyone was up for bringing up the topic. These were your final days altogether, the last remaining part of your lives that made you students. After this, while you’d remain friends, you’d never be living together all under the same roof again. You didn’t need another excuse to cry, so you didn’t spend any more time chasing that train of thought.

Eventually, the conversation flowed easier, and it was almost like you were existing in a time months ago, where you hadn’t made any terrible choices and your friends hadn’t found out about them.

“Still can’t believe we’re meeting your infamous da,” Abigail mocked Sean, who grinned back at her.

“Oh, he’s excited to meet the lot of you, too. I assured him you weren’t all a pompous bunch.”

“My dad’s coming too. Hey,” Javier pointed at you, “make sure you don’t fuck him.”

You glared at Javier, but at the snorts of laughter around the room you couldn’t help but break into a reluctantly amused smirk. “I have no intention of doing such a thing.”

“Did you have the intention to fuck Mr Van der Linde?”

“Can we not.”

Thankfully, even John was laughing, and while you thought the subject was still too tender to poke fun at, you agreed that this may be the easy way of getting it out in the open.

“Hey,” John said, “part of the deal with you fucking my dad is that we’re allowed to tease you for it.”

You shrunk into your seat. “I was not aware of that condition.”

“No? Would you like my permission to be revoked?”

You huffed, thoroughly left without a leg to stand on. “No. Fine.”

Denying John the right to hold this over you, likely for the rest of your life, wasn’t something you could do. If he had to pick on you and tease you, then you’d allow it, so long as it meant the two of you could remain friends.

The six of you settled into a familiar rhythm, laughing and joking until you were all too tired to continue.

When morning came around and you and the girls began getting ready together, your heart tugged at just how much you valued your sisterhood with them. Despite it all, they’d remained your friends, checked up on you, and attempted to provide a sense of normalcy in your life.

“Are you nervous?” Abigail spoke into the concentrated silence, all three of you working on your makeup.

You glanced in your propped-up mirror to see her reflection behind you, awaiting a response. “I assume you’re not talking about walking across the stage.”

She shook her head in the negative. Given the past few weeks, you’d had enough practice banishing thoughts of Dutch from your mind that you’d grown rather good at it. That had included today, where you’d disallowed yourself to picture the ways your reunion could play out.

“I suppose I am a little.”

“Surely you’re excited, though?” Karen added on, sounding rather excited herself.

“Why would I be?”

“Well,” she drawled, “you clearly love the man. Ain’t there a part of you eager to be all lovey-dovey with him again?”

You turned to frown at her face-on, instead of through the reflection in your mirror. “What? No - I’m not going to carry on seeing him.”

They observed you, puzzled, and Abigail decided on a response. “But I thought that was what you agreed on, with John?”

“He said he’d find a way to deal with it. He shouldn’t have to do that,” you turned back to your mirror and continued preening. “I’m not going to start things up with Dutch again,” you lamented.

They didn’t question it, but you could feel their confusion in the air. You couldn’t blame them. They decided not to probe the subject further.

Sure, John had said he’d deal with it. He’d said he wanted you both to be happy. But before all that, you vowed to yourself that you’d do anything to have a friendship with him, and would you really be true to your word if you actively extended his discomfort?

John’s blessing had been music to your ears at first. But being so forgiving was easier said than done – who's to say he wouldn’t grow to resent you, the damage to your friendship being irreparable? It wasn’t a risk you could take.

Thankfully, the ceremony was the first thing on the agenda that day. There were no awkward encounters to be had, and you got to walk across the stage without falling over and receive your degree in relative peace. Again, you’d actively pushed the prospect of seeing Dutch again out of your mind until you were forced to deal with it in real-time.

But once the ceremony was finished, it was time for everyone to socialise in the sunny courtyard while the graduates took photos with their family and friends, leaving nowhere left for you to hide. Unless...

Thanks to your newfound habit, you excused yourself once the six of you had taken a group picture, proof that you had in fact been there, and had at least waited a few minutes before running away.

There was a quiet alley round the side of the main building, the wall of which you leaned up against and brought your newly lit cigarette to your lips. It was nice to decompress, and with all that’d happened in the last twenty-four hours alone, it was nice to have some peace.

You took your time, eventually lighting a second cigarette and deciding this would not be a healthy habit to keep up.

“When did you start smoking?”

