#I don't even know man this one just kind of happened--I found the Dutch version of 'Abide With Me' on YouTube

[theimpossiblescheme]

Swaddled in his coat, the thick fur collar wreathed around her head and her arm pulled into the long, heavy sleeves, Mina looks so like a child.  Knees pulled up to her chest as she lay on her side by the fire, visibly trying not to toss and turn against the rough ground.  No lines on her face save for the burn on her forehead, but the light of the fire throws the shadows under her eye into sharp relief, and her features are pinched into the sort of fear that pierces an old man’s heart.  The sort of fear he’d hoped to spare her.  It is hard to reconcile the calm, graceful, divinely patient, and devilishly clever woman she’d been before, all racing mind and sweet words, with this lost creature laying at his side.  It feels too cruel a reversal, to try and offer her comfort now when she had given it so freely only days before.

But Abraham has already failed her dearest friend, and sweet Lucy’s death still casts a pall over the whole company, even for all his efforts.  He will redouble them for Mina’s sake.  It is enough to know he might never see John or the brave Arthur again… a third loss may be his undoing.  It is all he can do to keep from imagining his own long-loved, long-lost faces in their place.

He stays silent as he pulls another wrap of furs from the wagon about his shoulders and straightens where he sits, signaling his intent to stay up and keep watch.  Mina’s head moves in what’s almost a nod before lolling heavily aside, just inches from him.  Tempting as it is to haul her into his lap as he would a small girl or run a hand over her unbound dark curls, Abraham abstains.  He will not touch her if she does not wish it–her cries upon having the wafer pressed to her skin still ring in his ears.  As do the resolute declarations of love and soothing hums from her husband shortly thereafter as he held her.  What would their Jonathan think to see her now, he wonders… and quickly resolves that it must not be so.  He will not leave her side tonight, and he shall return Mina to him as she was–bright and lovely, her energy and light restored.

This new oath is a balm, if only a slight one, to such an aching, weary old breast as his, and for the first time in hours he lifts his voice, hoarse with disuse, but gentle enough that only she can hear…

“’k Heb U altijd van noode, dag en nacht, slechts uw genâ verwint des boozen macht. Wie kan als gij mijn gids en sterkte zijn? Blijf bij mij, Heer, in nacht en zonneschijn!”

[bobasheebaby]

100 New Girl Prompts

So many prompts, most of which are funny. Break at 15 cause it’s mega long.

1 "I'm using my bride/groom card!" — Cece

2 “Can we just take a minute to celebrate me?" — Schmidt

3 “So many emotions." — Nick

4 “I'm totaling my assets. It's really bleak." — Jess

5 “Look at those horny horny hippos.” — Nick

6 “I got mozzarella sticks for fingers." — Nick

7 “Every moment you're on this Earth is a moment I know where you are." — Nick

8 “It is my Secret Santa alias." — Winston

9 “Friend face." — Winston

10 “It's perfectly fine to watch TV all day." — Nick

11 “If I were off my rocker, would I take a weekly selfie with my cat?" — Winston

12 “I can't find my driving moccasins anywhere." — Schmidt

13 “Believe it or not, that's not the first time someone's broken my feeling stick. I have a travel size." — Jess

14 “Put on some pants, or at least some really high socks." — Jess

15 “You like me? You like my personality?" “I was surprised, too.” — Schmidt & Cece

16 "I just wanted to listen to Taylor Swift alone!" — Jess

17 “That's like the president and the vice president not being best friends." — Winston

18 “I'll take the strongest drink you have, and also a wine spritzer on the side in case I don't like it." — Jess

19 “You have the right...to remain hugged." — Coach

20 “If you are for one second suggesting that I don't know how to open a musical, how dare you!" — Schmidt

21 “I was sabotaged by my baby box." — Jess

22 “We are literally the most embarrassing people on the planet." — Jess

23 "It's a weird life, but it's where I'm at right now." — Nick

24 "You gave me a cookie, I gave you a cookie." — Nick

25 “Go put a dollar in the jar right now." — Coach

26 “This is my jam." — Coach

27 “Saturday is a day for sleeping, and damn it, you will not take that away from me!" — Winston

