#250$!!! crazy insane for an empty house

[cuntylittlesalmon]

🫡

[verse50]

Heat

It was the first weekend over 80F and we took full advantage of it on our six acres. Friday night we let the kids loose on the rock pile, loading up the trailer for the dump, then packed them off early Saturday for soccer camp. All morning he bush-hogged the treeline while I wrestled the sunken raised beds into shape. This house had been so neglected when we bought it two years ago. Finally we had the time and money to make it nice again.

I was pulling weeds when he tromped out in chaps and ear protection. Chainsaw hanging from his belt. That and the sweaty dirt on his face made me look a bit longer.

“I’m gonna saw up that alder and then get to the stairs,” he half shouted. Bush hogging will do that to you. He grinned and took out his ear plugs. “The beds are coming along, maybe-” I was on my knees and gazed up at him quizzically.

“You’re not wearing a bra,” he said, at the perfect angle to peer down my shirt.

“Nope!” I agreed, and swung myself back and forth. It looked and felt like two water balloons bumping in a pillowcase. Then stuck out my tongue.

His mouth set. “I gotta get the stairs done today.” Then he was gone into the brush, chainsaw revving. I bent down again to the weeds, trying to drown my frustration with deep breaths. 

He was so hard to read. I was a free spirit, a spitfire, and he was a calm, methodical engineer with a heart of gold. There was no better man on the planet, I was convinced, but gosh sex was tough with him! It took him so long to adjust to change. A toe ring. The tiniest gold nose ring. A tattoo on my ankle. Introducing him to my vibrator. I had to pace everything at six month intervals or it was too much.

 But once he got used to it...holy fucking shit. He basically dissected that vibrator and and studied the user manual. Found similar ones, tested them on me like I was a guinea pig. Even took me to a toy store in Dallas then fucked the daylights out of me until 3am. And then...it all petered out like a spent firework. I would try to keep the energy going, keep him interested, but I could never tell what worked. He was pretty shy about sex, almost embarrassed. He wasn’t comfortable with dirty talk. We couldn’t really sext because his job required cellphones be lockered except at lunch. We could go months on once a week then he would surprise me with a two day fuckfest, like a volcano erupting. I lived for those times but could never figure out how to make them happen more often. All it did was make me ramp up with excitement, feel more free, then try to cram myself in a box again. He was such a good man, though. I just needed to be more patient, less wild. I ripped up the weeds angrily.

The sun was high when he came in for lunch. I had sandwiches, chips, and his favorite tea ready. There was even more dirt on his face and I sat there awkwardly, trying to equate my silent chip-crunching husband with the dirty woodsman I wanted to pounce on.

“I think I’ll build out the landing a bit from the stairs, maybe put in a new handrail,” he said. I sipped my tea and nodded. “The driveway could use some gravel.”

“The trailer has all the rocks in it still,” I pointed out.

“Mmm. I’ll go to the dump first, then hit Home Depot and Brother’s Fieldstone.” He looked at me as if I had just appeared at the table. “You’re wearing a bra now.”

“Uh-huh.” I cut off a smart-ass retort and became very busy fishing pickles from their jar. “I’m gonna work on the petunia baskets.”

After the peck on my cheek he would be gone for at least two hours. I ripped off my bra, blasted Slayer on my bluetooth speaker, and delved into the hanging baskets. By the time I had repotted everything and cleaned up the cobwebby  lounge chairs I was a filthy mess. Shower time.

You couldn’t see our house from the road. I went out on the deck in just a towel, then threw it off and lay naked on a chair, basking like a lizard. Big fluffy clouds blocked the sun momentarily, then shooed away when I spread my legs wide. Everything needed to dry. My hair would need a serious flatiron session. Idly I thought of him coming out of the forest...rushing home...making a beeline for me...a naked woman tanning herself alone...so easy to take advantage...helpless...but there was a shotgun behind the door...

Damn it, I thought. Can’t even have a fantasy and it gets all practical. He’s wearing off on me. I looked at my phone. About 30 minutes of naked freedom left- I should water the baskets again. I picked up the hose and my phone rang.

“Hey baby,” I said, working up the cheerful wife tone. He really was wonderful. I just needed to...not need so much.

“Baby, guess how much the lumber cost for the deck, right now?”

I thought for a minute. It has been awhile since we did a major project. “Um, I think we did the brown house for under $600?”

“Yeah, well, I priced it all out. It’s gonna be over $2000! We can’t swing that now. It’s insane, the prices. Never seen anything like it. And Brother’s is out of pea gravel!” He was worked up. This man stuck to budgets religiously.

“O my God! No, you’re right. We can’t do that now. The deck will be fine for awhile, definitely. It’s sturdy at least.” The sun was so hot on my back. I stared at my shadow, waving the limp hose to and fro.

“So I emptied the trailer and uh, checked everything out. Since we can’t do anything more on that today I, um....” he coughed. I waited, cautiously easing on the water. “I went to that new little toy store in the strip mall.”

Water spurted out onto my shadow. “I see. What kind of toys?”

“The only kind!” His voice rose. The hose engorged and gurgled. “I found one like your pink one, you know that does the swirly thing, too? But this seems to be a softer material, a better grade of silicone, I think this company merged with a big distributor and, uh...”

My mouth twisted. It was just like him to get carried away on technical aspects. “That’s so sweet, baby. What are you wanting to do with that?”

“I want to use it on you.” He was almost whispering, as if there were seven other people in his F-250. “Like Dallas.” It was such a distant memory. I couldn’t work myself all up again, it was too exhausting. But he went to the store, my dear husband...he wants something.

“You can do whatever you want to me, baby,” I said sincerely. “Just come home and we can hang out the rest of the day.”

“I don’t want to hang out. I want- I want you to not wear a bra again. I don’t want you to feel, uh, like you have to put it back on? Around me?”

I aimed the water where my shadow’s pussy would be. Cool drops sprayed up onto my flushed skin.

“I’m not wearing a bra right now.”

“What?”

“I’m naked out on the deck. Been tanning after I took a shower.”

