#Dutch Schaefer x reader

[gxbbyhoneybadger]

Imagine if Dutch Schaefer (Predator 1987) and John Rambo (Rambo movie series) had to work together to hunt down feral Yautjas and Xenomorphs. Like Bro!!

[one-boring-person]

Hi! I was wondering if you could write more for Dutch from Predator? Lol it's me btw! I was wondering if it could be a hate to love relationship, where Dutch, being the hardass he is, can't live down his pride, and the reader (preferably female), is a strong independent woman who is actually Poncho's little sister, learning from the best. To add on, can the reader be short as Arnie is so tall, and because I am only 5'2" irl?

I kind of combined this with the enemies-to-lovers prompt request, I hope that's ok! I hope you like this!😊💛

Old Habits Die Hard.

Alan "Dutch" Schaefer (Predator 1987) x reader

Warnings: NSFW, smut, swearing, mention of violence, alcohol consumption

Masterlist

"This round's on me, what does everyone want?" Mac announces as we go to sit down at the table, the mercenary remaining standing.

"A beer sounds good." Poncho says, looking at the rest of us.

We give words of agreement, taking our respective places at the table as Mac goes to leave the room and go to the bar.

"Don't forget a soda, I don't think they sell alcohol to underage people here." Dutch chips in, flashing a pointed look in my direction.

"Very funny." I roll my eyes, forcing a smile as the others chuckle, "A beer is fine, Mac. Thanks."

He nods, ducking from the room we rented out for the evening, leaving the five of us alone.

"So what's all this about, Dutch? Got us another job?" Blain questions, the gruff man leaning back in his chair, jaw working languidly at the gunk in his mouth.

"Yeah, but this one's a bit different." The major replies, taking a cigar from his pocket and lighting it.

"Different? How?" Hawkins frowns, cokcing his head to the side.

Dutch takes a deep breath of smoke from the cigar, sitting back in his seat.

"An old friend from the army got in touch. Says he needs us for a rescue op."

"Friend from the army? Who?" I inquire, lifting an eyebrow.

"Old commander of mine." Dutch replies dismissively, barely sparing me a glance.

"Ok, where is the job?" Poncho asks, my brother shooting me a knowing look, his eyes flicking up as Mac walks in again, seven beers cradled in his arms.

"What job?" He asks as he places the bottles down on the table, looking round at us all.

"Dutch got us another op." Blain grunts, reaching out to take his beer, spitting the contents of his mouth out into the ashtray on the table. Hawkins, Poncho and I pull faces at that, but don't say anything.

"Another one? We only just got back!" Mac exclaims, taking a seat across from Hawkins, taking a sip from his beer.

"Perks of the job." Dutch shrugs, exhaling a cloud of smoke.

"Will you at least tell us what it is?" I can't keep the impatience from my voice, finding his vagueness irritating.

"I'm getting to it, (Y/n), calm down." He rolls his eyes, "It's in central America, somewhere in the jungle. Phillips was cagey about where exactly, but he said it's got something to do with guerrillas and hostages. We're supposed to get the hostages out of there."

"Sounds simple enough." Billy muses, rubbing his chin.

"When is it?" Poncho chips in, watching the major closely.

Dutch is quiet for a minute, his eyes flicking over us all, before he finally responds.

"It's tomorrow."

I nearly choke on my beer, spluttering as I sit upright in my chair.

"Tomorrow? Are you insane?!" I burst out, annoyed, "We got back from Afghanistan at the ass-crack of dawn today, and you want us to fly off to the jungle at the same time tomorrow? You trying to kill us or what?"

The others nod in agreement, murmuring their own complaints, only to shut up when Dutch turns a venomous glare on me.

"You know, if you spent half the energy you do on complaining on growing, you wouldn't look like a damn child anymore, (Y/n). Would make taking jobs a lot easier - means I don't have to explain why we've only got six and half mercs with us." He snaps, voice laced with anger, "I'm not insane, just practical. We all need more money, and the work is low at the moment. You'd know that if you weren't off lounging at home all day, letting us do the hard planning and prep work."

Silence descends on us all, my jaw dropping at the vehemence behind his words. No one speaks, letting the two of us stare at each other in hatred, my expression swiftly creasing into fury, every muscle in my body going tense.

Another moment passes, before I suddenly stand from the table, slamming my bottle on the table as I stalk past, heading straight out the door. Poncho tries to stop me, calling out to me, but I ignore him, practically seething as I leave the bar and stride to the car my brother and I came in. Unlocking it, I climb in and slam the door, buckling myself into the driver's seat as I throw the car into drive, pulling out onto the road. 

Furious, I drive way over the speed limit, weaving in and out of the traffic with no regard for my own safety as I careen down the highway. Screeching horns and tyres follow me as I go, but I ignore them, focusing instead on getting home, filled with anger now as Dutch's words play over and over in my head. 

It doesn't take long for me to pull up in the drive of my house, the car skidding on the loose gravel as I harshly jerk the handbrake into place, unbuckling myself before I climb out, making my way over to the door. Opening it, I go in and head straight to the bathroom, intending to take a shower to cool me down, knowing I need to calm down. I strip down quickly, quickly getting under the cold water with my fists clenched at my sides for a while, until I start to massage myself with my fingers, working out the knots in my muscles. It's pleasant, but I can still feel the anger burning in my system, so I swiftly leave again, wrapping myself in a towel. 

As I leave the bathroom, I hear a car pull up in the drive, the tyres crunching loudly on the gravel, announcing the newcomer's arrival. I dismiss it, chalking it up to it being Poncho, come to check up on me as the door downstairs opens, then closes, footsteps sounding in the hall as the person checks for me. The sounds are heavier than I thought they would be, and the identity of the person soon dawns on me.

Immediately, I feel the anger start racing through me again, my face creasing into a scowl until I force myself to calm down, at which point I turn and storm up to my bedroom. Going in, I start to rummage through my wardrobe, looking for some new clothes, trying to bite back the irritation rising in me as I hear the footsteps getting closer, the heavy boots not even halting as they reach the door. Within seconds, the wooden structure has been flung open, an angry mercenary standing in the space behind it.

"Ever learn to knock?" I snap at him as soon as I turn around, glaring at Dutch as he looms in the doorway, "Nevermind, you never learned manners period."

"Says the person who just stormed out of a bar." He scoffs, sneering at me as he steps into the room, "Talk about table manners."

"And whose fault is it I stormed out in the first place?" I glower at him, holding my towel in place as he continues forward, the glint in his eyes sparking a blazing heat inside me.

"Oh, so now it's my fault you can't take a joke?" Dutch jabs his finger at his chest before pointing it at me, brow furrowed in anger.

"You have a pretty poor idea of a joke, asshole." I spit back, lifting my finger up in his face as we step closer together, less than a foot away from each other now.

"You're the only one who thinks so, short-ass." He glares down at me, making me all too aware of how he towers over me.