28 “Are we eating or are we not eating?" — Winston

29 "Eating cookies and avoiding confrontation." — Jess

30 “Because it's a great story, and I'm a teller of stories." — Nick

31 “I like being weird." — Jess

32 "This is the worst thing to ever happen to me. I've lived a very fortunate life!" — Jess

33 "I don't like it. It's too much responsibility." — Nick

34 “Are you cooking a frittata in a sauce pan? What is this – prison?” — Schmidt

35 “I hate your mustache because I miss your upper lip.” — Schmidt

36 “He’s/She's got that giant heart that's part compass and part flashlight and he’s/she's just the greatest person I have ever met.” — Nick

37 “Who's that guy/girl? It's NAME." — Jess

38 “Watch your front because we've got your back!” — Cece

39 “Picking lint off of a man's/woman’s sleeve is the most intimate gesture.” — Cece

40 “Blast from the past, how's that ass?” — Jess

41 “I hate this. I just wanna sit around and do nothing, but that is not hot.” “That's hot to me. You add some sweatpants to that and that is better than porn.” — Kai & Nick

42 “Look at that font! What is this? Amateur hour? At least use Palatino.” — Nick

43 “I’m like a sexual snowflake. Each night with me is like a unique experience.” — Schmidt

44 “Where have you been? I am having a major life crisis, and you guys are, what, just driving around, French kissing each other like a couple of Dutch hookers?” — Schmidt

45 “No sig oths.” “Just say ‘significant others.” “Maybe you have that kind of time, but I’m on a tight sched.” — Schmidt & Cece

46 “I know this isn’t gonna end well, but the whole middle part is going to be awesome.” — Nick

47 “NAME, you’ve been staring at this guy/girl for 5 minutes. Please tell me you’re checking him/her out, otherwise you’re a serial killer. Which would explain a lot.” — Schmidt

48 “This is a horrible neighborhood. There are youths everywhere!” — Schmidt

49 “Guess whose personalized condoms just arrived!” — Schmidt

50 “I’m really gonna need you to step it up tonight, okay? When I see you, I wanna be thinking, ‘Who let the dirty slut out of the slut house?’” — Schmidt

51 “Can someone please get my towel? It’s in my room next to my Irish walking cape!” — Schmidt

52 “Have you seen my sharkskin laptop sleeve?” — Schmidt

53 “Don’t pretend to know my pain.” — Schmidt

54 “Do I regret it? Yes. Would I do it again? Probably.” — Nick

55 “I don't know what I'm doing emotionally or -- let's be honest -- sexually.” — Jess

56 “What if I have some idea of love in my head and it’s just totally wrong?” — Jess

57 “Life sucks. And then it gets better. And then it sucks again.” — Nick

58 “I like getting older, I feel like I’m aging into my personality.” — Nick

59 “You know, sometimes I feel like I’ve never really felt love.” — Winston

60 “When you care about somebody you do what's best for them even if it sucks for you.” — Schmidt

61 “Old people freak me out. With their hands and their legs. They’re like the people version of pleated pants.” — Schmidt

62 “I’m gonna have to run all the way home, and I have my slipperiest loafers on.” — Schmidt

63 “Downstairs neighbour put a password on their wi-fi.” — Nick

64 “You were denied a cell phone because you have the credit score of a homeless ghost.” — Schmidt

65 “I’m only attracted to guys/girls who are afraid of success and think someone famous stole their idea.” — Jess

66 “This place is fancy and I don’t know which fork to kill myself with.” — Nick

67 “Without sex, he’s/she’s not your boyfriend/girlfriend. Okay? He’s/She’s a friend you buy meals for.” — Schmidt

68 “I feel like I wanna murder someone. And also, I want soft pretzels.” — Jess

69 “So when I do the chicken dance, I do it a little differently. Instead of doing claps, I like to do a peck. It’s more realistic.” — Jess

70 “NAME doesn’t have a life plan. He/She doesn’t have a day plan. I once found a note that he/she wrote to himself that said, ‘Put on pants.'” — Jess

71 “I don’t want to kiss and tell, but I ruined my dresser during intercourse. Will you go to Ikea with me?” — Jess

72 “Can I get an alcohol?” — Nick

73 “I want to kill you, because I respect you. NAME! I think I understand hunting!” — Nick

74 “Look, we’re not trying to be mean. We just don’t want you to be yourself… in any way.”