Silence. He was gunning the truck, I could hear the roar.

“I hope you’re bringing some wood home for me.” VVVBBBBRBbbbbRRRRrr.

“Baby, if you can just let me plan stuff. It’s easier for me. I’m sorry I’m slow and I disappoint you. I wanted to tear your shirt off there but I’m just never sure...I don’t want to do anything you don’t like, I don’t want to hurt you- really- just let me plan sometimes and maybe try to go along? I promise I’ll do better, you are so sexy-” sfhkhfffffppp. His phone cut out. I stood there, dumb, watching the water drip my shadow off the edge of the deck. He had never talked to me so much at one time. “-if I can plan and know in advance that you like it we can do more, you drive me crazy you know that, right?”

I took a deep breath. My legs were shaking into the damp, hot wood. “How do you want me to be, when you get home?”

Pause. More gunning. “On the deck chair, doggy. Ass in the air. Wait- I need to shower first.”

“No, you don’t. You’re sexy with the dirt on you. I love it.”

“You do?”

“Yes, I love my sexy, dirty husband.”

“Ok.” He was firm. The blinker was on, he was at the intersection ten minutes away. “Ass up, doggy. Hands by your side. Face turned away from the stairs. I don’t want you to see me. I have-have- a special delivery.”

I turned off the water. The whole deck was soaked. Not one basket had gotten a drop. “Ass up ready to receive. I’ll be waiting for you, baby.” I was so excited my words came out slowly, bouncing through a lump in my throat. The sun was cold and hot at the same time.

“If you respond well there will be future appointments.” His voice was full of confidence before the phone shut off.

I almost tripped on my way over to the lounge chair. Fortunately my towel was there in case things got really wet.

Thank you to @daily-esprit-descalier for sharing the photo that inspired this story.

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[reddeadinmybed]

Simplicity (M)

ANON ASKED; can we get NSFW dutchxreader? maybe something a little rough but not too violent or crazy.

Life on a farm was never easy. My father was never one to ask for money from loan sharks, he was too proud of a man to ever admit that he needed help when times were troubling. However, when a stormy night hit the farm and destroyed the crops and killed our livestock, my father had no choice. My father had somehow managed to find a loan shark easy due to them being only up the road. Something about them recently moving here from Ambarino.

The lenders name was Leopold Strauss. He was a German who was very good with numbers and anything mathematical. He lent my father approximately $250 to let the farm to get back on its feet again, which didn’t need the insane amount of money. He gave my father the time limit of a week and if we didn’t seek him out, he would send one of his men to come and “collect the money” for him. Sounded like a crock of shit to me. No loan shark would come and collect the money without starting a fight.

When my father told my little sister and I, we hit the roof. My father didn’t know the first thing about loaning or money in general. My father was now well over-encumbered with money and my sister and I had to make sure that the money was going to be spent accordingly and wouldn’t be spent on the likes of alcohol. It was either my father spending all the money for his own pleasures, or it was some assholes trying to steal the money for their own pleasures.

My sister and I thought we had managed to get the money back on time. We had put the money in the safe and didn’t let father know where the key was hidden. He agreed, not wanting to be indebted to a loan shark for the rest of his life. It was perhaps one of the smartest moves he made ever since mum died. The smartest move he ever made was to quit drinking and start focusing on a life with his two daughters.

Everything was going great until our farm got raided by some scum who called themselves the O’Driscoll’s. They stole our money, the money that we had saved to return to Leopold Strauss. They had blown up the safe whilst my father, sister and myself went to Valentine to grab supplies. 

We came back to nothing. No money. No cattle. Absolutely nothing. We were lucky they didn’t burn our house down. If they had, we would not have been able to have shelter. We were already on the cusp of losing the house. Prices were slowly starting to increase and supplies were scarce.

Leopold Strauss was going to send someone after us and there was nothing we could do about it. There was no way the three of us could make $130 in four hours. Father was told 6:00pm otherwise they would come and if was 2:00pm now.

Father told us that he was going to handle this problem and that we needed to hide. Something about not wanting any of the men in the gang to know we were here however we didn’t make it.

Just as my sister and I were going to hide, there was a man who kicked the door opened. My sister screamed in surprise and I pulled her closer to me, protecting her from the man. My sister was clinging to me desperately, terrified of the man who just knocked our door off its hinges.

“Mr L/N, it appears you haven’t handed us our money back.” The man says whilst taking a look around our house, most probably searching for something for him to take.

“Mr Williamson, you have to believe me when I say I had the money but those O’Driscoll boys took all of it. They had left us with nothing...I-I–”

Mr Williamson grabbed a glass from the cabinet and grabbed the scotch that was half empty. He then took a seat at the table and placed his feet on top of it. Mr Williamson poured himself a shot and brought it to his mouth, swigging it back.

“Now Mr L/N, do you really think I care about those damn O’Driscoll’s? You learn money to our Strauss and you need to pay up.” Mr Williamson chuckled, clearly finding the whole situation amusing.

Father spluttered with his words, giving Mr Williamson more of a reason to find the situation funny. Mr Williamson just sat there and continued to chuckle and pour another drink, knocking it back.

Mr Williamson looked over toward my sister and I, finally noticing us standing there, shaking in fear. If it was even possible, my sister gripped onto me even harder. I felt that if she held onto me tighter, I would die from getting crushed.

Mr Williamson gave a smirk.

“Well ain’t this a surprise,” he looked over at father. “Forget about the money Mr L/N, we’ll clear the debt for one of your beautiful beautiful girls over here.” Mr Williamson started as he creeped towards us.

“You leave them alone you hear! They’re not taking a single step out of this house with you. You and your gang can...can go fuck themselves! You hear me? Go fuck your self!” Father yelled and took steps closer towards Mr Williamson.

“Shut up you old bastard.” Mr Williamson pulled his gun out of his holster and whacked father over the head with it. Father fell to the floor, knocked unconscious from the impact of the hit.

My sister screamed, scared because father was our protector yet he was knocked out on the floor, leaving me to deal with Mr Williamson by myself, who was staring at my sister with predatory eyes.