Swallowing tightly, I shift uncomfortably.

"Sure about that? I can't be the only one who thinks your height jokes are getting old." I reply venomously, jabbing my finger at his chest.

He laughs humorlessly.

"Oh, but we both remember a time when you used to love playing into your shortness." His voice drops an octave, eyes boring into me, "I had you on your knees more than once with only standing over you. Remember?"

A flare of lust goes through me at the reminder, flashes of him looming over me as he pounded his cock harder and harder into my waiting mouth coming, unbidden, to mind. I'd always liked the sight of his muscular body above mine, as well as the feelings of his large hands wrapped around me, even if it was simply to hold my head still whilst he fucked it. 

"That was months ago." I hiss back at him, barely able to look up at him - if I do, it'll be too much like the memories in my head and I'll give in to the urges of my body. Already I can feel arousal pooling in my panties, my cheeks flushing as I realise this.

"Old habits die hard." Dutch growls, before swiftly reaching out to tear the towel away, exposing me to him. Before I can protest, however, he's taken hold of me and lifted me against the wall, pinning me roughly in place with his body, my legs wrapping instinctively around his waist. His lips crash into mine, a mess of teeth and tongues ensuing as we kiss like we used to, wet sounds filling the air as we press closer and closer together. Soft sounds of need escape me, but they're swallowed by the ravenous major above me, who licks and nips at my lips, a few grunts leaving him as he does so. 

Moving to pull him closer, I moan loudly as Dutch jerks his hips into mine, using them to hold me in place, his arousal pressing at my clit through his trousers. I have to bite back whines at the feeling of the rough fabric against my unprotected clit, my slick soon covering the crotch of his jeans as he rolls his hips into me. One of his hands moves to palm roughly at my breast, pinching and rolling the nipple between two calloused fingers, his other hand grasping my ass, which he squeezes tightly. Whimpering into his mouth, I take my nails down his back, grinding my sensitive clit down onto him, enjoying the waves of pleasure emanating from the stimulation. 

Months and months of pent up lust pour through the kiss, only breaking as Dutch pulls back to yank his shirt off, revealing his muscular yet scarred torso to me. Instantly, I go to lick and kiss at the toned muscles, only to yelp indignantly as he takes hold of my hair and jerks my head back, growling as he fastens our lips together again. He presses closer, crushing me against the wall with his huge body, grinding his arousal into me with vigour, only to suddenly pull away, keeping me in his arms. In seconds, Dutch has thrown me on the bed, standing at the end with his hands on his belt. 

Biting my lip, I eagerly move to help him, but he pushes me back down roughly, wasting no time in pulling his trousers and underwear down, revealing his leaking cock to the air. I moan at the familiar sight of it, eyeing up the veined length keenly, following it from the base to the reddened tip, watching as precum beads there. 

Dutch doesn't give me long to admire him, climbing over me and pressing himself against me as soon as he's exposed, his lips moving to my neck. He leaves wet, open-mouthed kisses in his wake, biting at sensitive points as he goes, licking over them briefly each time to soothe them, every movement extracting a needy whine from me. One of his hands moves down to his cock, which he takes hold of and runs through my slick folds, coating the tip generously as he supplies pleasure to me. With every pass over my clit, I moan and rock up into him, clutching at his back. 

"Fuck me, Dutch. Show me how much bigger you are." I moan out, wrapping my legs around his waist.

As he hears my words, however, Dutch growls, leaning back, making my legs fall from where they were. I whine at the lack of contact until he rolls me onto my front, grabbing hold of my ass to knead and grope. 

"I'll show you alright." He practically snarls in my ear as he bends back over me, moulding his huge body to my smaller frame, hands jerking my ass into his hips. He grinds himself into me for a moment, building my pleasure further as he bites at the back of my neck, sending bolts of electricity through me, which I respond to by rocking back onto him. 

With a final grunt, Dutch lines himself up with my hole, surging forwards into me in one stroke, stretching me out as he goes. A half-scream leaves my throat as I feel his cock slide over every sensitive spot inside me, my walls clenching deliciously around him, every vein rubbing against me. He gives me no time to adjust, pulling out entirely before slamming back into me, setting a hard, fast pace that has me seeing stars in no time. Ecstasy races through me, a knot tightening swiftly in my abdomen at the feeling of his thick cock pounding into me. 

Dutch straightens after a moment, taking my hip in one hand whilst he presses my face into the bed with the other, using me as leverage to shove his cock as far into me as he can go, grunting and groaning behind me in pleasure and need. Under his grip, I feel totally immobile, but the thought of him using me to work out his anger sends me reeling, my walls clenching tightly around him, tearing a moan from his lips. His name falls from my own, almost like a mantra as he slams into me, sending bolts of pleasure through me, bringing me closer and closer to what I really want. 

"So close, Dutch...keep going, oh fuck, you're so good…" I moan out, my words muffled slightly by the bed, though they are audible enough for him.

A whine of displeasure echoes from my chest as he suddenly pulls out, my pussy throbbing at the loss. He doesn't wait long, though, rolling me back onto my back before he hikes my legs up onto his shoulders, thrusting roughly back into me. With the new angle, whole other waves of pleasure ripple through me, his cock hitting the very spot that brings me crashing towards an orgasm. The sound of skin slapping together fills the room, along with obscenely wet noises and moans from the two of us, both too caught up in the moment to care about what comes after.

"You're getting tighter, (Y/n)...gonna cum for me, are you?" Dutch groans, his thrusts becoming erratic as my pleasure rapidly builds, "Come on, (Y/n), cum for me!"

With a final scream of ecstasy, the tension inside me snaps and I cum, hard, my walls clenching like a vice around him. White light blinds me, everything disappearing around me as the pleasure floods through me in a great torrent, rendering me incapable of moving momentarily. 

Vaguely, I feel Dutch pound into me a few more times before he pulls out and cums over my stomach, letting out a roar of satisfaction at the sensation, his hand wrapped around himself, jerking his cock desperately. Breathing heavily, he milks himself dry before he slumps over me, smearing the sticky substance between us, the two of us left breathless in the throes of our pleasure. 

"Still as good as I remember." He hums, rolling off of me to lie beside me.

"Could say the same thing." I sigh, trailing a finger through his cooling cum, grimacing at the sight of it.

Groaning, I heave myself up, taking the towel up from the floor.

"Where are you going?" Dutch asks, still lounging on the bed.

"Shower. You should, too." I inform him, moving to leave, only to stop still as the door swings open.

"(Y/n)? Who are you- oh." Poncho blushes a deep red, grimacing as he swiftly ducks back out of the room. 

"Oh shit…" I groan, putting my head in my hands, unable to bite back a small smile.

With just grins, leaning back on his hands.

"Oops."