75 “I have decided to give up on men/women and put all of that energy into tomatoes.”

76 “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? No, a summer’s day is not a bitch!” — Nick

77 “I only wanna make a drink a coal miner would want. Straight forward. Honest. Something that says, ‘I work in a hole.'” — Nick

78 “I’m not convinced I know how to read, I’ve just memorized a lot of words.” — Nick

79 “I like chipmunks more than squirrels.” — Nick

80 “I can’t believe I’m the sober one. That’s actually never happened before in my life.” — Nick

81 “Beans are nothing but soggy nuts.” — Schmidt

82 “Can I interest you in some white noise?” — Winston

83 “Those are pickles in progress.” — Winston

84 “Who’s talking to you, Depression-era garbage man?” — Coach

85 “I need everyone to shut up.” — Coach

86 “Your asses belong to me now.” — Coach

87 “That’s what’s up, that’s what’s up. No doubt. Diggity.” — Coach

88 “I hate when Schmidt cries. He sounds like a ghost singing ‘Hey Ya.'” — Coach

89 “I’ve made out with half of the guys/girls in this room.” — Cece

90 “You always see the worst in people.” “Yeah, because people are the worst.” — Jess & Nick

91 “I’m sorry we’re not going this weekend.” “But It’s free.” “Did you say free?” “Yeah.” “We’re 100% in. I’ll go pack now.” — Nick & Jes

92 “I’m going to end up alone. I’m going to be a single old man/lady flashing people on the subway.” — Jess

93 “I’ve got two perfectly good forks on the end of my arms.” — Nick

94 “If we needed to talk about feelings they would be called talkings.” — Nick

95 “When you question my pajamas, you make me question our entire friendship!” — Jess

96 “Why can’t I have the things that I want?!” — Schmidt

97 “Bathtubs are medieval filth cauldrons.” — Schmidt

98 “They don’t hate me because I’m old. They hate me because of my personality.” — Schmidt

99 “It’s like you’re ripping the side block out of my mental Jenga.” — Schmidt

100 “I’m not actually quite sure how to stop this.” — Schmidt

[dreamdaddydutch]

Sorry to make a request while you seem so busy with life and other writing but I had an idea that I couldn't get out of my head. Would you be willing to write some Dutch smut where he's wearing that lawman uniform and realizes that his s/o is really into it but is too shy and flustered to admit it so he takes matters into his own hands? I just need some indulgent daddy Dutch lol. If you don't feel like writing this it's totally cool and thanks for all of your other work ❤️

I apologise that this took me a literal age to write, but I really loved writing it and loved the idea so thank you! I’ve written this where Dutch and his s/o haven’t had sex yet, but have been kissing etc. I was originally writing this as gender neutral but got carried away so this is written for a fem! reader as you didn’t specify. But I’m planning on writing a version for male readers too. 

Warnings: Smut so 18+ - squirting  I  Word Count: 3,721 

Tight blue trousers, polished gold buttons, those lapels and that hat. Every part of the uniform drew you in. It wasn’t something you’d ever thought about or considered before, why would it have been? Living an outlaw life, you were hardly going to fraternise with the enemy. But Dutch? When Dutch wore the uniform, you discovered a need you didn’t even know you had.

You’d been busy chopping wood when Dutch, Arthur and Sadie rode back into camp, you’d always thought Dutch looked rather handsome and commanding when riding the Count. But now, you saw him in different light. The two of you had been exclusive for a short while, though with everything that had been happening you hadn’t even slept together yet. You slept by one another’s side, that was, when Dutch slept… You kissed, sometimes passionately, but sex just hadn’t been a pressing issue which was kind of nice. 

As you watched them ride you hadn’t realised that you’d stopped still, or that your mouth was open just a jar, agape at the sight, until Arthur placed a hand on your chin to close it.

Tight blue trousers, polished gold buttons, those lapels – that satisfied expression on his face from a job well done.

You jumped at the touch and felt your cheeks grow red, you heard Arthur chuckle as you continued with your chore. Try as you might to avoid looking up at Dutch, you couldn’t help but steal the odd glance at him. And for a brief moment, after hitching the Count, he caught your eye and smiled.