Panic swarmed through me at the thought of Mr Williamson trying to take my sister. There was no way I could let him take her. I would rather him take me and even kill me before he even lays a finger on her.

“Now the question is, which one of you ladies should I take as payment.” Mr Williamson’s smirk only grew wider when my grip on my little sister tightened. It was obvious he wanted my sister and his menacing steps towards the two of us made it even more obvious.

“Y-You leave her alone you! Take me instead. I will go willingly if you let her go.” The words were meant to come out strong and make me long strong but my words were stumbled and quiet.

Mr Williamson’s smirk didn’t falter. He knew that I was scared and he knew that I couldn’t do a thing to stop him from taking my little sister. I would still try my hardest to keep the evil man that stands before me from stealing my little sister.

If Mr Williamson manages to take my little sister, I would never forgive myself.

“Well then. If I can’t have her...I’ll take you.” Me Williamson grabbed my arm and yanked me towards him. His grab caused me to go flying into his chest.

He stank of alcohol, no doubt he was drunk even before he came to ‘collect his money’. The smell made me want to gag, it was so bad. Not to mention that he hadn’t bathed in what seemed like centuries.

“H-hey! Let go of me!” I yelled out, trying to yank myself out of his grip.

Mr Williamson laughed.

“Look at what we got here. First she wants me to let her sister go and now she wants me to let her go. Well, I’ve got some bad news for ya sweetheart...” he looked me dead in the eye, “I’m going to have to take you with me. You’re the payment.” He then started walking towards the door, his grip on my collar pulling me with him.

“Y/N!” My little sister yells and proceeds to run after me.

Mr Williamson ignored her pleas and hogtied my hands before throwing me on the floor and hogtying my legs together. He threw me over his shoulders, his disgusting hands giving my waist a squeeze. He chuckled, throwing me over the horse.

“Y/N! No, please don’t go! I need you!” My sister cried out but there was nothing I could do. I was stuck on the horse and I couldn’t even see her. The repulsive man in front of me had faced me away from my little sister so as Mr Williamson got on his horse and started cantering away, I could only turn my head and look at her.

She looked a mess, crying her eyes out and eventually she collapsed onto her knees and thrusted her arms out as if she was trying to grab me. My little sister looked broken hearted and as Mr Williamson’s horse retreated, a tear fell from my eye.

How was I going to survive this?

It was only a 30 minute ride but it felt like hours. I didn’t attempt to speak in fear that I would get hit. I didn’t look towards Mr Williamson at all, not wanting to attract his attention towards me. During the ride Mr Williamson pulled out a flask and proceeded to frantically drink out of it. He finished it by the time we made it to the gangs hideout.

When Mr Williamson’s horse was hitched up, he grabbed my waist again, muttering about how nice my waist looked, threw me over his shoulder, and walked towards a large tent.

There was people in this gang - women to be in fact. They didn’t at all look intimidating, apart from one but she only looked stressed, ordering them girls to clean the sheets and clothes. Maybe they were like me. Slaves.

“Jesus Bill, Strauss sent you to collect money, not a girl.” One of the males said to Bill.

The man wore a worn out stenson with a blue shirt. He had a bandana wrapped around his neck and wore blue jeans with black and white suspenders. He had chaps that overlapped his pants and wore black boots. He was handsome, there was no denying it.

“Oh shut it Arthur, maybe if you could’ve done it better you should’ve gone instead,” Bill retorted and proceeded to walk towards the tent.

I looked at Arthur and he gave me an apologetic look, apologising on behalf of Bill.

I didn’t even get the chance to smile back at him because I was thrown to the floor. I grunted as I hit the floor, the air being knocked out of my lungs. I wheezed trying to find air for me to breathe again.

“Mr Williamson, I trust that this girl is important and that’s why you’ve kidnapped her from her home and robbed her from her family.” A sombre voice rang out and it had me turning to see who was the owner of the voice.

He was a tall but handsome man. He held a cigar in one hand and had the other holding on to his belt. He wore a black top hat with a red lining. He wore all black consisting of a black button up, jacket, dress pants and shoes. He stood there like a god and he looked like one too.

There was a girl in the tent who had red hair. She was gorgeous and had her hair professionally put up and looked perfectly in place. Her dress accentuated all her curves and made her bust looked luscious and plump. She was glaring at me, seeming displeased that I had pulled her away from the gorgeous man that stands before me.

“Dutch, this woman is payment for the L/N loan. Apparently the O’Driscoll’s had stolen their money right before I came. As punishment I took her.” Bill’s words made me angry; livid even.

“The O’Driscoll’s took everything we had! Even our payment to you, you incompetent asswipe.” I spat towards Bill, tired of seeing his excruciatingly annoying face.

Bill looked at me, annoyance dripping down his face.

“Now you shut it you dumb little bi –”

“Enough Bill. You can leave now.” Dutch called out, not once looking at him, his gaze remaining on me. “Before you do leave, untie the girl, she doesn’t need to be bound.” He placed the cigar in his mouth.

It was like I was entranced. Everything he did was perfect and all he did was put a cigar in his mouth.

Bill untied me and Dutch offered his hand out for me to grab. Apprehensively, I grabbed his hand and he pulled me up and towards him. I collided into his hard chest and his hand let go of mine and he placed it on my waist, stabilising me.

I blushed, not expecting such a brazen move. He was all kinds of warm, from his hands to his gaze. The weather was warm, probably why his grip was so warm.

“Everybody gather around. This here is –” he stopped and looked at me, expecting me to introduce myself.

“Y/N,” I muttered. It was so quiet I don’t even think that Dutch had heard it but he had.

“This is Y/N. She will be staying with us now. Keep your eye on her and if she runs away,” he paused to look at me. “Bring her back.” His voice was deep and it brought a shiver down my spine. It was clearly a warning. A warning to let me know that if I try and escape, there will be hell to pay.

A couple of minutes passed and everyone went back to what they were doing. People were cooking, others cleaning. Some were sitting there and writing in a book - a ledger. Most likely Leopold Strauss.