-

Tag list: @nightime-luna-fairy

[one-boring-person]

Alrighty! I know I’m late but to make up I’m going to send a B U N C H of requests! You don’t have to do all of em but I think they’re going to be fun!

Ok first off how bout a Dutch x Reader where they got separated in the jungle and meet up in the chopper, but Dutch was sure she died and it’s a nice little reunion!

I cannot wait to write all of these! I'm so excited!😅 I think I may have gone a bit overboard with this first one, but the idea has been going round my head ever since I read the request, so I hope you like it!

We're Alive!

Alan "Dutch" Schaefer x reader (Platonic)

Warnings: death, spoilers, injury, blood, gun use

Masterlist

"(Y/N)! GO!" Dutch bellows at me as he scrambles to get up again, his arm bleeding profusely from his newly acquired wound, the major's voice laced with pain and urgency.

"No!" I snap back, taking up my gun and firing off into the trees, aiming for the origin of the blast from before, going in a wild arc as the automatic pelts the surroundings with a volley of bullets.

"(Y/n), get to the chopper, now!" He tries again, climbing to his feet, his own gun clenched in hand as he backs himself with me, the two of us staring out at the area.

"N-" I go to respond, only to be cut off by another flash of energy coming between us, the heat of it burning away the skin and fabric covering my leg, a surprised cry of agony escaping me as I instinctively buckle under the intensity. 

Dutch is quick to grab me, forcing me to duck down slightly as we take off into the underbrush, the veteran pulling me along with speed. Vines and branches whip past my face, welts appearing on my grimy skin as I do my best to hobble after the broad-shouldered man ahead of me, his physical size easily parting the jungle for him. Behind us, I can hear the pounding footsteps and eerie clicking of whatever the hell is chasing us, my pulse pounding in my ears as my panic fuels my adrenaline, allowing me to ignore the searing pain in my leg. Each breath is harsh and fast, my legs pumping quickly to cover as much ground as possible. 

All of a sudden, Dutch's foot goes out from under him, his massive body falling into the sharp slope to the side of us. A shout of panic tears itself from his throat as he tumbles out of sight, leaving me alone on our original trail, our ruthless pursuer hot on my heels. 

"DUTCH!" I scream after him, briefly considering going after him, unsure of how well I'll fare without him.

A low growl behind me makes the decision for me, my instincts kicking in as I ignore my heart and push on, limping on into the dense jungle, eyes widening as I realise exactly how close the killer is. My heart jumps in my chest as I suddenly feel the quick brush of air as it swipes at me, blades just catching the back of my neck before I've gotten out of the way, my legs carrying me faster as fear takes over. Completely oblivious to any pain now, I thunder through the undergrowth, slapping wildly at vines, leaping over fallen branches and logs, heartbeat racing faster and faster with each step. There's a taste of iron on my tongue, blood from a bitten lip dripping down my face now, coating my chin in a thin layer of the stuff. 

And then my feet are no longer touching the ground.

Crying out in surprise, I throw my hands out in front of me to catch myself, my palms smacking harshly into hard rock as I smash into the boulder below me. Pain explodes in my chest as it collides with the solid surface, winding me even as my knees crack loudly as they bounce off of it. 

For a moment, I lie still, trying to regain my breath, before I roll onto my back, staring up at the slight cliff I fell off, expecting to be met with the sight of three red dots on my chest. Surprisingly, I see nothing, the forest around me mostly silent, except for the rushing of water, which I quickly deduce is from the river nearby. Groaning, I let myself relax, closing my eyes as I finally register the full extent of the pain coursing through my body, my newly bruised torso not helping at all with the stinging from my leg, blood now pouring down the limb in great streams, staining my skin crimson. 

Steeling myself, I push myself upright and take in my surroundings, glad to find myself at the river where there are many boulders I can use as cover, the ground much easier to move over here, meaning I can make a quick getaway if I need to. Somewhat relieved, I force myself to get up and go to the river, knowing I need to clean my wounds or they'll get infected, not that it makes much difference: I'll probably be dead by the end of the day. 

I shake these thoughts from my head, focusing on getting to the river as I limp over the uneven surface, coming to kneel beside it with a wince. Swiftly, I peel back my frayed trouser leg and manoeuvre myself so that the appendage lies in the water, the cool sensation bringing tears to my eyes from the harsh sting. It is somewhat soothing, but mostly painful, the blood washing away quickly, only to be replaced by more as the open wound continues to bleed, the inflicted area being large, not deep thankfully. Biting my lip, I run a hand over it, cleaning it slightly before finally pulling it out, swiftly tearing off my sleeve and wrapping it around my leg as a makeshift bandage.

Having done so, I hobble back to one of the boulders,  sitting at its base as I think over my options. 

My first instinct is to find Dutch, wherever he may be, but the cynical part of my brain tells me there's no real point. If the killer stopped chasing me, it's because it thought Dutch was the better prey, and if the fall didn't kill him, he'll be too beaten up from it to really be able to do anything against the creature hunting him. Then again, Dutch is a tough one to subdue, let alone kill, so he may well be alive and kicking, but I have no way of telling whether this is the case. 

Hopelessness floods me as I think through this, my head dropping to my chest, completely unsure of what the best course of action is. Naturally, I'd go find the pick-up point, but again, I have no idea where I am, and so would struggle greatly to find the allocated place, meaning I'm totally stranded here, alone with a killer stalking around. Lifting my head, I check over my body to see which weapons I still have, glad to find my knife still attached to my hip, though I curse colourfully when I realize I dropped my gun in my haste to escape the predator at my heels, leaving me defenceless, unless it comes into close-quarters, which I would rather it didn't. Chewing my lip, I toy with my knife a bit, before deciding to try and locate the pick-up point, think over the possibility of retracing my steps. I would've left a trail through the jungle from my panic, so it shouldn't be too hard to follow it back to where Poncho was killed. 

At the reminder of this, my heart twists painfully, my chest tightening from the realisation that all of my closest friends, possibly bar one, are dead at the hands of this otherworldly killer, all because of some mission Dillon managed to get us mixed up in. When Dutch had first told us about it, I'd been sceptical, not quite believing that our team was needed for it, rather than another military branch, but I'd gone along with it in the end after a particularly snide comment from Dillon himself, finding myself with the need to prove him wrong. A bitter chuckle escapes my lips at the thought, reflecting on where his antics eventually got us, and him, though I scold myself for being unfair; it's not his fault there's a predator trying to kill us.

Climbing to my feet, I push aside the idle thoughts, ignoring the pang in my heart at my own callousness, limping stiffly back to the small cliff I fell off, glancing up at it to determine how I should get back up. Deeming it appropriate, I slide the knife back into its sheath and find myself a hand hold on the hard rock, beginning the tough climb up. Agony shoots through my battered body, but I simply grit my teeth and push past it, forcing my body to haul itself higher and higher, fingers scrabbling at the tough stone, leaving them raw and grazed, the skin chafing away with each movement. My muscles scream at me in protest, grimaces contorting my face with each pull, relief flooding me as I reach the top of the cliff. Dragging myself up onto it, I hastily scramble to my feet and observe my surroundings, wary of what might be hiding in the trees, my body tense and ready for action.