That cigarette was nearly choked into your mouth at the baritone of Dutch’s voice, one you hadn’t heard in a longer while than you cared to admit.

You had to face him at some point, you supposed. At least this wasn’t in front of a whole group of people.

Slowly, you turned, the man himself coming into view. His hands were casually in his pockets, and as always, his suit was immaculate, and hair perfectly styled. There was one noticeable difference though; he looked tired.

“Gives me an excuse to escape. Plus,” you shunted the cigarette up a bit, “I miss the taste.” You looked at his lips, the hundreds of drunken kisses the two of you had shared that always had an underlying hint of tobacco. Dutch brushed his fingertips over your hand, and you pulled away, refusing to meet his gaze.

“Please, I can’t.”

“Didn’t John speak to you?”

“Yes, but it doesn’t matter. He’s not okay with it, regardless of what he says.”

Dutch’s shoulders dropped, and he leaned on the wall opposite you. His gaze was fixed on you, and you eventually met it.

The two of you looked at each other for a short while, and it was like you could read his mind, and tell him what you were thinking and feeling without saying a single word.

You missed him, you were sorry, he missed you, he was sorry.

More than anything, you wanted to wrap your arms around him and never let go, kiss him until your lips ached, and make a home in the crook of his neck.

“You blocked my number.” It wasn’t a question.

“I had to,” you took a drag and rolled the cigarette between your fingers once you’d dropped your hand back by your side.

“Did you really? You couldn’t have at least said goodbye – after all we’ve been through?”

“Don’t make me feel bad,” your tone came out angered, and you swiftly reeled yourself in. “I couldn’t feel any worse about the whole thing if I tried. There was no other choice, not if I wanted a chance at earning back John’s friendship.”

“The way I hear it, the two of you are already getting on.”

“He’s being kind. Kinder than I deserve and we’re a long way off repairing our friendship.”

Dutch nodded, and it hurt to see the pain that’d made camp on his face.

“How are things with the two of you?”

“Long way off,” he echoed. “He didn’t speak to me for a while, but he’s starting to be civil. I’m surprised by him, truth be told.”

“Why?”

“He’s been real grown up about it all,” his lips twitched with an unmitigated fondness, “we talked it all out, and he actually listened to my side of it. That’s two of my boys out-manning me, now.”

“Is Arthur okay?” you asked at the mention of him.

“Yeah,” he said noncommittally, “not happy with me either, but can’t say I blame him. Especially not after the Molly business.”

“I did try telling him you weren’t to blame.”

“I know.” The look he gave you was grateful, and you couldn’t only imagine the grief he’d received from the two men.

It was surreal to see him standing there. You wondered if you’d even remember this conversation in a week's time, or whether it’d be some lucid recollection you wouldn’t be able to pick out words from.

“Did you hear back about that interview?”

You nodded. “They offered me a job.”

Despite his saddened expression, a glint of pride broke its way through. “Congrats. You’ll do well there, should you decide to take it.”

“Thanks.” It wasn’t quite the reaction you’d pictured in your mind before all this nasty business, instead, it’d be Dutch pulling you into a boisterous embrace and immediately coming up with a schedule to ensure the two of you saw each other regularly enough.

His pained eyes glanced down your form and made their way back up to your face. The crease between his brows was permanently etched there now, it seemed.

“I’m sorry they found out that way,” he said.

“Me too. I don’t blame you for it.”

“Please,” he took a hesitant step towards you. “Reconsider. Is it not worth us trying, at least? John’s okay with it -”

“He is not. He’s only saying that because he feels obliged.”

“That’s not true, he came to me to talk about it, said he wants us to be together -”

“Do you not hear how insane that sounds? Why would he want his father and b- friend to be in a relationship?”

“Sorry to interrupt,” John’s voice broke into your conversation as he strolled over to the pair of you, “but my ears were burning.”

You both just looked at him, simmering back into your own spaces – it wasn’t a conscious decision to edge closer to Dutch.

“You’re arguing,” he observed.

“I -” you sighed, itching your brow, and abandoned your unformed sentence in favour of another drag from your cigarette.

“This is meant to be a happy day,” Dutch said guiltily.

“No, I know. I think I should go –”

“No,” John put a hand on each of your shoulders, stopping you from walking away from the situation. “Look, I’ll be honest, I’m tired of him moping,” he gestured his head towards his father.