Immediately you placed the axe back and walked off to join Tilly who was helping to prepare dinner. You had a feeling there would be a celebration tonight and felt in great need of a drink, but first some cold water to cool you down. Of course you didn’t need to shy away from Dutch or any affections for him, but where everything was so new and others were likely to tease, you tried to play it cool. Which of course never works. 

Dutch gathered the remaining members of the gang round the campfire, it was nice to see him happy for once. But to be honest you didn’t hear a word he said, you were too busy staring at him, at the way the uniform clung to his figure, how snug the pants were on his ass and delicious the bulge between his legs looked. You found yourself swallowing hard after realising how incredibly dry your mouth had become. Between your legs you knew you were wet just from looking at him, how sturdy he seemed, how large his hands were and oh how good he looked when he had the attention of the others.

When Dutch finished speaking and the others went about handing out drinks and starting the celebrations, you followed him into his tent. You made sure to give it a few minutes so that the others didn’t see you as desperate for attention, but nothing could have prepared you for what you saw when you entered your tent. 

You witnessed Dutch, still in the lawman’s uniform, chest puffed out, strutting around a little. You stifled the giggle that was building. Dutch often commented on how stealthy you were when you moved around, footsteps light on the ground, as quiet as a mouse he would say. This was one of those moments, it was only for a few seconds but you managed to lean against the tent pole and watch him for a moment. 

When Dutch turned, he didn’t appear embarrassed at all, in fact quite the opposite. He raised his eyebrows at you, “Enjoying the show?” The asked. 

Those lapels, the polished boots, white gloves and that hat.

Dutch noticed the way you had looked at him from across the camp, the way your hand had travelled to your thighs without you even noticing. Legs clenched, teeth biting lip, the tension you carried and oh the way you trembled as he had brushed past you on the way to the tent. 

“Like what you see?” He mocked as you stared at him.

“I…erm,” you stumbled over your words and promptly turned on your heels and exited his tent crashing into Javier as you went. 

“You alright there ‘….’?”  Javier asked.

You jumped, not expecting anyone to be stood so close to the entrance of the tent, “Yes, fine, why?” You answered, but you knew the words you spoke rolled off your tongue far too quickly and more likely sounded like you said, “yeney?” and were talking gibberish.

Javier stared blankly at you confirming the fears that you had been talking gibberish.

“It’s nothing Javier, thank you.”

“Want a drink?”

You sighed and nodded, Javier was honestly one of the best listeners in camp so you followed him a little way outside the camp, beer in hand.  

When the two of you were sat down you opened up to him, telling him things you didn’t think you’d confess to anyone in the gang. 

That night you joined the others, drinking and celebrating, though deep down you weren’t entirely sure what you were celebrating. With so many of the gang members gone and tensions running high it seemed almost foolish to act this happy. But you couldn’t bare to pull everyone out of their good moods, so joined in, impervious to the real issues at hand for one night. 

Dutch, now in his usual attire, had pulled you into his arms to dance with him. Staring up into his wide eyes you could almost forget where you were and what, as a gang you had been through. 

Dutch’s eyes were on you the following day as you moved around the camp. Several times he’d brushed past you and kissed you softly on the cheek, definitely being more hands on than usual.

He handed you the lawman’s uniform, “This needs washing, if you would be so kind.”

You waited until no one before you buried your nose into the pile of clothes and inhaled his scent. You didn’t realise, but Dutch had been watching you. His hand not so subtly went down to his crotch and gently squeezed.

You let out an inaudible moan, and shuddered, Dutch noticed and smirked before turning away.

What was worse was as you were cleaning his undergarments you  spotted a rather large strain and were certain that you knew exactly what it was. 

It should have disgusted you, but instead it didn’t, it only served to aid in the pooling between your legs. Dutch had chosen to give you the uniform on purpose, he knew you’d see the stain. Your hands trembled so much that the water splashed a little over the side.

You cursed yourself and your inability to tell him how you felt and that you were ready for him, especially in the uniform. But how did one approach that as a topic? 

Dutch’s fingertips grazed your knuckles as he went to reach for  the bottle that was next you. Instantly you froze, muscles ceasing to respond to what you wanted to do.

No words were needed.

Arthur tapped you on the shoulder, you’d been too busy swaying gently to Javier’s guitar and enjoying the stillness of the evening to notice how much time had passed.

“Hey, Dutch wanted to know if he could speak with you.”