By now, darkness has fallen on the jungle, a bright moon shining down onto me from above, lighting up the trees before me slightly, casting them in a ghostly light. The dreary appearance puts me on edge, knowing that the new shadows provide all sorts of effective cover for any predator, especially the cruel one hunting me down. Breathing deeply, I start off into the dense shrubbery.

The going is slow, my leg now hurting me badly as I drag my body through the jungle, doing my best to head in what I think is a familiar direction. My eyes have long since adjusted to the darkness, allowing me to see in minimal clarity where I'm going, making the navigation somewhat faster than it could be, though I'm still painfully aware of how disadvantaged I am in this current state. Every sound and noise around me makes me freeze in place, terror stiffening my joints every few seconds, my hand reaching for my knife with each rustle of the leaves. Mentally, I know that if the creature was anywhere nearby, it would've killed me by now, but the weapon at my hip gives me some reassurance in any case.

Something heavy drops from the canopy to land in front of me, branches snapping under the weight, the sudden sound drawing a gasp of fear from me. Stopping still, I stare at the misshapen form on the floor, already dreading going closer, though my curiosity gets the better of me. Unfortunately, I regret this decision as soon as I look over what I now know to be a body. 

Before I can stop it, a cry of horror tears itself from my throat, the outburst horribly loud to me as I fight the urge to hurl, quickly looking away from the mangled body at my feet.

And then I hear it.

Clicking.

Whirling on my heels, I draw my knife and look around me, adrenaline pumping through me, my hand shaking uncontrollably as my wide eyes take in the surroundings.

The clicking continues, seemingly all around me.

Terrified, I jerk my head around, unsure of where it might be, breathing ragged now as I struggle to focus.

Suddenly, the knife goes flying from my grip, my wrist snapping painfully as it is twisted back against my arm, a surprised scream of pain leaving my parted lips as I can only watch the limb become disfigured, the invisible blow dealt to it having a lot more force than I expected. Taking a step back, I feel my heart pound in my chest, still unable to see where my attacker is, as well as who it might be. 

Agony explodes around my jaw as a camouflaged fist connects with it, blood filling my mouth from the strength of the punch, knocking me to the floor. Catching myself, I scramble in the dirt for my knife, ignoring the tears that have sprung to my eyes, spitting out mouthful of blood with each breath, my face aching badly. I don't get a chance to recover properly, before I've been thrown into a nearby tree, an invisible hand clamped tightly around my neck, holding me a good foot or two off the ground. Gasping, I grasp at whatever is holding me, feeling dark spots take over my vision, but not before I catch sight of what exactly is holding me captive. 

Eyes widening, I bat at the metal mask, hoping to knock it off guard before it can choke me to death, but I can feel my throat beginning to constrict, air struggling to flow through it as it used to. My pulse races, body now aware of its dying state, my arms weakly slapping at the huge creature holding me, darkness flooding my vision. Dizzy and light-headed, I feel my conscience starting to leave me, allowing me to fall into the blackness I so desperately want to give in to. 

Vaguely, I register the predator's head snap round, clearly distracted by something, before I finally succumb to the darkness.

*

A low beating sound draws me from the fog in my brain, my conscience coming back to me slowly. Blinking, I push myself upright, yelping in pain as my body aches and throbs, my neck feeling completely useless as the bruising agony there kicks in. Everything rushes back to me, confusion flooding my mind as I recall the predator choking me to death, explaining the pain in my neck, though it does not explain why I'm still alive. 

Frowning, I glance upwards, realising that the beating sound I can hear is the steady whir of helicopter rotors, my heart soaring as I recognise that I may still have a chance of getting out of here alive. Ignoring the agony in my body, I throw myself to my feet and start limping as quickly as possible in the direction of the familiar sound, elated at the thought of getting out of here, though I feel my heart twist at the thought of it only being me. Hope gives me some speed, allowing me to charge relatively quickly through the undergrowth, all thoughts of the predator forgotten as the sound gets louder, the aircrafts now visible in the sky from where I am, though only in the distance. 

A deafening explosion somewhere to my left jerks me from my feet, a shockwave from the blast easily throwing me to the ground. Covering my head with my hands, I instinctively keep myself small, knowing full well how to stay somewhat safe in the midst of an explosion, though I can feel my hope slowly draining away. What if the blast took out the chopper?

Minutes pass before I climb to my feet again, taking note of the thick smoke now shrouding the jungle, making it harder to see where I'm going. I decide to go towards the sound, knowing that the explosion will have drawn the pilot's attention, meaning it'll be much easier to see me if they fly over to explore it. As I thought, the beating of the rotors gets steadily louder as I delve deeper, glad to find that it is much more cacophonous here. 

Bursting out from behind a tree, I feel my spirit soar as I see the smoke in this area being whipped up and away from the clearing, allowing me to see in a large radius around the lowering aircraft. With it, however, I notice that the rotors have revealed something else. 

Immediately, my heart skips a beat.

Clumsily, I stumble forwards, tears coming to my eyes as I recognise the figure standing a little way away, the muscular man turning to me in surprise.

"(Y/n)?!" He exclaims, shock and relief lacing his accented voice as he sees me.

"Dutch!" I call back, running towards him even as he runs towards me, his arms outstretched towards me, the filthy major bloodied and beaten, but still alive. 

Upon reaching each other, Dutch wraps me into a tight embrace, crushing me into his muscular body even as I bury myself into him, clutching at his waist, leaping into his arms. Picking me up, he presses his face into my hair, muttering things to me, voice breaking in emotion, his grip tight around me, knees buckling out from underneath him as it overwhelms him. Tears fall freely from my eyes, my face pressing into his bare chest, ignoring the blood and mud, relishing the feeling of his body against mine, my hands pulling him closer to me as he falls to the floor, my form still wrapped around his. One of his hands comes up to press me head into the crook of his neck, allowing me to inhale his familiar scent, the smell comforting me and reassuring me as I sob in joy. Reluctantly, he pulls his head back so he can look down at me, his grey eyes meeting mine, their surfaces wet with tears.

"I-i thought...I thought you died…" He stammers out, voice breaking with emotion, his cheeks stained with his tears, my heart throbbing for him as the usually stoic man holds me close to him.

"I'm here, Dutch, I'm here." I reassure him, before continuing, "I thought it got you, too…"

I have to fight through the choking emotion, but I manage to get it out, laughing in giddy relief as he pulls me back into him, crushing me into him, his arms locking me in place.