However Arthur caught my attention the most. He had a journal open and it appeared he was sketching. He looked at me ever so often and it didn’t take a genius to put two and two together. Arthur was drawing me.

I slowly moved towards him and sat down next to him. He was sitting on a log that was overlooking the river. There was a lot of bugs around here but it was something that Arthur had seemed to be used to, not paying attention to any of the bugs flying around his face.

“Do you like drawing Mr –” I waited to hear his last name.

“Morgan,” he looked up towards me, staring at me for a bit before looking back down and sketching once again. “The last name is Morgan.” He looked very handsome sketching, yet not quite as handsome as Dutch.

“Mr Morgan,” I tested out his name and Arthur looked up at me. I gave a small smile and he returned one to me.

I had no idea but I wasn’t afraid. Mr Morgan made me feel...safe. It was as if he would never hurt me. I know its strange considering I just met him but he doesn’t look like he would hurt me. In fact, no one in this camp looks it. Apart from Mr Williamson and one other man in this camp (he had blonde hair and a strange moustache with an expression that was truly evil), it didn’t seem that any of them wanted to hurt me. Hell they even had a kid in this camp.

I felt somewhat safe with this camp which is definitely crazy considering they just kidnapped me from my family and my home.

“The answer is yes.” Mr Morgan said, confusing me. I frowned at him as if trying to remember if I said anything.

“You asked me if I liked to draw,” Mr Morgan clarified. “Yes, I like to draw.” Was all he said and we were sat in silence again.

I took one look at Dutch and he was talking to the girl in his tent. They didn’t look happy, somewhat yelling at each other. You could hear the phonograph playing classical music, drowning out their argument. I then looked back at the river again and watched as the sun started to go down.

I don’t know how I’m going to survive here but I’m hoping that eventually, they’ll let me see my family again.

It’s been a couple of weeks since I have been with the gang known as the Van Der Linde Gang. I have gotten to know everyone a bit better during the weeks I’ve resided here. I’ve even gotten to know Bill. He was a grumpy brute and although I don’t particularly like him (or Micah and Molly) I remain - for some silly reason - hopeful that a friendship can grow between the two of us.

I’m extremely close to Arthur Morgan and Mary-Beth. Karen doesn’t like me too much, saying I need “exposure to the real world and not some fairytale world”. The reason being that Mary-Beth and I love to read. We love to read about other lives. Other lives being the rich and famous and love stories that we could only dream of.

Arthur is my lifeline. When I felt like I was drowning, Arthur had managed to pull me back and remind me of who I am and what I was doing here.

Although I miss my family very much, I felt like this was the life that I was missing. I felt like I was meant to be here. I didn’t want to leave this place. Yes, I wanted to see my family again, everyone would in my situation. Yet I feel like I don’t want to go back to how things were before. It seemed boring.

Over the few weeks I also got to know Dutch Van Der Linde and his somewhat ‘girlfriend’ Molly O’Shea. Dutch refuses to call her that but Molly jumps at the chance, reminding me that Dutch belongs to her.

It was currently 7:30 in the afternoon and the sun had just left the sky a couple of minutes ago, yet there was a gorgeous residue of patterns from the sun that littered the sky. It was gorgeous.

“Miss L/N,” Mr Matthews voice called out. I turned to face him, a smile on my face.

Mr Matthews was a lovely old man who acted like a father to me. He always talked about his ex-wife Bessie and how things used to be. They were interesting stories and I loved to sit down by the fire and listen to them, a smile on my face.

“Yes Mr Matthews,” I said whilst turning around to face him completely.

His old age was slowly getting to him, the wrinkles becoming evident as each day passes. I had no idea how old he truly was but I was assuming he was in his late 60’s to early 70’s.

“Dutch would like a word with you in his tent.” A spark of nervousness ignited in my belly. The tingle I felt made my breath hitch and I could only give a small smile as a response to Mr Matthews.

He walked off leaving me to sit there and think about what Dutch could possibly want. Was it that he has noticed the stares that I give him? Was he going to kick me out of the gang? Was he going to yell at me for doing something wrong? My mind went into overdrive, thinking of all the worst case scenarios in my head.

I stood up abruptly and started walking towards Dutch’s tent which was all closed off. I had no idea how I was going to let him know that I was there, it wasn’t like I could knock on the sheet. Instead I resorted to, “Mr Van Der Linde, I’m here.”

Dutch uttered out a “come in,” and I found myself opening the sheet and stepping inside, making sure the sheet was shut properly. I then turned to face Dutch and my jaw almost dropped with the sight I had before me.

Dutch held a book in his hand and flicked the page when he had finished the page. His jacket was not one and his shirt was unbuttoned allowing me to see his chest. His hat was sitting on top of a barrel and I could see his hair was rough due to the hat being on all day.

“Y-yes Mr Van Der Linde?” I asked, stuttering at the beginning.

Dutch noticed this, a smirk on his face as he took a puff of his cigar. He blew out the smoke and placed cigar on a tray, ensuring that the whole tent won’t set on fire due to the cigar dropping.

“Miss L/N, I have called you in here so I can discuss a...an observation I have seen with you and Mr Morgan in the camp.” At the mention of Arthur my cheeks turned red.

Oh no, he thinks I like Mr Morgan!

“M-Mr Morgan? He and I are merely just friends, he and I a-are nothing more.” I muttered out quickly and Dutch smirks once again.

Dutch closed the book and placed it on the barrel before walking closer towards me. I took a step back, not wanting to be in his way but it appears he was walking towards me. I took another step back, afraid of what he was planning.

He flicked the switch of the phonograph and classical music started to play. The sound blocked my thoughts, it being way too loud for me to think.

“Dance with me Y/N.” The way he said my name sent a shiver down my spine. He offered out his hand and I didn’t even think before I grabbed his hand, eager to dance with him.

He pulled me to him, much like the first day that I met him, and I collided to his chest. His arms encircled around my waist, giving a little squeeze before his left hand gripped my own.