Dutch slipped the cigarette from between your fingers and brought it to his mouth for a long drag. It was like static where his skin had brushed against yours, and your eyes lingered on his lips as he took a drag. He went to hand it back to you, but you shook your head.

“Keep it.”

“And I’m tired of you being so hard on yourself,” he narrowed his eyes at you, before looking between you both once more. “You shouldn’t have done what you did. You shouldn’t have gone behind my back for so long.”

The pair of you glanced at each other, scolded but in agreement with him.

“But I understand why you did. For the pair of you to do this, to take it this far – it must be something genuine.”

More genuine than you cared to admit. Being without Dutch was like being without a limb.

“You deserve the chance to test it out in the open. Ideally,” he huffed in mild amusement, “not too open. I don’t wanna watch you canoodling. But still. You do have my blessing,” he squeezed your shoulder, “and I’m not just saying that. I’ve thought about it, and I mean it.”

There were no words, so you rested your hand over John’s that was still planted on his shoulder.

“Thank you, son,” Dutch said, his voice cracking despite his hardened demeanour.

“Now,” John lightened his tone and the mood, “from what I hear they’re about to open the bar. And I don’t know about either of you but I sure as hell need a drink.”

“I sure do,” you agreed quietly, and Dutch beckoned for the two of you to proceed, and you all made your way over to the bar.

After John’s talk, you began to settle into the idea of trying again with Dutch. You were still hesitant, but since Dutch had reminded you to unblock his number, he’d messaged you regularly and gently brought you around to the idea.

So, you’d started talking more frequently, general chitchat and while it wasn’t quite the same, you found yourself valuing his conversation much more than you had previously. Still, you were hesitant to visit him, but Dutch agreed to ease back into the relationship, and going long periods without seeing him wasn’t an alien concept to you considering that’d been the norm for over two years.

It was only a few more weeks until John messaged the group chat saying Abigail had gone into labour, and he’d sent you a private message saying it might be a good time for you to go to his house, considering nobody would be there and you could have some alone time together.

Dutch too had messaged you, and you allowed your chest to grow warm at the thought of them colluding to convince you to come round. He’d confirmed the house was empty save for him, Tilly spending half of her summer staying at Arthur and Charles’ place.

You decided to bite the bullet and agreed, getting the train that same day before you had a chance to chicken out. Unsurprisingly, Dutch stood firm in his decision to pick you up from the station.

The car journey to his house had been quiet, the two of you not knowing where you stood or how to approach the situation. Arriving at his house and seeing the big stone driveway was enough to make your heartbeat quicken, the memory of your last visit resurfacing.

Dutch had made you a hot drink, and the two of you were sat outside in the late evening summer sun, thankful for the chirping birds that filled the silence.

“If you’re uncomfortable, please tell me. I’ll take you home, and I won’t be offended,” he said gently.

“I’m not uncomfortable,” you settled him, “it’s just a little strange as all. Didn't think I'd ever be here again.”

After a long sigh, Dutch shifted in his seat, angling himself towards you as though he had a secret he wanted only you to hear. “I have a plan.”

You raised your eyebrows at him. “A plan for what?”

“Making you a little more comfortable.”

“Let’s hear it.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a blunt.

You couldn’t resist laughing, looking at him in shock. “You want to get high?”

“Why not?”

“Because,” you began, though no reason came to mind why you shouldn’t. “Because - is that a good idea?”

“Course. Might help us loosen up a little.” His charming smile made you feel all fuzzy – his under eyes were less dark than when you’d seen him last and he looked overall more like himself. He was dressed down in a t-shirt and jeans, and you were appreciative of the delightful view of those hairy forearms of his.

“I didn’t even know you got high.”

“Where do you think John gets it?”

“You sell drugs?” your face shifted from shocked to understanding, “no wonder you’re so rich.”

“I do not sell drugs.”

“No. Just to your son?”

“No, I don’t want him buying overpriced shit from some sketchy dealer. If he’s going to do drugs, he’s going to at least do good drugs. Besides, I don’t support the criminalisation of it.”

“Right,” you laughed, not wanting to spur him onto his well-worn soap box. “Well then,” you plucked it from his fingers to rest it between your teeth and reached into his pocket where you knew he kept his lighter, relishing in the tensing of his thighs, and flicked it on to light the end of the joint. “Let us not waste any time.”