Dutch keeps his arms around me even as we climb into the chopper, the veteran pulling me so that I lie against his chest in my seat, his hand resting on my back as if to keep himself grounded. I stare up at him, unwilling to look out at the jungle even as he stares at it, face blank as the grief and exhaustion finally catches up to him. Anna sits across from us, the guerrilla girl thankfully still alive, glad to see us in a similar state. 

"You have no idea how glad I am that you're still alive...I don't know what I would've done if…" Dutch murmurs to me, the man rambling a little as the emotions assault him, his grip tightening with every word.

"We're alive, Dutch, and I'm so, so happy we are." I respond, nuzzling into his chest, uncaring of the fact it is covered in a layer of mud.

Exhausted, the two of us drift off, sleep finally catching up to us as the trauma of the past few days sets in, our consciences unable to keep going after so long of simply running on survival instinct.

[one-boring-person]

When It's All Over.

Alan "Dutch" Schaefer (Predator 1987) x reader

Warnings: swearing, mention of injury, mention of death, blood, mention of gun violence, MILD SPOILERS

Context: The reader is a part of Dutch's group, and is one of the only survivors left behind. This takes place during their preparation for the final fight.

A/N: This is my first time officially writing Predator stuff, so please don't get angry if it's a bit out of character, but I really wanted to write something! Dutch is an absolute favourite of mine, and I want to write more for him in the future 😅

Masterlist

"That's the last of the traps I can rig." My voice startles the filthy major as I climb up beside him onto the raised area he's selected for his makeshift workshop. His hand instantly reaches for the nasty-looking knife at his belt, grey eyes widening slightly as they fix on me. 

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you." I apologise, holding up my hands as he breathes out and relaxes again.

"Don't worry about it. I'm just...on edge." Dutch reassures me, his gruff voice somehow calming my own nerves slightly. 

"For good reason, I guess." I muse quietly, sitting down opposite him, watching as he continues what he's doing, "What're you making?"

"Explosive arrows. They'll throw that bastard off, and will hurt it, too." He clarifies, gesturing to the opened shells lying beside him, the powder inside just visible.

I nod appreciatively, knowing that his expertise far outreaches mine, the veteran having had a lot more experience than it looks like I ever will. Silently, I watch him work, enraptured by the deft movements of his hands, his bare muscles bulging with every twist, his grimy skin somehow still showing through under the layer of dirt that hasn't quite rubbed off yet. We'll re-paint ourselves with the stuff soon, but for now we're simply preparing in the reprieve we've been gifted by the ruthless killer that is hunting us down. My hand instinctively goes to the wound on my upper arm, the hastily-bandaged injury still throbbing with every movement, though I've long since learnt to deal with pain. With the reminder comes a flashback of something Blain said to me before he met his end, back in the guerrilla camp.

"I ain't got time to bleed."

At the time, I'd laughed it off, finding his callous yet brotherly antics reassuring after the chaos of the attack on the camp. I miss him already, just as I miss the rest of them, the tight-knit group having become my family in the years I've been part of it. A bitter laugh escapes me again as I think over how bad my luck with families is.

"What?" Dutch's question snaps me from whatever trance I was in, his hands having slowed again as he watches me closely, head tilted to the side.

"Huh? Oh, I just remembered something Blain said to me." I reveal, sitting back against the tree trunk behind me, making eye contact with the major.

He chuckles, going back to what he was doing.

"That's quite general, (Y/n). He says- said, a lot of things." He corrects himself, grimacing at the reminder of what happened to his friend.

"I guess so." 

Falling back into silence, I take out my knife and check the blade, waiting for Dutch to finish up with his job, making sure the weapon is sharp enough for me to use.

"What do you think it's doing right now?" I mutter, glancing up at Dutch curiously.

Shrugging, he places down the arrow he was working on, taking up the longbow he's fashioned out of a branch and fibre from a vine.

"Honestly, I'd rather not think about it. We've just got to be ready for when it comes back." The veteran confesses, plucking at the string of the bow experimentally, smiling triumphantly when it makes a satisfying twanging sound.

"Fair enough." I nod, replacing my knife in my belt and standing, stretching out my sore muscles. 

After a moment, he also climbs upright, leaving the bow where it is as he comes to stand beside me, looking out over the clearing. Absentmindedly, I allow my eyes to roam over the particular spots where I know there are traps hidden, each one of them hidden precisely, the action having taken me most of the time we've had in this sudden lull of the hunt. A pit of dread had managed to work it's way into me, my mind slowly convincing itself that we may as well be dead already, our little show of traps and bravado probably not going to help us much. Swallowing, I turn my gaze down to my feet, clenching my fists at my sides, trying to fight off the feeling. 

Silent beside me, Dutch seems to notice my body language and turns to face me, watching me as I keep my gaze averted.

"I'm scared, Dutch." I finally reveal to him, ashamed of this as I feel a blush come to my cheeks. I am confident that I can tell him this, but I still feel stupid admitting it, as if I'm giving in to what the creature wants.

"I know." He murmurs, placing an hand on my shoulder, "And so am I, but we can do this together. We'll beat that bastard into the ground." 

Looking up at him, I allow a small smile to cross my face, before I find myself enveloped in his muscular arms, my smaller figure pulled into his massive body. Grateful, I wrap my own arms around him, inhaling the mix of scents that shroud him deeply, the smell reassuring me even as his tight grip does, the feeling of his corded body under my hands grounding me. Neither of us care if we are covered in mud and gore, only caring that we have this last moment together before all hell breaks loose, my heart throbbing as he presses my head into his chest with a hand, burying his face into my hair. 

"I'm glad that I don't have to do this on my own, (Y/n)." Dutch murmurs into my scalp, rubbing my back gently with his one hand, the other playing with my hair.

"Me too, Dutch." I mumble in response, my voice muffled by his chest.

Pulling away, the major presses one kiss to my forehead, smiling down at me as we part, bodies aching to be back with each other again, still feeling the residual heat from each other. He takes my hand in his briefly, before we split off and start caking ourselves in mud, doing so in companionable silence. We coat ourselves thoroughly, making sure to cover every inch of our bodies, knowing this may well be what gives us the upper hand against our opponent. Finishing, we come together one last time.

"You ready?" The veteran asks me softly, taking up the currently unlit torch from the floor.

"No, but I'll do my very best." I respond, watching as he shoulders his bow, admiring the movements of his bulging muscles.

He smirks, gesturing for me to go.

"Get into position. I'll see you when it's all over." He commands me, brushing some of my filthy hair from my face.

"Yes sir." I salute him, grinning as I scramble to get into position, climbing down the rocks into a small alcove we found nearby, crouching down behind a conveniently placed boulder. From my position, I can just about see Dutch stride out to the centre of his walkway, halting at the end with the torch held aloft, an orange flame blazing at its tip.