My breath hitched at being so close to him. His grip on me was tight, as if he never wanted to let me go which was fine by me because I never wanted him to let me go. Being in his arms felt right and I never wanted to be held in another mans arms.

Dutch moved backwards slowly, guiding me with him. Everything felt so right. I could feel his chest pressed against mine and my right hand was gripping his shoulder with such desperation, I’m sure Dutch could feel my nails digging in.

My gaze remained on his and his gaze remained on me, both of us too afraid to look away from each other. It was as if we’d disappear if we looked away from each other.

Dutch’s gaze flickered fo my lips, and at that moment, I desperately wanted him to kiss me. I wanted him to make me his, I wanted to be his.

His head tilted in, as if he was going to kiss me and I wasn’t going to pull back. I wanted this just as much as he did. I wanted Dutch to kiss me, to call me his. I could feel his breath on my lips and we were so close our noses were almost touching. If I leant forward even the slightest, our lips would be pressed against each other.

The kiss was going to happen except Molly barged through the tent and saw Dutch and I. She saw me pressed completely towards Dutch and our heads tilted and close together.

I broke away from Dutch and removed myself from his embrace. Immediately a sense of longing filled me. A feeling of yearning for his embrace nagged at me and it would do anything to be in Dutch’s arms again.

Not thinking, I turned and ran out of the tent, not wanting to hear what Dutch nor Molly had to say. I just kept going until I finally made it to my tent and laid on the bed, attempting sleep.

I was afraid. I was afraid of the way I felt when I was with Dutch. I should hate him. He’s forbidding me from seeing my family and he’s keeping me here. I should feel nothing but repulsive when he touches me and I should be trying to escape as I’m thinking at this very moment; but I can’t. I don’t want to leave because when I’m with Dutch, my world is complete.

Maybe I was crazy but the simplicity of being with Dutch is what I yearned for. I didn’t have a struggle when I was with him, life was easy and simple. I wanted him and I knew I couldn’t have him.

He was with Molly.

A couple of days had passed since that night with Dutch. I had avoided both him and Molly, still not wanting to hear what they had to say. Not only that, I had no idea what to say to either of them. What would I even say to Molly? There was nothing to us? Clearly Dutch and I both wanted something that night whether it was just pure intimacy or each other. It wouldn’t make sense if it was just intimacy he craved, he had Molly for that. Right?

I was walking to a table to place my stew down when Molly stood in front of me and knocked my plate causing the hot stew to land on my chest and the food to cover me.

I gasped, not expecting Molly to do that or have food all over me and my clothes. It burned, the stew being fresh off the burner. I wanted to scream and flick the hot food off of my chest but I was also too proud to admit that I was in pain, especially to

Molly looked proud of herself for ruining my dress. She had a proud smirk on her face and she crossed her arms, pushing her bust out.

“What the hell!” I yelled out looking at Molly with an angry look on my face. Everyone in the camp looked our way to see what was happening.

Micah let out a little chuckle and made a remark, no doubt a disgusting one.

“That was for hanging out with Dutch, when you know he was mine.” She then turned away and started to walk away from me.

A flash of anger ran through me and I stormed towards the stew pot. I grabbed a bowl and grabbed a handful of stew with the spoon and placed it in the bowl before walking towards Molly O’Shea and dumping all on her.

She gasped in shock and yelled that it burned.

“Two can play this game Molly. Don’t fuck with me.” I then turned and started walking towards the river. I needed to get these clothes off of me.

I continued walking a few metres away from the camp, just to make sure that no one could see me. I didn’t want anyone to see me naked especially Micah. He was a creep.

When I thought I was clear, I started to undress. I then walking into the water, with my dress in hand. I needed to clean the stew off of the dress if I ever wanted to wear it again. I was limited in clothes and I needed this one to not be stained.

I stood in the freezing cold water trying to get the stain out, not even noticing that Dutch was slowly walking towards me. His steps were slow, him taking his time appreciating the view.

The water stood up to my waist so he would’ve been able to see my breasts and me struggling to get the stain out of my dress.

It wasn’t until I groaned and threw the dress towards the shore that I saw Dutch Van Der Linde standing there watching me. I gasped and covered my breasts although there was no point, he had already seen them.

Dutch stood there with a smirk on his face.

“Miss L/N, I didn’t realise you were so brass.” He grabbed his hat and placed it on the floor. He then took his jacket off, slowly undressing himself in front of me.

“Mr...Mr Van Der Linde, I-I wasn’t expecting you to follow me. I-I needed to clean my dress after –”

“After miss O’Shea threw your stew all over you. Yes I heard. I also heard that you threw stew over her. That was a very bad thing to do Miss L/N. You’re disturbing the peace around here,” Mr Van Der Linde said as he unbuttoned his cuff-links.

“I-I didn’t m-mean to. I was mad and...and I –”

“That’s enough talking Miss L/N, you need to be punished,” he cut me off once again. I gasped at his words. Punished? For sticking up for myself? How exactly is he planning on punishing me?

His shoes were off and his shirt was now unbuttoned, much like the night before. He was now pulling his belt out of the loop holes in his pants. He was staring at me as I watched him undress. Who knows what he was thinking at this point. All I know was that he was so darn attractive right now and I was excited to see what was going to happen.

I took a step back, gasping at the coldness of the water as it hit my nipples. Dutch noticed and smirked, pulling down his pants leaving him bare all for me. I started walking into the water, not even giving me a chance to bask in his naked glory.

He walked towards me and once he reached me he stood there, waiting for something to happen. Or perhaps that was me. We were just staring at each other, naked, with the water reaching my shoulders and his chest.

I don’t understand why he’s not doing anything. Was I not attractive enough? I don’t understand.

“Miss L/N, I must say, you are ravishing. I’m finding it quite hard to hold back.” I looked up in surprise. Hold back? What does me mean by that?

“What if I don’t want you to.” It was a bold move but I wanted to know what he would really do and what he’s really holding back.

He gave one last smirk. It was one last smirk before his lips were on mine and kissing me as if it was the last chance he would ever get to kiss my lips. The kiss was aggressive and fast but no doubt passionate. All of our emotions from the last couple of weeks towards each other were embodied in this kiss.