You nodded, trembling a little as you stood, Dutch had never asked to speak with you alone at night before.

When you entered the tent you were greeted by the sight of Dutch, sat on your cot, booted feet firmly on the ground. He was wearing the lawman’s uniform, hat and all. 

Shit. What is happening?

He looked at you coyly, eyes dark and mischievous, “I asked you a question the other day, but you declined to answer.”

You could see where this was heading and you felt your stomach drop out from under you.

“Dutch…” you stuttered.

He sat up a little taller, placed his hands on his lap and practically purred, “Well? Do you? See something you like I mean?” He raised an eyebrow.

“I…”

“How about you show me.”

“Dutch,” your voice was breathy, and quiet. 

“No need to be afraid, if this is what you want, then come, take it. Of course, my dear if I have misread the situation you are free to leave. I just thought, we have such a good time kissing do we not?”

“No,” you spoke a little too quickly, “I mean yes, yes we do and no, you haven’t misread the situation, I…” you held onto the tent pole, your legs were trembling like crazy. 

Dutch chuckled, “Just as I thought, come here,” he patted his lap.

You walked over to him, trying to be sultry but guessed you looked more like a lost baby bird than anything, all knobbly knees.

As you slid down onto his lap you inhaled sharply and closed your eyes for a moment, on opening them you became acutely aware of just how close your face was to his.

“Hello dear, you like a man in uniform huh?”

You let out a strangled mewl as his hand came up to cup the back of your head. His lips were so warm against your own and softer than you’d imagined they would be. 

The kiss was tender but it was also full of yearning, there was something in it that told you he needed this as much as you did. 

You begun to rock your hips in earnest while Dutch’s hands gripped your waist tightly. Although you were doing all the hard work, he helped to guide and rock you. 

His eyes keenly watching the expression on your face as you begun to work yourself up with the friction.

“Rock those hips a little faster baby,” he commanded.

You obliged, your eyebrows knitted as you keenly increased the pace. The fabric of your undergarments now rubbing so sweetly against your most sensitive spot, but it wasn’t enough. How you had longed for this, longed to be close to Dutch and have him inside you. Now it seemed so close you didn’t want to finish like this.

“Good girl,” Dutch praised before pressing a kiss to your lips. 

Your hands went for the back of his head so you could push him closer into you, for a moment Dutch kissed you roughly, his tongue slipping through your lips so your tongues were twisted. You stopped rocking your body for a moment to enjoy the feel of the kiss and the warmth of his mouth. 

But the moment you stopped, Dutch snapped away, “Did I say stop?”

You let out a whinge, it’s long and full of weeks of pent up frustration and so of course it makes Dutch smirk.

“You just gotta work a little harder for me and then I’ll let you have what you want.”

You nodded, bit your lip and begun to roll your hips again, as the friction built once more you became acutely aware of the bulge growing in Dutch’s pants. Every time you rocked forwards you felt it against you something sparked inside, small trembles. At this point you were certain that you were getting wet, you could practically feel your own slickness on the inside of your thighs as you rocked as Dutch commanded. 

When he was satisfied he held your hips even tighter so you were barely able to rock against him, you stopped moving and looked up at him. The dark expression he wore told you that you’d done a good job. 

Dutch, all authority and no hesitation told you exactly what to do, “Stand up.”

You followed his order and stood in front of him, arms awkwardly down at your sides as you wondered what he was going to ask you to do next. He took a step forward so your chests were flush, he tilted his head and went in for your neck. His breaths tickled but before you had a chance to giggle his lips were on your skin, teeth following a moment later, nipping and finding your pulse. You squeezed your thighs and took a sharp intake of breath. Dutch’s hands snaked round you, taking your ass cheeks in both hands and squeezing them as he continued to suck your pulse. 

When he pulled away he was a little red faced but the bulge that now appeared to be almost painfully pushed against his pants told you how much he was enjoying this. 

Dutch undressed you slowly, his fingers working slowly at lace and buttons. He undressed you in a fashion which made you nearly cry out with frustration. His fingertips grazed your skin every time a new part of flesh was exposed for him. When you were completely naked he looked you up and down and smirked. 

“Lay down.”