Shooting one last look my way, Dutch releases a powerful roar, the sound clearly a war cry, or challenge to the predator hunting us, the force behind it making it resonate around the clearing, his grief and anger giving it strength. Throwing down his torch, the veteran moves back to solid ground, taking hold of a vine and swinging to the opposite end of the clearing, having grabbed his bow and arrows at the same time. Once he is in position, I recover the last shotgun we have left from under the nearby leaves, cocking it as I kneel down in the mud, holding myself stock still. 

Silence falls as we wait for our attacker to arrive.

[one-boring-person]

Call Me Dutch. (Part 2/2)

Alan "Dutch" Schaefer (Predator) x reader

Warnings: NSFW, smut, swearing, gun use.

Context: Things get hot ;)

Masterlist

Silence haunts us, as it has done since we left the cave this morning, neither of us saying more than a few necessary words to each other the entire time. Tension has quickly settled, an unspoken need between us developing very quickly as we make our way through the humid jungle, quick glances being thrown at each other every now and then. Neither of us is entirely focused, the lust from this morning having stayed with us all day, much to our displeasure, with the only satisfaction from this being each other, though we are both too hesitant to admit that. 

A cool layer of sweat has formed on my hands, the shotgun I'm carrying slipping in my grasp slightly. Adjusting my grip, I curse as a loose round suddenly falls from the bandolier around my chest, dropping into the mulch at my feet soundlessly. Without a second thought, I bend to pick it up, forgetting that Dutch is behind me, and now has a perfect view of my ass, grabbing the shell and reinserting it into the correct holder, carrying on with the walk. In doing so, I just miss the sharp intake of breath from the man behind me, his pupils darkening considerably. In the dimming afternoon light, however, it is not quite so noticeable.

"Where shall we make camp tonight?" I ask, suddenly, looking back at him over my shoulder.

"Use the next clearing we come to." Dutch growls back, adjusting himself again as he feels his body starting to react to my behaviour.

"Roger that." I respond, turning back around and continuing on.

This routine of walking during the day and camping at night has been a habit of three days now, the fourth night only a few hours off, the mission this time a little more exhausting than usual. When we were first dropped in, we were given a general idea of where we might find the hostages we've been tasked to retrieve, but the one problem was that each of the people we needed to rescue had been kept in a different place. Of course, this meant that we'd need to cover a lot more ground, so we split up into smaller groups, Dutch picking them for us to avoid any conflicts, planning to meet up again at a certain point after six days. Knowing Dutch's general success and experience, we agreed with this and split up, each going separate directions. To my surprise, our leader had picked me to go with him, over some of the stronger characters of the group.

"This will do." The veteran suddenly speaks up, gesturing to the clearing we've stepped into.

"Ok." I agree, stopping and dropping my heavy bags onto the floor, as well as the bandolier around my chest, instantly bending to grab some materials to make camp. In doing so, I yet again miss the tense stare on Dutch's face as he watches me straighten and go to make a fire, eyes lingering on my ass as I accidentally wave it in his direction.

It takes me a few minutes, but eventually I have a small fire going, at which point I grab some rope and my knife, before walking to the perimeter of the clearing. Once I've gone a little way out, I get to work setting traps, hiding a good few around the circumference of the camp which are well-concealed, some aimed at catching animals, others at approaching enemies, the whole process taking up twenty minutes at least. 

Having done that, I head back to the clearing, stretching slightly as my muscles start to cramp, only to suddenly find myself pinned to a nearby tree, a hand wrapped loosely around my neck. Eyes wide, I grab at the hand until my wrist is taken and pinned behind me with my other, a hard, muscular body pressing against me to stop me moving. Making eye contact with my attacker, I blink a few times as I see who it is.

"M-major? What- what are you doing?" I stutter out, trying to ignore the lust that has come to life within me, this proximity fueling my previous need for him.

"You've been teasing me all day, (Y/n)." The man growls into my ear, his deep voice sending bolts of desire straight through me, a shiver running down my spine.

"What do you m-mean?" I try not to whimper as he suddenly pushes himself closer to me.

"Walking around with your ass in front of me all day, bending over so that I get a good look at what I can't have? Is that what you were doing?" He challenges, staring me down, "Well, I'm gonna take what I want, and show you exactly what I can and can't have."

Without another word, he crashes his lips into mine, kissing me hard as his tongue instantly dips into my open mouth, exploring every part it can reach, swallowing the noises escaping me. The hand around my throat tightens minutely and he lifts my head up slightly to allow for easier access, the hand pinning my wrists releasing me so that he can grab my hip, pulling me into him. Immediately, I move my hands to wrap around his neck, pulling lightly at the strands of hair there, arching my body into his. Dutch lets out a pleased growl at this, the sound resonating through me as I smooth my palms over the muscles of his shoulders, feeling them over through the loose fabric of his shirt.

Breaking away from the kiss, Dutch starts nibbling along my jaw, licking a stripe up to my ear, the action drawing a whine of pleasure from me, a low chuckle accompanying his roaming mouth as it goes lower. Gasps tear from my throat as he leaves wet, open-mouthed kisses on the sensitive skin, his tongue flicking against my pulse point every now and then, the veteran sucking and biting marks onto the heated expanse. At my hip, his hand begins to pull at my shirt, untucking it from my trousers and flattening his palm on my back, pressing me closer into his muscular body, using the new hold on me to grind his hips into mine. His erection is incredibly evident through his trousers, each movement of his making it even more obvious to me. 

A surprised gasp erupts from me as he suddenly grabs my ass, his large hand kneading the soft flesh gently as his other comes down to do the same.

"Jump." He commands in my ear, his accent much more pronounced now, the tone sending a bolt of need through me again.

Obediently, I do so, wrapping my legs around his waist as his hands move to my thighs, his grip tight now that he can press closer to my core, his hips rocking into me faster. Small grunts leave him, even as louder sounds escape me, the new position adding a lot more friction to where I need him most, the veteran pulling me ever closer as his lips move to my exposed collarbone, biting down gently so that he can leave a mark.

"Ah...Major…" I moan out, tilting my head back to give him more access.

A strangled groan breaks past his teeth and he suddenly pulls me away from the tree, manhandling me onto the floor, where he pins my wrists down with one hand again. Squeaking in surprise, I jerk my hips up as his fingers suddenly brush over my clothed core, Dutch swallowing my moans with another wet kiss, his tongue exploring my mouth once more. Arching my back, I try to break free from his grip, only to feel his hand tighten around my wrists, the fingers at my core rubbing over me more insistently as pleasure starts to build in my lower abdomen. Briefly, he removes his hand, a whine of disappointment threatening to escape me until I feel his fingers nimbly undoing my trousers, pulling them down enough so that he can dip the digits into my panties. A high-pitched moan tears itself from me at the much-needed contact, the callused fingers rubbing over my clit lightly, my hips bucking up into the touch.

"You're so wet for me, (Y/n). How long have you wanted this, hm? How long have you fantasized about me?" Dutch purrs into my ear, relishing in the shiver that runs down my spine, his words making me whimper in pleasure.