Dutch tilted his head to the left, allowing me to bring myself closer to him and for his arms to trail down my waist and grab at my ass. He squeezed his hands and I gasped in surprise, which allowed Dutch access to inside of my mouth. His tongue explored my mouth, learning every crevice within my mouth. I moaned and the intensity of the kiss. Never have I been kissed like this before.

Dutch’s lips detached from mine and his left hand came up and grabbed a fistful of my hair, yanking it down, causing my head to roll back. I winced at Dutch’s grip on my hair but all was forgotten once his lips attached to my neck.

They were slow kisses to start off but soon his patience was worn thin and he proceeded to sloppily kiss and suck at my neck before moving down and towards my breasts.

Dutch’s hands went down to the back of my thighs where he gripped them and pulled them up, wrapping my legs around Dutch’s waist. I could feel his length rub against my thigh and my stomach turned in anticipation.

I have never felt so hot and heavy for any man. Dutch is the only one who has brought these feelings upon me. I felt desire, a copious amount and it was only for him. I only wanted him. Every other man seemed like nothing in comparison to Dutch and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Dutch circled his tongue around my nipple, sucking at the skin and making lewd noises that I have only dreamed of hearing. I’ve dreamt about this moment for weeks on end, wanting Dutch to fuck me; hard.

“Dutch,” I moaned out, gripping his hair with my hand. I pulled him closer towards my breast. He nibbles before biting at my left breast and I gasped in pleasure and in pain, the mix feeling so good.

Dutch pulled away from my breast and looked at me. I was puffed out, wanting Dutch to desperately fuck me and show me how bad I was being. I wanted him to punish me and tell me I was a naughty girl. I wanted everything and I wanted it now.

He turned around, me still in his grip and he walked towards the shore before placing me - surprisingly softly - on the ground. He hovered over me, looking at my body which was still wrapped around his waist.

“Fuck you’re gorgeous,” he whispered to me before kissing me once again.

The kiss was still passionate and rough, exactly what you’d expect from Dutch Van Der Linde. He wasn’t a soft guy, he was a hard and tough man who brought nothing but dominance to the table.

His hand traveled down my body. His hand brushed past my stomach and I jerked due to reflexes until he finally placed his thumb on my clit. He placed pressure on it and sparks flew and travelled up my body. I let out a slight moan at the pleasure.

He pulled away and looked at my face, watching my face contort in pleasure as he slowly rubbed circles on my clit. He did this for what seemed like minutes but it was only a few seconds before pulling away.

“Do you like this Y/N?” His voice was incredibly deep, most probably due to the need he felt, much like I’m feeling at this moment. I needed more from him, I needed him inside of me.

He continued to circle my clit with his thumb gaining more moans from me. It was like I couldn’t control the noises that came from my mouth. They were dirty moans. The type of noises my parents would kill me for letting out.

“Answer my fucking question Y/N!” He raised his voice whilst rubbing my clit faster, causing more moans to escape my mouth. “I said do you like this?” He asked once more.

“Yes!” I called out, halfway through a moan. I wanted more, the teasing was getting too much. I wanted him to stop teasing me and actually do something.

Dutch said no more and moved the finger that was on my clit and travelled down to where I was needing him most. Dutch placed his finger at my entrance and slowly pushed it in. The intrusion made me gasp, bucking my hips forward to feel more of him. Once his finger was fully inside of me, he kept it there, not moving it at all.

“Please,” I begged whilst thrusting my hips up towards Dutch, wanting to feel his finger move in me. Dutch however would not move his finger at all, watching me with a smirk on his face as I looked at him pleadingly.

“What do you want me to do Y/N?” Dutch asked, moving the finger that was in me slightly but never retrieving his finger or attempting to move and make me feel good. It was as if he was waiting for me to tell him what I want.

“I want you to fuck be Dutch. Please,” Dutch pulled his finger out and plunged it back in, causing me to gasp in pleasure once again. “Fuck me,” I moaned out.

That was all it took for Dutch to pull his finger out and grip my legs, spreading them open. He looked at me with such a devious smirk that if I wasn’t so desperate for Dutch to fuck me, I would’ve gotten up and left my now.

Dutch without hesitation thrusted into me, giving me no time to adjust to his hard length which I have not even properly seen yet. It felt large and it left me breathless. It filled my walls up so perfectly and I just wanted him to move already. I wanted to cum so bad and I wanted him to mercilessly fuck me.

He sat there for a moment, looking at me to see how I was fairing. I wrapped my arms around his waist, bringing my arms back up to grip his shoulders. Dutch moved his head and placed it in the junction between my neck and shoulder.

Dutch pulled his hips back, causing his length to come out of my entrance before he slammed his length back in. I moaned loudly, loving the way that he managed to fill me so nicely.

“Faster,” I moaned out and Dutch grunted.

Dutch thrusted faster and harder causing my body to be thrusted upwards. My legs wrapped around his waist and I brought my nails down his back whilst moaning.

Dutch’s right hand travelled from my waist and moved towards, brushing over my breast and travelling up to my neck. He gripped my neck and gave a light squeeze. My breath gave way from the grip on my neck.

It all seemed too much. From the grip on my neck to the hard and fast thrusts that he was giving to me. I couldn’t make a noise, my mouth was open but nothing was coming out of my mouth. Dutch’s thrust kept moving my body, my breasts bouncing up and down. Dutch watched my body, enamoured by the way that my body was reacting to his movements.

“Yes Dutch!” I moaned out, not even caring that the camp may hear us from where we are situated. “Right there, please keep going, please!” I was practically begging, that was how much I wanted to cum, to unravel under Dutch’s touch.

Dutch grunted and brought his other hand to my clit. This caused me to jerk into Dutch’s grip allowing him more access to my neck. Dutch practically growled as he slammed his lips back onto mine once again. His tongue invaded my mouth, connecting with mine. However I could hardly kiss him back due to my moans of pleasure from Dutch’s thrusts. Dutch rubbed my clit in circles and I couldn’t control the jerks my body was making.