You blew out the smoke and handed it to him, his face looking close to boyish with his grin in response. “I like your attitude.” Dutch took an inhale of his own, and either you really did have a thing for guys when they smoked or this was some strong stuff, because you began to feel all tingly.

Relaxing back on the bench, you took in the view of the garden and tipped your head back, allowing the sun to graze over your face. “I have missed being here.”

“I’ve missed having you here,” Dutch said, and you cracked an eye open at him, to see him observing you fondly. “I’m glad, in a way.”

“About what?”

“It happening the way it did.”

“Why?”

“We don’t have to hide it any longer,” he rested his arm on the bench behind you, “the sneaking around was growing tiresome.”

“I suppose,” you took the blunt from him and brought it to your lips. “Still, not sure I’ll ever recover from that look on John’s face.”

“Let’s not go back there right now. I’ve spent too much time in that space recently.”

You handed the joint back to him thoughtfully. “Has your mental health been okay?”

Dutch chuckled knowingly. “It has not. Thankfully, I’ve learnt to recognise the unhealthy thought patterns, and I was on a higher dose of medication for a while.”

“You’re not now?”

“No,” he shook his head, blowing out the smoke. “After John’s talk, after I could speak to you again – it all calmed down.”

“I see. I’m sorry you were suffering.”

“That’s alright,” he shrugged, passing the joint over to you. Dutch was going to say something else when your phone buzzed, and you pulled it from your pocket, expression brightening at what greeted you on the screen.

“Congratulations are in order,” you tilted the screen towards him, and he looked over your shoulder at the photo of a baby clutched in Abigail’s arms with John leaning over, a tired grin on his face.

Dutch’s face softened into excitement, and he took his reading glasses from his pocket to place them on his face and get a better look. “Oh my, look at that.”

Another photo came through, a close-up of the baby accompanied by a message from John sent to the group chat.

Jack’s here. Abigail had a tough delivery, but she was great, and we now officially have a healthy son. Can’t wait for you all to meet him.

Very to the point, and very on-brand for John. “Jack,” you crooned, “that’s lovely.”

Dutch patted his pocket, scoffing. “My phone’s in the kitchen, let me go text him.”

“You remember the weed, but not your phone while your grandson is being born?”

“Oh hush,” he muttered as he walked into the house.

He returned a few minutes later, while you’d messaged your congratulations along with the rest of your friends.

“How’s it feel to be a grandfather?”

“Good, oddly enough,” Dutch settled beside you, noticeably closer than he had been previously, but you didn’t mind. He took the joint from you and had a couple of drags.

“He’s gorgeous,” you smiled, and the two of you settled into a rhythm of smoking and chatting while the sun bathed you in its rays.

It was a lovely evening, and it wasn’t long before the joint was burnt out and you’d slowly slipped to be nestled into Dutch’s side, his head resting on yours and fingertips running over your palm. The two of you remained like that, fully relaxed and happy just to be near each other, the odd shift in position the only thing to break the peaceful silence.

The movement of Dutch’s fingers had transmuted to the brushing of his palm up your arm, and you tilted your head to look at him. His hands felt so good, so firm and warm, his rings leaving a cool trail in their wake.

He glanced down at you, face content, and you couldn’t help but admire how gorgeous he was.

“I’m hungry.”

“I can order -”

You cupped his jaw and attached your lips to his, not sure you could wait a single moment longer. The two of you still hadn’t shared a kiss since you’d arrived, and the weeks of longing to have his lips on yours had been agonising.

“Oh,” he said once you’d pulled away.

You laughed softly, edging closer despite already being pressed up against him. His eyes had already grown hungry too, and you realised you weren’t hungry at all. You were ravenous.

The two of you demanded the next kiss at the same time, one not nearly enough to make up for all those you’d missed out on. He gripped your waist, and you twisted your hand into the collar of his shirt, the two of you not willing to part with the taste of each other's mouths.

“Darlin’,” he breathed when you both finally surfaced for air, and you touched the tip of your nose to his. “You don’t know how much I’ve missed that.”

“Believe me,” you pecked the corner of his mouth, “I do.”

He ran a hand over your hair and tilted his head when your expression turned devious. “Do I even want to ask?”