He punctuates each word with a more insistent stroke of his fingers, each movement illiciting a moan from me as my pussy throbs in need, my legs closing around his hand.

"Ah, ah, keep those open for me." He commands again, smirking as he pulls his hand away from me to move my legs apart again. Mewling from the loss, I stare up at him, pleadingly, bucking my hips up to entice him. In response, he chuckles and releases my wrists, smoothing his hands down my body as he moves to lie between my legs, removing my trousers and panties swiftly, palms pressed to my thighs.

"I want nothing more than to strip you down completely and kiss every inch of your body, but I can't have you running around the jungle naked, so this will have to do." Dutch groans into the skin of my bare thighs, kissing his way up to where I need him most.

As his lips make contact with me, I release a long, strangled moan, my hands flying to his hair as he kisses my clit, licking it a few times before sucking it into his mouth, grazing his teeth over the sensitive bud ever so gently. He flattens his tongue against me, dragging it in an upwards movement against my most sensitive parts, his fingers moving to circle my opening, collecting my slick on each digit. Maintaining eye contact, Dutch slowly pushes one finger into me, rubbing against my walls as moans and whimpers of pure pleasure escape my throat, my head falling back onto the hard ground beneath as he starts to move his hand in tandem with his tongue. Bucking my hips into his touch, I whine loudly as he stops his movements briefly.

"Look at me, (Y/n)." He growls into my clit, the vibrations dragging yet more sounds from me as I shakily lift my head to look at him again, "Good girl."

I whimper at the praise, fighting to keep my eyes open as he slips his finger back into my pussy, adding another into the fray as he thrusts his hand again, clearly enjoying the sounds he's drawing from me. The veteran scissors his fingers suddenly, my body jerking from the sensation, a cry of pleasure falling from my lips, the sound petering off into needy whines as he curls them into me, rubbing at my walls, his tongue moving much faster now. A fire has long since built in my abdomen, but now I can feel it building, the pleasure soon becoming too much.

"I'm… ah...close, Major." I manage to say, biting my lip tightly.

"Good." He hums into me, speeding up his movements as my sounds become more and more desperate, "Cum for me, (Y/n)."

Dutch's words, combined with his husky voice and the vibrations it causes on my clit, trigger something inside me, and I feel my orgasm tear through me, a long moan being drawn past my teeth as I throw my head back and rock my hips into his face without abandon. White-hot pleasure floods my veins, my hands gripping his hair tightly, pulling him into me as he continues to lick at me, cleaning me as much as he can, a low chuckle leaving him at the blissed-out state I'm in.

"Look at you. So beautiful, so hot." He smirks, moving back up to kiss at my neck.

Still reeling, I barely hear as a breathy sigh escapes me in response, my body already heating up again from his ministrations, his hips rocking down onto mine, his bulge pressing against me. 

"Can you keep going, Schatz, or do you want me to stop?" Dutch questions me, pulling back to look me in the eye, halting all of his movements.

Reaching up, I wrap my arms around his muscular neck and play slightly with the hairs at the base of his neck, heat pooling in my core again from the dark gaze he has trained on me, his lip pulling between his teeth as he tries not to grind down on me.

"I can keep going, Major. Please keep going." I plead, squeaking as his lips crash into mine again, his hips bucking into mine insistently.

His hands move to my ass again, grasping it and using the grip to help me move with him, the veteran letting out a guttural groan as he pulls away from the kiss, pressing his forehead to mine, eyes squeezed shut. Breathing heavily, I allow one of my hands to run down his muscular chest to his crotch, where I hesitantly let my fingers brush over the bulging tent in his trousers. Instantly, he moans and rocks into my touch, his grip on me tightening as I start palming him, dragging the heel of my hand over him as I enjoy the pleasurable sounds that escape the usually stoic man above me. Dutch growls and presses harder against me, kissing at my neck once again as he basks in the pleasure I'm supplying to him, his own hand coming around to grab my wrist briefly, halting my movements.

I look at him in surprise, only to understand the reason for this action when he starts undoing his flies, hastily yanking his trousers and briefs down to reveal his member to me. My eyes widen at the sight of the length and girth of it, the tip of his cock already leaking precum out onto the reddened skin, the thick vein on its underside incredibly prominent in its current state. As he leans back, I feel a soft moan of anticipation leave me, need and desire flooding me with more ferocity as I watch him drag a hand up and down the length, the major sitting back on his heels to look me over. His eyes are dark, his skin covered in a sheen of sweat, the lust in his body almost palpable in the air around him. Dutch keeps one hand on my hip, gently caressing the skin as he prepares himself to push into me, situating himself comfortable between my legs before speaking one last time.

"You're sure about this, (Y/n)?" The veteran groans out, making eye contact with me.

Needily, I jerk my hips towards him, moaning out a series of agreements and pleas, craving the feeling of his cock inside me after so long of fantasizing about it. Tensing his muscles, Dutch takes his dick in hand and aims it at my throbbing hole, the blunt tip nudging against my clit accidentally as he does so, drawing a strangled sound from me. Biting his lip, he then slowly pushes in, stretching my pussy out carefully as he tries not to thrust into me immediately, groans and grunts falling from behind his teeth, animalistic sounds of pure pleasure and desire escaping me with each movement. Whining, I throw my head back onto the ground behind me, my hands scratching at the mulch as I scramble to find something to hold onto, the feeling of his thick cock sliding into me throwing me even further into the pool of lust I've long since succumbed to.

"Fuck...you're so tight...feel so good…" Dutch moans out, leaning his own head back as I inadvertently tighten around him from his lurid words.

Moving his hands to my waist, he continues to push into me until he's bottomed out, nerves inside me that have never been touched before screaming in pleasure from the contact, my breathing heavy and uneven. He stays still for a moment, allowing me to adjust to him before he slowly pulls out of me until just his tip is left inside me, his hips suddenly snapping back into me with force. The power behind the thrust pushes me backwards slightly, a yelp erupting from my throat, similar noises escaping me as he repeats this action again, his hands roaming down to my ass again, which he grasps tightly and lifts to meet each thrust. Lifting my hips with each thrust, I try to grind back onto him, but he only growls and tightens his grip on me, fucking into me harder, each stroke brushing against sensitive nerves inside me.

"Ah...Major! So good...more, please!" I moan out, reaching down to play with my clit.

"You want...more? I can give you more." He growls, batting my hand away and thrusting into me much faster.

This new rhythm is much quicker, each stroke of his cock inside me causing his pelvic bone to connect with my clit, my voice raising now at the sudden increase of pleasure. Moaning brokenly, I arch my chest up into him, in the hopes that he will press his body against me. My wish is not granted, though he does decide a change in position is necessary. 