A familiar tingle in my stomach formed and a yearning for the upcoming orgasm filled me and it had me panting for more and jerking my body so that both Dutch’s and my hips were meeting together, allowing for his thrusts to hit deeper.

I could stop the moans as my orgasm was quickly approaching. It had me clutching onto Dutch and pulling him as close as I could possibly get him to me.

Dutch looked at me with a smirk (which he never removed).

“Are you going to cum sweetheart?” He asked and I nodded, throwing my head back in pleasure.

It was all too much to handle. The pleasure was flowing through me and I was shaking, it felt that good. From Dutch’s hard thrusts to the lack of oxygen from Dutch’s grip on my neck, I could almost feel the coil snap within me.

I brought my hand up to Dutch’s hand which was wrapped firmly around my neck. I placed my hand on top of his, appreciating the coolness of his rings on my hot skin. I then pulled it at an attempt to let sit back into my lungs as I felt I was going to pass out at any point.

The water from the river hit our legs, the tide coming closer to shore as the day progressed to night. I rubbed my right leg up and down his leg as he thrusted himself into me.

I would never forget the feeling that I was feeling at this moment. I never wanted it to end, it felt so good. I just wanted Dutch to fuck me forever, I could get used to the way that Dutch fills me up so nicely.

The coil that was holding me together was just about to snap, I could feel it. It would only take a couple more thrusts before I would cum on Dutch’s dick.

“I’m going to cum! Dutch, yes, oh my god, I’m going to cum. Please Dutch, faster!” I moaned out, no longer holding back as I was desperate to cum.

“C’mon Y/N, come for me. You know you want to,” the smirk was evident in his voice but god I did want to cum. I wanted to cum so bad, I would do anything at this point.

One last thrust was all it took before the coil snapped and I was cumming around Dutch’s dick, hard. I screamed in pleasure as the pressure finally overwhelmed me. I gripped Dutch hard and clenched around him, causing Dutch to groan in pleasure.

My head was thrown back and my eyes (although were already shut) were squeezed shut and I could bet that Dutch’s back would be scratched to pieces due to my nails gliding down his back.

It only took a couple of more thrusts and Dutch was cumming in me, his cum filling me to the brim. I moaned at the feeling of his cum painting my walls whilst he was still buried in me.

Dutch let out a quiet, “fuck”, letting me know he enjoyed this just as much as I did.

We sat there for a while, trying to regain our breathing. We were panting crazily, both our stamina depleted from the dirty act we had just completed.

“I hope you have learnt your lesson Miss L/N.” Was all Dutch said before he pulled himself out and stood up, giving me a once over before grabbing his clothes.

Without even sparing me a glance he put his clothes on. During this time, I frowned, wondering why he was acting so cold. Usually the people I’ve been with showed some sort of aftercare whether it was one last kiss, cleaning me up or even giving me some cuddles before leaving. Dutch however gave me nothing. He just left me in the sand and put his clothes on.

With one last glance he walked off in the direction of the camp, leaving me, extremely naked and extremely embarrassed that all of this had just happened the way that it just did.

Over the next couple of days, Dutch hasn’t talked to me. He refused to even look in my direction. It was like nothing had happened between us whatsoever and it felt like the hospitality that I should’ve received when I first came here.

I felt used and abused.

Now that he had gotten his way with me, he wanted nothing to do with me. Like there was nothing else he wanted from me. He didn’t even want to talk to me.

The worst part of it all was that Molly O’Shea loved this.

Molly would sit there and smirk at me whilst she clung onto him like he was going to disappear at any moment. It annoyed me to no end that she had to throw it out there to me constantly that ‘Dutch was hers’ or that ‘I was never woman enough for Dutch’.

So I did what I only thought was possible.

I decided to leave the camp. They couldn’t keep me here anymore. Especially since the leader Mr Dutch Van Der Linde didn’t want even acknowledge me as a part of the gang, so I’m sure they wouldn’t mind me leaving.

I made sure to do it at the middle of the night. There would only be one man on patrol duty and that was Javier. Javier had no idea that I was going to escape, just like the rest of them.

That was because I didn’t escape from the front road where the gang usually rode in. No, I escaped via the woods. I ran through the woods until I eventually made it back to the road that lead to Rhodes. It was from there that I managed to hitch a ride from a lovely stranger with the name Hewitt and he drove me back to the farm on his carriage.

When I arrived back to the farm I had no idea what I was going to see. The feelings I felt had never caused me to vomit from shock, pain, anger and grief all at once. The breath in my lungs was no longer there and I struggled to breathe.

What was before me was my house on fire and in front of me, was Dutch, holding a gun to my fathers head.

I had no idea how they managed to become one step ahead. I hadn’t said anything about it and I had never made any plans until tonight to even leave so how the hell did Dutch know that I was going to leave the gang and how the hell did he get here before I did?

Dutch turned to look at me with a smirk on his face. He didn’t say anything, he just looked back at my father who was on his knees and looking at me with an apologetic look on his face.

It was then that Dutch pulled the trigger, killing my father.

I watched as my fathers life flashed before his eyes before his life faded right in front of me and he fell to the floor, a bullet in the middle of his forehead, blood pouring everywhere.

Dutch then turned to me and chuckled. It was a deep chuckle that truly showed how evil he was. He killed my father and my sister was no where to be seen; presumably dead. It was all because of him.

“Miss L/N, did you really think you’d be able to escape from me?” Dutch then walked forward and raised his gun, placing it to my head. “No one escapes from the Van Der Linde gang.”

It was then that he pulled the trigger and all I saw was black.

Hello everyone!

I hope you all enjoy reading this long and extremely unedited imagine which I went way overboard with. But hey, the anon wanted rough, I went there on all levels.

Anyway, thank you for the reads and I will see you next Tuesday maybe.

- REDDEADINMYBED

[bingeeatingihatefoodruinedmylife]

I wanna talk about the emptiness inside me that I tired to swallow, the black hole that started my downfall into the pits of eating and mood disorders.