You shook your head and stood, leaving him still leaning forward where your body was now absent. “I’d rather show.”

With that you walked into the house, Dutch’s rushed and uneven footsteps soon following behind.

“What are we doing?” he said, excited, as you led him towards the study.

Once there, you sat on his desk and parted your legs. “I believe we have some unfinished business.”

“Oh,” he smirked and stopped in his tracks, running a hand through his hair and visibly less rigid thanks to the herbs in his system.

His eyes were fixed on the spot between your thighs as he stalked towards you, reaching his hands out and gripping your thighs once he was close enough, pulling them even further apart and growling from his chest as he nestled his crotch between them. You bit down on your lip when you felt how hard he was, becoming acutely aware of how much wetter you were than usual, likely a mix of your heightened senses and the given circumstance.

“I do admire your thoroughness, miss,” he murmured into your ear, trailing his lips over your lobe and down your neck.

You sighed weakly into the air and let your eyes fall shut, thighs attempting to tighten around him, but his grip was like iron as he kept your thighs in place. Then his lips were gone, and you opened your eyes to see that he was too. You looked down to find him knelt between your legs. “Thirsty?” you teased, and he grinned up at you, black pupils taking up almost all of his iris’.

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” he pushed the material of the dress up your legs and nuzzled his nose into your mound. “I do love you in a summer dress,” he murmured, and you could feel the vibrations from his baritone.

Dutch chuckled at your feeble attempt of pushing your hips closer to him, not relenting with his grip.

“Don’t worry sweet girl, I don’t have it in me to tease you right now.”

There was no time to answer before his mouth was on you, pressing over the wet material of your underwear. Dutch licked up your slit, tangling his tongue with the fabric and you whined, placing your hands behind you on the cool wood of his desk.

“That’s it,” he said, taking your underwear between his teeth to move it to the side, “let me hear you.”

You glanced down at him, the infatuation plain on his face as he stared at your dripping pussy. “What happened to not teasing me?”

“This is not teasing. Do you want to see teasing?”

“Dutch,” you warned, and he could hear the seriousness filter through your playful tone.

“Not tonight,” he decided, and dived right into his favourite meal.

Dutch kissed and sucked your skin, the responsiveness of your pussy providing him with more hydration than he could manage to take in, but he appeared up for the challenge. Gentle flicks of his tongue over your clit turned into a deep drag of it over your inner walls and you gasped his name repeatedly as he thoroughly lavished you with his tongue.

Your ecstatic orgasm came around fast, and you were sure you didn’t breathe for a minute straight as he drank up all you could give him. His hands had you trapped in place so you were powerless to buck your hips and instead had to let it all go right there, and Dutch was panting when he removed his mouth from you.

“Du -”

He pulled you into a kiss by the back of your neck, using his other hand to undo his jeans and shuck them down far enough to pull out his cock and ease into your accommodating cunt.

“Good lord,” he groaned, unable to focus on kissing you as your walls tensed, begging for his cock to never leave the home it found itself nestled in. “I never,” he gripped your chin between his thumb and forefinger once he’d pulled himself together, “want to go so long without your pussy again.”

“Deal,” you kissed him, spotting the small window of opportunity while he was distracted to pull your legs from his grip and wrap them around his hips, coaxing him even further in and he let out a pained whimper.

His hands grabbed the swell of either side of your ass, experimentally offering a few slight thrusts, but the sensation was enough to drive you wild. His thick cock felt perfect, and you mused whether that was the extra limb you’d been missing all this time.

The small thrusts turned to longer, languid ones that had you whining, Dutch obsessive with the way he clung to your body and began fucking you stupid.

Nothing else mattered aside from the euphoric pleasure racing through your body, being drilled into and marked by Dutch in what you assumed was every way he could think of. Nips to your collarbones, fingertips digging into your flesh, pussy fucked so deeply the skin felt raw. You didn’t care. The two of you were together again, and as was always the case when you fell into each other’s arms, the world was right again.

“Shit,” Dutch grunted, blinking his eyes tightly as he watched himself disappear into you at a reckless pace, now not the time for tender loving. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pressing your nose against his neck and breathing in the sheen of sweat on his skin. He was being greedy, his brain chasing one thing, the only thing that mattered at that moment. “It’s like you were made for me,” he began to babble to himself, and you knew he was close, so you held your own approaching orgasm until he was ready, “you’re so perfect, s-so fucking -”

Even words began to fail him as your body overtook every one of his thoughts, and that was a sentiment you shared as he fucked you deep and you cried out Dutch, because what other words were there?