You obeyed, walking over to the cot, your legs trembling as you did so. The night air was cold but you were certain that soon Dutch would have warmed you up. He stood at the side of the bed and admired your naked form. 

“Oh this was worth waiting for.” 

Your arms were up on the pillow behind you, your body was stretched out so you could feel everything. The cold air had made your nipples rock hard and Dutch just licked his lips while looking down on you. 

Dutch decided to continue to wear the uniform, the whole thing, even the boots and the gloves. That was enough to make you melt. 

But the hat, the hat he gave to you, placing it on your head, “Now you have to make sure that hat doesn’t leave your pretty head, is that clear?”

You gulped and nodded, “Yes Sir.”

“If at any point you lose the hat, it’s game over, you don’t get to cum.”

You nodded, “I understand,” your body arched for him before he’d even touched you, desperate for his touch. 

He stroked your hair and placed a kiss to your forehead, “Good girl.”

His fingers brushed over your breasts, so lightly he could have been stroking you with a feather. When he reached your nipples he drew small circles round them and then after a few moments pinched one between his thumb and forefinger whilst bending down and taking the other between his lips.

“Ahhh,” you moaned as he starting to suck your nipple and then bit gently on it, his tongue continuing to swirl round the peak as he did so. Your hands gripped the bedsheets as he did this, if his tongue felt this good on your nipple, god knows how good it was going to feel when he got lower down. 

He broke away without warning and left a trail of wet and messy kisses down your stomach and onto your thighs. Dutch knelt on the cot between your legs and opened them, you felt yourself blush as he stared at you. 

“Already so wet, my filthy girl.”

He massaged your thighs with his gloved hands for a moment, his thumbs ever circling closer to your wetness. You tried hard to breath normally, but he was making it impossible, your heart was beating so furiously against your chest. 

Dutch bent down and breathed out between your legs, the hot air and sensation making you squirm. He inhaled your sent and then without warning he dove between your legs, making you cry out.

It was a little sloppy at first. But he was keen, and once he realised what you wanted it improved. As you looked at him keenly working your hands went to his shoulders and squeezed, and a moment later your hands were in his curly hair pulling gently. As he continued to lick and suck, your hips bucked.

“Need you….” you panted.

“Hmmm,” Dutch smirked as he looked up from between your legs, his lips glistened with your juices. He licked them hungrily and then went back to work.

“Dutch,” you moaned as you squirmed under him, on the one hand you didn’t want this to end, on the other hand you needed him inside you now or you felt you might cry. 

His tongue slipped between your walls and you cried out as his thumb rubbed your clit softly simultaneously. 

“Fuck, fuck…” all you could do was repeat obscenities as he continued to bring you closer to orgasm. 

His tongue moved in and out of you at a great pace, which his thumb now met. You lifted up your ass a little, allowing him to put his free hand under you and squeeze one of your cheeks roughly. How you had longed for the feeling of his fingernails digging into your flesh, he gripped tighter making you cry out, your hips once again bucking for more contact and friction. 

Dutch looked up again, “I want you to come for me, do you hear?”

You nodded, panting you found yourself unable to form a coherent sentence. Dutch went back to flicking your clit with his tongue as he plunged three fingers inside of you sheathing them completely. 

You threw your head back on the pillow, worried for a moment that the hat would fall off and he’d stop. 

Dutch continued to increase the pace and you knew your orgasm was close, your body was tensing up and your hands gripped tighter in his hair. You inhaled and held your breath, desperate to orgasm for him. 

It wasn’t just the orgasm that was building, the way he was pumping his fingers into you so roughly and fast you had a feeling you were about to make him very wet. But there was nothing you could do to stop it or warn him, you felt the wetness squirt from between your legs as you cried out his name several times as you came around his fingers. Your hips bucking furiously, hands white where you’d gripped the bed sheets so tightly. Dutch continued to pleasure you as your rode your orgasm, making you squirt a little more all over his fingers and face. When he finally finished you lay panting, only just releasing your grip on the sheets a little. You felt your own fluids drip down your thighs and onto the cot beneath. 

For a moment you were too embarrassed to look up and meet his eye line, but you knew you’d have to eventually. When you looked up Dutch was grinning from ear to ear, his face shining with your fluids. He licked his lips hungrily and then brought a gloved hand up to his mouth and sucked each of the fingers slowly. 

