#Van...These hit 🤬

[camdentown-library]

For the emoji/name thing what about 🤬 and Dutch?

𝕺𝖍, 𝖆 𝖇𝖔𝖔𝖐 𝖋𝖊𝖑𝖑 𝖔𝖋𝖋 𝖆 𝖘𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖋, 𝖜𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖜𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖎𝖙 𝖇𝖊?

Summary: Dutch seems like a stranger to you now and maybe it's time to take a step back.

Genre: angst

Pairing: Dutch Van der Linde x fem!reader

Strangers. That's what you and Dutch were now, two complete strangers.

After months of a rather passionate relationship, as if by magic you woke up from that disenchantment, as if that fascinating man had put a strange kind of spell on you.

How could you have been so stupid as to think that a man like Dutch Van der Linde could even remotely love you?

Did you not know, really, it was probably the fact that you were much younger than Dutch, he had more experience in life and knew how to turn the situation in his favor, on the other hand you were naive as a lamb, the perfect prey for a wolf like him.

The sun had now set on the field, and your miserable bag that collected all your luggage was now finished and prepared. Observing Dutch's tent once again, an annoying knot of resentment enveloped your throat: who knows how many jokes your teammates had made about your relationship?

You didn't need anyone's compassion, much less a fake act of do-gooding. You weren't a defenseless woman like others in the camp, you were able to defend yourself, know how to handle a gun and you certainly had more sense of direction than anyone around you. You would surely have started a better life again without any problem, perhaps on a ranch or in some modest county, on the other hand your fame could never be tarnished like that of your partner.

Dutch was on the verge of no return, while you ... well ... could still save yourself.

"YN! Darlin '! What are you doing?" the familiar voice of the gang leader caught your attention while without getting on the saddle you led your horse outside the perimeter of the field, without turning around to give him your look.

"I'm going shopping," you replied, lying very badly.

"In the middle of the night?" Dutch asked sarcastically, then took a big hit of his cigar and tossed it away.

"Yes, in the middle of the night" you repeated, not daring to slow down, while the man with the pitch-colored mustache began to speed up to be closer to you and not raise his voice.

"And where do you intend to go? On the other side of America? Because I see that you have packed your bags and in my tent there is no longer anything that belongs to you" the man began to explain knowing what topic he was touching.

"It amazes me that it took you so little Dutch. I could have sworn the bare minimum would have been after four days" you replied with a very sharp laugh.

"Okay woman, stop playing games. Come here and let's talk about it as grown-ups" Dutch said impatiently grabbing you by the arm so that you turn towards him.

"And what would you like to talk about, Van der Linde? About your next bankruptcy plan? About the next rich family you want to cheat without taking into account the lives of your buddies? Or ... I don't know you want to talk about Mary-Beth and how fantastic she is and interesting?" you asked then, throwing all your patience to the hell, you were in the middle of the bush, no one would have heard you if you lost your temper. Dutch raised an eyebrow in disapproval as he put both hands on the thick leather belt.

"Put your next words very carefully, little girl" he replied in a very dangerous intonation that you had rarely heard from his lips. A stranger certainly wouldn't have caught the difference between his annoyed tone and his normal tone, but you did and you knew what Dutch Van der Linde was capable of if he lost control of himself. But did that matter to you? Probably not anymore.

"Why? Because they could hurt your thin ego" you asked defiantly, then shaking your head, the grip on your arm tightened.

"Because you may not know what you are talking about" but of course, obviously for this occasion too your partner had prepared an infallible Socratic epic in favor of him.

"Really? For once I think instead I know perfectly well what I'm talking about, and please don't tell me that mine are whims of a child. Now let me have this arm Van der Linde" you ordered trying to unglue his strong and wide hand off, but Dutch didn't seem to give up.

"Really, Y/N? I instead see in front of me a frightened little girl who is running away from her problems instead of solving them as an adult and mature woman. You are probably doing it because you also know that this infallible pretext is convenient for you to leave your family behind" This was too much, how dare he tell you such a thing? You had done everything for the gang, you had donated so many supplies and money, you always wanted to come back with a mission accomplished and without mistakes. You wouldn't have let Dutch demean you like that just because for once, you had decided to take care of yourself.

Without even thinking about it, your hand flew over the man's face, leaving him a loud slap on the cheekbone. There was a deadly moment of silence and although you were shocked by your own non-calculating action, you took advantage of the moment to get on your steed.

"Fuck you, Dutch Van der Linde" you said indignantly and grittedly as you put your hat on your head, so as to cover your disappointed and hurt gaze. Whoever the man you loved was, you lost him in Blackwater or maybe in the freezing mountains of Colter "The truth is that I saw you for who you are, what keeps you afloat are still that bunch of deluded ones who follow you faithful as if I were the fucking Messiah. The time will come when all your tangles will come to a head, and I will watch from afar"

The man still shaken by that slap, felt the blood in his veins boil with anger, probably sprung from having lost his favorite toy, or because he was right after all, sooner or later even Dutch's faith would falter and like a house of cards he would collapse.

"You will have no protection out there, Y/N. I give you the chance to get off that horse and go back to the field, and I will forget everything that came out of that mouth of yours" the man proposed, placing both hands towards you, as if if he were trying to convince a person not to jump off a bridge.

"The only person they really want is you, Dutch. I'm not the one they want hanged" you poisonously commented, reminding him of the words and threats of the Pinkertons "Goodbye Dutch, remember. You could have had the most precious treasure in the world: a family. But your insatiability and your ego are taking you into the water and where it is impossible for me to save you" you threw him one last look, this time more melancholy "And I'm not going to sink with you" and with that last sentence, your horse started at a gallop, leaving the man you loved impaled like a fool in the middle of the bush.

He did not follow you, because on the other hand, he too knew that you were just an ornamental object in his tent, but how much pride do you have to put aside to just say "you're right"?

On the other hand, you did not turn around, even if the desire was so much, the cold wind of the night caressed your soft hair, while the stars illuminated your path, towards a new life. How much dignity would you have had to put aside to tell him one last time: "I loved you"?

Too much, and your pockets had long since emptied, like Dutch Van der Linde's heart.

𝕿𝕳𝕰 𝕰𝕹𝕯

𝕯𝖔 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖜𝖆𝖓𝖙 𝖙𝖔 𝖘𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖇𝖔𝖔𝖐 𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖓𝖎𝖈𝖍𝖊? 𝕺𝖗 𝖉𝖔 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖜𝖆𝖓𝖙 𝖙𝖔 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉 𝖎𝖙 𝖆𝖌𝖆𝖎𝖓?

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