He came hard, leaking into you as he pressed his hips forward, the desk jolting with the motion and you allowed your release to finally come too. His hands searched for an anchor, landing on the small of your back as he held you to him until he was completely empty.

The air around the two of you hummed, your bodies becoming soft and pliant at the familiar comfort of having your arms wrapped around each other. Eventually, each of you inched away to get a good look at the other.

Dutch’s eyelids were heavy, lips still shining with the remnants of you, and his hair had fallen around his face. He took in the view of you too and relaxed into a content smile, leaning forward to press his lips to yours, a tender act considering how hard he’d just defiled you. Neither of you had anything to say that would surmount the feelings you were experiencing in that moment.

So, you remained silent, breathing in one another until you were finally ready to face him pulling out.

As he tidied himself up, you leaned back on his desk and glanced to the side of his desk, noticing a picture frame. You took it in your hands and laughed minimally at the subject of the photo. “I can’t believe you have a picture of me here but not John.”

Despite the situation, Dutch'd made sure you get a photo with you at your graduation, you not realising he’d intended for it to take pride of place on his (now tainted) desk.

“I look better in this photo,” he said matter-of-factly. His expression softened when you raised your brows in questioning. “Or, perhaps you just make me look good.”

You shook your head, for him to shrug himself of judgement and join you in admiring the photo after he’d planted a kiss on your forehead.

It was true; you did look good together.

You’d intended to only stay at Dutch’s for a few days but found yourself not wanting to leave his side. In the end, you’d gone home for a single night to grab more stuff and made your way back to him first thing the next morning.

The day finally came when Abigail and John returned, and you watched them from the window as they made their way up the driveway, a carrier in hand. Dutch’d been fretting about the nursery – which the blue spare room had been turned into, and you were glad you hadn’t needed to part with ‘your’ room even if you did stay in Dutch’s - and whether it had everything it needed, despite already buying far too much stuff. Little Jack was surely going to be spoilt.

While you were overjoyed to get to spend so much time with the baby, Abigail and John were also happy to have you and Dutch on hand to take over when they needed a break, you ended up returning home for a time after being there for a couple of weeks, the start date at your new job just around the corner.

Since you spent the majority of your time working from home, it didn’t matter whether you stayed at your house or Dutch’s. Not wanting to rush too much into your relationship, or crowd the new family under the roof, you and Dutch agreed to a few nights a week at his place, then you'd spend the rest of it at yours. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t attempt to convince you to stay one extra night every time you had to leave, though.

Being around John while staying with his father had been awkward at first. But soon, as with all change, it became the new normal. It was nice, really, having him and Abigail so close by. It hadn’t taken long for Jack to become your favourite member of the family.

It was a few months down the line, and the Van der Linde house was full. John had worked through his nerves, but having family on hand, he’d begun taking fatherhood in his stride. He’d been grateful for you too, and you couldn’t deny that you were secretly pleased about having the advantage of the chance to be Jack’s favourite Auntie, aside from Tilly of course.

You were all in the garden after Dutch’d done a small barbeque, you stood by the table bobbing little Jack in your arms. “I do love being an auntie,” you expressed to the group, infatuated with the baby’s gorgeous cheeks.

Abigail turned to you; her face pensive. “Wouldn’t you be his step-grandma?”

Not that you’d expected anything less, but even Abigail had taken to the now-popular hobby of teasing you. Somehow, even Dutch had gotten in on the action. He snickered, John’s laugh echoing from the kitchen (his selective hearing was truly a wonder) before he walked outside and gave Abigail a proud kiss on the head.

“Isn’t your momma just the funniest?” you said down to Jack, after taking an offended pause.

She grinned at you, and you couldn’t help but return the smile.

Eventually, you’d parted with your nephew (no, he was not your step-grandson no matter what anyone said) and began taking the plates into the kitchen, loading them up into the dishwasher.

Dutch seized the opportunity to pat your ass as you were bent down, and you scoffed at him. “Perv.”

He laughed easily, bringing in the cutlery and loading it in himself. After you’d turned on the washing machine, you both took to watching the small family through the window, sitting on a mat on the grass and marvelling at Jack who’d recently learnt how to roll over.