“My my, my dear I had no idea you could do that.”

You were still blushing as you responded, “I’ve only ever been able to do that to myself…”

Dutch looked incredibly proud of both himself and you, “You mean to tell me that masturbation is practically a past time for you, naughty girl.”

He spanked your cunt lightly, your teeth bit your lower lip as he did so. 

“You made such a mess of my clean uniform.”

“I’m sorry Dutch.”

“Nothing to be sorry for darling, you’ll just have to wash it again for me.”

Before you had a chance to answer Dutch went back between your legs, hungrily licking your thighs and your cunt making you squirm. It was clear he was trying to lap up every part of you, although you had worried it would be humiliating to squirt in front of him, you were relived that he enjoyed it as much as you.  

When he sat back up he climbed on top of you, one of his hands working at the fly of his pants. You saw his cock spring free a moment later and now found yourself the one licking their lips at the sight of it. He was rather large, perhaps a little larger than you’d expected and thick. His cock twitched quite frequently and you could make out a few thick veins on the underside, it was red and pre-cum was leaking from the tip making his head glisten. 

“Like what you see?”

You nodded, “Yes Dutch, I want you, I want you in that uniform inside me, fill me up please!” You begged.

Dutch chuckled and kissed your lips, “Seeing as you’ve been such a good, good girl.”

He slid inside you in one swift motion, he was so large that you cried his name out and gripped hold of his hips for leverage. Once fully sheathed he didn’t move for a moment, allowing you to get used to his size, he peppered your collarbone with kisses for those few precious seconds and then begun to thrust into you. 

He was slow but deep, allowing you to feel every throb of his cock and appreciate just how he felt inside of you. 

He continued with the same steady rhythm moving in and out of you. Every time he thrust in he would let out a little grunt that you could only describe as animalistic. You aimed to heighten his pleasure by raising your hips a little and rolling forwards every time he thrust into you. 

The first time you did this you clenched around him and Dutch let out a hiss of appreciation. 

The sex didn’t last long, within minutes Dutch begun to increase the pace along with his breaths and you knew he was close. You couldn’t take your eyes off him as he moved inside you, that blue uniform, those gloves, those gold buttons… Oh how you liked Dutch van der Linde in uniform.

“Y/N,” Dutch moaned as he came deep inside of you, his brows furrowed and eyes closed. He thrust a few times, quick but deep thrusts, slowly becoming more lazy as he rode his own orgasm.

His head was on your chest and he stayed inside you for a moment, when he finally looked up he brushed your cheek. “The sooner you clean it, the sooner we can do this again.” He smirked as he spoke but the smirk broke way to something else, something better. The smile he wore was one born of love and adoration. The way he rolled over to the side and pulled you into his arms and cradled you, told you all you needed to know. 

[squidproquoclarice]

I don't suppose you'd be willing to write that meta about Arthur growing into his role as Hosea's son through the game, would you?

Round 2, FIGHT (dings bell).   Here’s Part II of the Hosea+Arthur meta. 

NB:  Arthur for me will always be written and meta’d as High Honor/Help John Escape pathway unless I’m noting a specific difference between pathways (like with discussing Sadie’s High vs Low Honor dialogue at Hanging Dog), which I suspect is the interpretation most of us take anyway.  It’s probably the “canon” Arthur given that most post-game sequel media or novelizations for these kind of games with moral choice tend to establish the most honorable/optimal position as canon (i.e., Dishonored, Dishonored 2, Assassins Creed Odyssey, etc.) and honestly, it’s usually the one that makes the most sense with the hero’s journey anyway.  So actions, opinions, etc. that I discuss have and will tend towards that version.  Anyway, on with the show. All right, so we’re focusing mostly after Hosea’s unfortunate demise now.  But let’s briefly rewind to some camp dynamics from earlier.  Hosea is physically limited by his long-term pulmonary illness–not TB, that’s a little too on the nose.  Possibly lung cancer, but I suspect it’s some kind of chronic obstructive pulmonary disorder (COPD) from any number of factors, and maybe flared up into bronchitis to boot due to the stress and physical strain of the flight from Blackwater, especially up into the snows.  He’s struggling to breathe somewhat, but it’s not quite in dire straits.  He’s physically limited by this, and by his age (mid-50s), so he’s doing a few jobs, some fishing for the camp larder, but he can’t do out on rough and rugged jobs.  So Hosea’s become more of a camp caretaker, and Arthur’s extremely defensive of Hosea on that score of “he’s earned it” (whereas if you do Antagonize on Dutch, one of them is that he’ll point out that “we all see you and Hosea reading”, and that while Hosea has some reason, Dutch sitting on his ass reading books while telling everyone else to get out there and work looks bad.)  Look, you want Dutch for the rousing speeches, no question.  His Colter speech is pretty damn impressive.  But in between those occasional dramatic inspiratory moments, and very loud public validations from Dutch that are almost creepy in how over the top and cult-affirming they are, you notice it’s Hosea going around the camp doing the day-to-day small jobs, helping Susan keep things in line, helping teach people things, helping try to keep morale up, helping the effort of getting people to see what’s in store “ain’t nothing nice”.