1- My dad isn’t my father.

2-I don’t know if god exists.

These are the two things that are the bane of all the shit in my life.

My parents divorced when I was 3 and my mom and I and my sister lived with my grandparents and my messed up uncle. We were dirt poor (now we’re just poor thank god lol) so my childhood was sad mostly with an absent father who would show up once every many months to abuse me emotionally and give me abandonment issues. I’m sad to say I will never know what it’s like to have a father. He is trying to make it up to me now but only mildly. But I’m 22. His presence and support were needed when I was little and my teachers were telling him that I was very bright and that I should go to a better school, or when people told him I am a great artist and that he should buy me art supplies to hone my skills. He never even got me A4 papers. Now I’m burned out and bitter. I know I had insane potential but he only ever gave me issues and made my life more difficult that surviving was more important that any imaginary “potential”. And now I see people who were not as half as good as I was and they got the support and attention of their parents and have got far in life. My mother was a good parent growing up but the poor woman could not be blamed for not signing me up in fancy schools or drawing classes or whatnot because she was too busy being a single parent of two children working all sorts of jobs because the alimony is worth 250 dollars. What a joke. I’m broke now and I got through 250 in a week if I’m careful. What man would let his children go through poverty when he’s very wealthy. I love him and I understand that he has his issues to but I will never forgive him for what I had to go through. At 15 no one wanted me thats when my ED started. My mom was working in another city and she didn’t want me to live with her anymore. She send me back to my grandparents house where my uncle pulled a butchers knife on me. Who pulls a butchers knife on a 15 year old child ? My aunt instead of defending me gave me a talking to and told me to not tell my mom. I couldn’t believe my ears but I still didn’t tell my mom. Then I moved in with that aunt because I couldn’t stay in that house. But because my mother had body shamed me so much ( I was going through puberty and started to grow the tiniest little boobs and the tiniest little hips) and my other aunt who was pregnant the year before and had to also live with my grandmother as well as her husband and children would shame for whatever I ate. Soon her children followed suit. I was the tiniest boniest little thing but she shamed me nonetheless because food costs money I guess. At that time the only thing I snacked on were apples because I loved them so much and we again we were poor so we didn’t have delicious snacks lying around so apples were the only sweet thing there. How much were 1-3 apples a day gonna cost you ? Cheap yellow apples.. I could never do that to a 13 year old or anyone for that matter .

Does god exist ?

Are you there ?

Do you see me ?

Why am I here ?

Am I doing good ?

Am I not doing good ?

What’s the point of it all ?

If you’re god and you control everything did I do something to you to offend you ? Cause my life feels like a maze and I’m a rat and the maze is also a wheel and I’m just running but I’m still in my place. Im not even moving in the maze. If you wrote my life why isn’t it making any lyrical sense ?

Can you talk to me ?

Can you lend me a hand ?

Because I haven’t felt like the main character in my life for four years now… that’s a lot for someone to not fell like the MC in their OWN life.

So I was raised Muslim and questioning the existence of god in the Muslim community is a big no no. When I was a kid at least I knew for was there and if someone bullied me or did me wrong they were gonna get what’s coming for them sooner or later. But people who have wronged me so badly are thriving so what if this is it ? Also all the injustice in the world the racism sexism sex trafficking slavery that still exists countries that bully other counties and leaders that sell their own people. Sadly third world countries are enough to make you doubt gods existence. I just don’t want to be duped. Also what is up with the homophobia ? Religion to me seems like a big pretext for sick people to beat kill rape others. And this whole holier than thou attitude religious people have is such a peeve. So god, are you there ? Do you love me ? Or are you mad that my faith is weak and this depression and eating disorders are your way of getting back at me ? Because which are you ? Are you living and merciful ? Or are you scary and dishonoring sub-doing ? Because if someone told me they love me and were kind to me but at the same time messed my life behind the scenes and when I confronted them they said oh I’m punishing you because I live you and I want you to get closer to me I would just call them toxic and be like why the f ??? I’m not gonna lie the idea of being an atheist is so tempting but my brain can’t Handle the possibility of a god not existing because whenever I’m in trouble I go inwards and I talk to him god allah the universe u know I just know someone is listening and you wanna tell me it’s just me talking to myself ? Ouch And what is up with everyone assigning god the male gender ? That’s some sexist stuff right there. Also aren’t divinities supposed to transcend the concept of gender and genitalia ?? The religious inside me is freaking out right now over everything I wrote and I’m scared god would strike me or something over what I’m saying but I’m also tempted by the possibility of god just up there like good girl don’t trust what those misogynistic men have twisted religion into. Good on you for using the brain I GAVE you ! And he’s be like of course I love you I love the women I live the in between I love the gays I made you ! Of course I love you even the most broken ones are so beautiful to me. So If you were real how do I not make you mad at me cause I don’t want to piss off the all encompassing all knowing obviously do you see gif how so much of religion is fear. I don’t get it. So how do I do it without going crazy ? Also I’d you didn’t know us Muslims aren’t a allowed to leave the religion then go back etc like I see a lot of white people try everything out there and it’s just like isn’t that what we should do not be raised in a certain religious but like sample everything then decide based on how we are like some exchange program or as simple as a buzzfeed quiz. Because I didn’t choose this so It’s not an informed decision. Wondering if god exists probably stems from my fear of dying. Like everyone on this planet I don’t know when or where that’ll be so I have some unexplained anxieties. So I wonder what’s gonna happen after I bite the dust. It’s like sitting in the waiting room of a dentist you’re scared shitless you see people go in and you try to distract yourself you read some magazines or mess around in your phone etc. You know you avoided the call to the dentists office as much as you could but it was inevitable. Idk what I’m saying. Anyways so I’m sad because I’m unfocused in life school career like the driven overachieved millionaires Elon musks Angelina Jolies and Oprah’s out there so I’m not successful but when I try to focus I can’t because I’m reminded it’s only a few years and blinks until it’s my turn to go into the dentist office so what’s the point and a big majority of my life had been shot so far so..