“Now that kid will be a genius,” hummed Dutch, and you tutted at him.

“Will you leave the poor boy alone before you start locking him up with the books?”

Dutch ran his hands around your waist, holding you comfortably from behind, his warm and inviting torso a perfect cushion for your back. “I’ve half a mind to lock you up.”

“Oh, I’m sorry – do I not allocate enough time to you?” you quipped, and he chuckled into your hair.

“Not nearly enough to satiate me.”

You tsked through your teeth, resting your hands on top of his.

“I’m serious,” he added, and you glanced round to catch his eye.

“Oh, come on, what now?”

“I’ve been thinking...”

“I’ve learnt to view that sentence as a warning.”

Dutch’s eyes crinkled with his amusement, and he placed a kiss on your temple. “All I’m saying is I would love to have you here permanently. I say it not as a demand, not for something to do right now, but something to let brew in that wonderful mind of yours.”

“And you say I’m the one always jumping to the next step,” you kissed him sweetly, and he tightened his hold around you as you looked back out the window.

“It’s a mere suggestion, darlin’. Something for you to ponder when you find yourself bored.”

All you could do was smirk, this irrevocably charming man always willing to prove his need to have, which you’d deduced was just another name for a more potent form of desire; a thing he seemed to have in bucket-loads for you. You rested your head back against him, revelling in the promise of comfort and belonging that kept you company whenever you found yourself in his arms.

“Whatever you say, Mr Van der Linde.”

a/n: hopefully none of you need the reminder but pls don't fuck your best friend's dad, author does not condone it. also I know Dutch would probably be an absolute nightmare on weed given his paranoia, but in this universe that’s not a thing because I don't want it to be :)

#dutch van der linde x reader #dutch van der linde x f!reader #dutch x reader #dutch van der linde #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 #fanfiction #my stuff

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ccghastly · 1 year

Text

Van der Linde fellas react to an Asexual S/O

GN Reader

Arthur, John, Hosea, Dutch, Bill, Sean, Charles, Javier

Written w/ the reader being non sex-repulsed, but nothing explicit

I take requests! Feel free to ask!

Arthur

I hc Arthur as Demisexual, so he probably understands the easiest. The further you get into your explanation the more things start clicking in his head.

There are multiple confused rambling passages in his journal as he tries to think through this reality you've introduced to him.

Expect him to get very tactile as he seeks comfort and anchors himself while his thoughts get sorted.

Gets even more confused than normal when you call him sexy or say something he does is attractive, but does quickly catch on to the idea of mental vs physical attraction.

Now asks if this is okay before doing anything he thinks may be pushing you. Which, until you establish your hard limits, will be everything. Very sweet, 1001 check ins for 1001 kisses.

"Still Alright?" . "I'm Alright."

John

Does not understand and fully willing to accept that. Still supportive though.

He does not want to mess this up, so the reigns are now fully in your hands. Hope you were ready to wear the pants of this relationship, cause what you say goes.

He backpeddles a bit too far and you'll now have to initiate everything, unless you manage to convince him otherwise.

He 100% tries to get advice from Arthur, but doesn't want to out you, so he just poses more and more obscure hypotheticals. Until they're both mindlessly arguing and Hosea has to come break them up.

Hosea

Fully supportive from the start.

You are not the first Ace he's met, not even the fifth.

He'll tell you a few stories and crack a few jokes

"Probably for the best with me getting up in age, not sure I could keep up with your youthful vigor."

The both of you have been caught on several occasions reading explicit books to make fun of the maneuvers and tropes.

"It's a good thing people don't buy these for the plot!"

You are the sickenly sweet couple that never seems to leave the honeymoon phase, sweet kisses, holding hands, pet names, cuddling by the fire. The whole shebang.

Dutch

Does not understand, May accuse you of making it up or being dramatic

Is the kind of guy to insist you just haven't had good sex yet, but fear not he's willing to help you.

Had heard of it, but thought it was in the same vein as husbands saying they have a headache and wives saying they have their monthlies. Saying no without having to say no.

If you drag Hosea into it, Dutch will probably concede that you're not lying and apologize, but don't expect him to fully be on the same page with you.

Bill

(tw for allusions to noncon against an offscreen character, that is not the Reader or Bill)

Gets real quiet, then asks you to explain it again, then again, and again once more.