You know who else is doing regular upkeep on camp morale?  Arthur.  He’s the workhorse out hunting, donating, doing chores, going around doing the Greet thing and checking in on people, playing games with them, fulfilling small item requests to make their lives a little easier and happier.  He’s definitely leaning far more toward Hosea’s path of quieter small regular acts and check-ins of showing love and concern rather than Dutch’s big flamboyant moments.You also notice Hosea and Dutch starting to argue repeatedly in Chapters 2-4, with Hosea urging caution, asking Dutch what the actual plan is here, and essentially trying his best to pull this wagon out of the cesspit, or at least let it sink more slowly.

Skip to Lakay at the end of Chapter 5, and Chapter 6.  Hosea’s dead, and with him, the last significant check on Dutch’s increasing paranoia and violence.  Arthur’s found out his TB diagnosis, and he’s profoundly disturbed by the things he saw Dutch do in Guarma, and things it’s making him look back on now.  He’s questioning a lot about what’s important, what kind of man he wants to be, and what he wants to do with the presumably limited time he has.  And he does his damndest to step into Hosea’s shoes.  This is a man who’s obeyed Dutch for his entire adolescence and adulthood, who holds him in a sort of fearful and reverential awe–Hosea might have been his father, but no question Dutch was his god.  Arthur in Chapter 1 would only tentatively question the plan to go hit the O’Driscolls with a quiet “You sure about this?  Folk been through a lot recently, we’re hardly back on our feet yet,” and then when Dutch challenges him with “I know you doubt me”, he anxiously has to reaffirm “I would never doubt you”.  In Lakay he really starts standing his ground.  Hard.  And you can tell this shocks Dutch, because he’s come to expect Arthur’s almost immediate deference, not snarky callouts about how he’s not concerned with figurative games of chess when actual lives are on the line.  It’s interesting and very telling to note that at that first firm challenge, Dutch’s instinctive response is to say, “You sound like Hosea.” And he does.   He’s increasingly choosing non-violence, to talk his way out of things rather than fight.  He’s become a skilled survivalist over the past months, much like Hosea was.  He’s slowly dying–much like Hosea was.  He’s making his peace with that. But he’s going to give the best of himself, and what strength he has, towards trying to keep people’s spirits up where he can, safeguarding their interests against Dutch’s high-flown pipe dreams by countering with a hard dose of reality, and getting who he can off this slow-moving trainwreck.

He keeps trying, over and over, to pull the reins on Dutch and talk some sense.  And the pity is that Dutch is too far gone, and the father/son dynamic, and Arthur’s belief in the best in the people he loves, is too ingrained for Arthur to just aggressively say “screw it” and overthrow Dutch, or for Dutch to be able to accept Arthur as a new Hosea, offering the pragmatic realism that made Dutch’s lofty ideals and ambitions work for two decades.  It’s never going to happen.  It deteriorates to the point of Dutch sneering at him with “Oh, Arthur needs to rest” and getting furious at “He insists” that the women and Jack be let go before this all goes completely to hell.  It’s telling at that point too that Arthur specifically cites “letting them go”, as if he’s finally realized that they are effectively captives in this cult.  Arthur’s there to stand up to Dutch, try to save lives, and avoid pointless bloodshed.  You sound like Hosea.  Damn right he does.  And I suspect in any situation where he survived, Arthur at 55 would likely resemble Hosea in demeanor even more, having made those choices.