Asks a few tentative questions, then gently asks to hold you

"Did somethin' happen, someone hurt you?"

You rush to explain that, no you're perfectly fine, nothing happened. You just don't seem to feel lust the way most folk do.

He breathes a big sigh of relief, slumping down and gathering you close in his lap to hold you tight.

He explains that while he was in the army, he'd known some people that had been real similar, but only after some real bad stuff had happened to them.

Bill now mooches cuddles from you like they're being rationed.

Sitting down? It's on his lap. Standing up? His arm's around your waist. Walking to town? You're holding hands. Going to bed? Meet your new blanket.

Sean

Error 404 Sean.exe has stopped working.

Not wanting/needing Sex?? He does not understand.

You'll need to explain multiple times, over multiple days. Then explain again when he gets your explanations twisted up in his head.

"You don't want sex, but we can have sex? You'd do that just to make me feel nice??"

He feels blessed, he's dating the sweetest person to walk this earth. No other person can compare, and he's ready to shout it from the rooftops. Tried it once with a saloon when he was a few pints too deep, Arthur had to rescue him after he got stuck and started crying.

Thought he was gonna die up there and never get to see you again

Charles

Very Understanding, did ask for a few clarifications, but believed what you were explaining the whole time.

Not comfortable asking for penetrative sex, but if you want to watch or help him find his pleasure he's fully willing.

Unending cuddles from this man.

Makes him feel kinda guilty, but he really enjoys getting to touch you with no stress about taking it up a level.

Gets even more protective of you when people try to push their luck, you'll never be groped again, no ones dumb enough to try with him glaring over your shoulder.

Once knocked a guy out for lewdly catcalling you.

Javier

Tries to be supportive, but does not understand.

Will occasionally try to get you in the mood and you'll have to explain it to him once again.

When he finally gets it, he swerves hard into romance.

If he can't express his adoration for you physically, he'll do it how he knows best

He is going to charm your socks off.

There's compliments, there's flowers, there's serenading, there's moonlit strolls, picnics in flower fields, candle lit dinners, sweet kisses 24/7, and the Flirting! The flirting never stops!

You never knew so many pickup lines exsisted and for so many situations, but you're about to find out.

(Based on my own experiences being and coming out as Ace, please be kind)

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cowboydisaster · 1 year

Note

Daddy Dutch x pregnant!reader headcanons pleeeease I need this man looking after me🥲🥲🥲

Headcanons: Dutch van der Linde x pregnant reader

When you first tell him, he's afraid to even touch you. The juxtaposition of his big hands and your soft, growing belly is one that makes him nervous, but after some time, he gets more comfortable. He'll place his hand on your abdomen while he falls asleep most nights, smiling subconsciously every time he feels a little kick. The further along you get, the more his hands are on your stomach, holding you and protecting the little life that the two of you have created.

Dutch has atrocious baby name ideas. Considering the fact that he made his con name "Hoagy Macintosh," it's best that you come up with the baby names. He most definitely wants to name the baby Evelyn.

No matter how late in the night it is, or what the weather, Dutch will find a way to get you the snacks that you're craving, odd as they may be. He tries to stock up on your favorite combinations, and he gives hell to anyone who takes one of your comfort foods from their special spot on Pearson's table.

He buys books on pregnancy, and oftentimes, you see him reading them late at night. He tries to stay awake, gathering as much information as he can to help you along and learn as much as possible over the next handful of month

Even when you try to hide it, Dutch notices the crick in your neck, the near constant ache in your back and feet. He takes on the role of being your personal masseuse, beckoning you to sit down more often than not and easing the aches of your body with his big hands.

He does everything in his power to make you as comfortable and content as possible during your pregnancy. You're bringing his child into the world, it's the least he can do.

Every night when he lies down beside you, he pulls your chin to him and plants a soft kiss on your lips, and then, leaning down the bed, he places a kiss to your growing bump, something talking go the baby, telling her (he's sure it's gonna be a girl) how much she is already loved.

He falls more in love with your body every day, watching it grow and expand to carry the life that you've created. He can't imagine anything more beautiful than you, beaming and bright, carrying his baby.

#dutch van der linde x reader #dutch van der linde #dutch van der linde headcanons #dutch x reader #rdr2 dutch #pregnant reader

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