Grabbing my thighs, Dutch pushes my knees up to my chest, slowing his thrusts enough so that he's going much deeper, darkened eyes straying down to watch his cock burying itself inside my hot pussy. A broken scream tears itself from my throat as he suddenly hits a certain spot, somewhere inside me, that had never been hit before, his gaze snapping back up to me curiously.

"Right there, hm? You like that? You like the feel of my cock stretching you out, hitting all of those little sensitive spots, hm? I never knew you were so dirty." He purrs to me, his final degrading words somehow only serving to turn me on more, the insinuation behind them making me rock my hips up into him again. Pounding into that spot, he relishes in the shrieks and whines of total ecstasy that accompany every thrust, my climax quickly building again. 

"I'm close, Major, so close…" I force out, closing my eyes at the fast-approaching orgasm.

"Me too, (Y/n), me too." He groans out, releasing my legs and leaning over my body, kissing me roughly on the lips as his thrusts become more and more erratic.

Kissing back, I allow him to swallow my needy noises as he sticks his tongue into my mouth again, only for him to pull away and kiss down my neck again. Licking over his previous marks, Dutch groans gutturally once more, before speaking to me.

"Cum for me, (Y/n)." He commands, his deep voice resounding in my ears as he bites down on my neck once more. This, combined with another particularly hard thrust, finally tips me over the edge and I orgasm, screaming in ecstasy at the sensation. Moaning, Dutch rocks his hips a few more times and pulls out, releasing onto my thighs and lower abdomen with a strangled growl.

With a pleased sigh, he collapses onto me, only just catching his weight on his forearms as his head falls into the crook of my neck, his heavy breaths fanning hotly over my heated skin. Rolling off of me, he presses a kiss to my cheek, before standing and going to our bags a little way away, grabbing a cloth and returning to me, using said cloth to wipe my thighs and stomach clean of his semen, carefully going between my legs as I lay there and watch, already missing his embrace. Cleaning off his dick, Dutch pulls on his trousers and briefs again, leaning down to help me into my own, scooping me into his arms and going to one of the sleeping mats we've laid out by the fire. Laying me back down, he goes to lie on his own, only to be stopped by my hand on his leg, silently pleading with him to stay with me.

Surprised, he obliges, settling down beside me as I curl into his muscular frame, enjoying the feeling of his strong arms around my smaller body. Resting my head on his chest, I smile up at him as he pulls a thin blanket over us, his grip tightening around me comfortingly.

"That was amazing, (Y/n). I'm sorry for jumping you, but you've got no idea how long I've wanted to do that." He admits, brushing some hair from my forehead.

"Probably not half as long as I've spent wishing you would jump me." I chuckle in response, glad that the darkness that has descended on us conceals the blush dusting my cheeks.

"Really?" Dutch sounds surprised, as if he wasn't expecting me to be happy with what just happened.

"Yeah, I've had feelings for you for the longest time." I confess shyly, hiding my face in his chest.

"Why didn't you say something? I feel the same way!"

"You do?" I lift my head to look at him, squeaking when he suddenly pulls me in for a passionate kiss, his lips smoothing over mine lovingly.

"Of course I do, (Y/n)." He clarifies as he pulls away again, relaxing back onto the mat.

"You don't know how happy that makes me!" 

"You'll just have to show me." He teases, lightly tapping my ass, "And just for the record, call me Dutch."

-

Tag List:

@80s4life @nightime-luna-fairy

[one-boring-person]

Call Me Dutch. (Part 1/2)

Alan "Dutch" Schaefer (Predator) x reader

Warnings: NSFW (ish), swearing, mention of violence, mention of gun usage

Context: The reader and Dutch are holed up in a cave somewhere, and the major is a little bit handsy in his sleep.

A/n: this has been on my ao3 account for ages, so I thought I'd upload it here whilst I have no time to write anything new 😅

Masterlist

As I finally wake up after a dreamless, tense sleep, I notice one thing about my new position: there's arms around me. 

My eyes crack open tentatively, my body going taut as I register the large hands flattened against my abdomen, the hugely muscular arms holding me loosely against a similarly built chest. Hot, heavy breaths fan out across my neck, goosebumps forming on my chilled skin from the somehow intimate heat of them, the lips that are mere inches from touching the same area brushing against me every now and then as my own shoulders rise and fall. A quick glance at the thick wrist at my stomach tells me exactly who is holding me like this - my current companion and superior, Dutch Schaefer.

I frown at this, my previous experiences with him having been far from affectionate, despite our decent friendship, his nature tending to lean more to the callous, rough side, rather than the sweet, caring side. The dynamics of our relationship are sparse, based mostly on the playful insults and sometimes rough messing about, the taller man having taken it upon himself to teach me how to behave more like my male compatriots and therefore fit in better with the others in the group, despite my constant reminding him that I don't need the help. The most physical contact we have is generally if he claps me on the back after a particularly successful mission, though he has always been incredibly protective of me, as if he needs to keep me safe, even though our profession means I'm almost never completely out of danger.

This new behaviour, however, is not entirely unwelcome, as a slightly unfortunate side effect of our friendship has led to me developing a crush on him, which now borders on having feelings for him. Many times, I've dreamt of having him wrap himself around me like this, but I never thought it would actually happen; I've always been certain that he would never have eyes for me. 

Still uncertain, I try to relax again, enjoying the feeling of his muscular arms around me, the sensation of being held within that circle of personal space reassuring and comforting. His natural warmth radiates off of him, the musty smell that clouds him strong in my nostrils as I go to close my eyes again, choosing to try and get more sleep before we have to brave another long day of trudging through thick jungle, trying not to think too much about the full scale of this mission. Unconsciously, his grip around me tightens, and I'm pulled further into his embrace, my back now pressed firmly against his chest, his legs resting just below mine. A blush rises to my cheeks as I realise exactly what position my ass is now in, and just exactly how this has affected the hardened veteran.

Low noises start to escape his throat as his hips suddenly jerk into mine, his bulge now very evident against my ass as he grinds himself into me, his breathing becoming heavier. Unexpected heat rushes to my core, but I ignore it, attempting to wriggle out of his hold so that he doesn't do anything he might regret, only for his hands to move and hold me tighter. They run up and down my body, each one going in different directions as his right hand comes to rest on my breast, and the other just over my crotch, his fingers brushing against the cloth over my core. Squeaking quietly, I feel my cheeks heat up, my hips fighting not to move into his hand, the sensation of his erection grinding against my ass starting to drive me over the edge.

Dutch's lips make contact with the back of my neck, the sleeping man mumbling something into my skin, a gasp escaping my lips as they move over the sensitive area, his hands closing down on my body. This time, I can't help the noise of pleasure that falls from my lips, my body jerking inadvertently into his grip as his fingers start to massage my core gently, the other hand squeezing my breast firmly. Behind me, the veteran tries to move closer to me, only for him to push me onto my front so that he is now laying half on-top of me, his weight on my back nearly crushing my smaller frame. In this new position, he has more leverage, and so moves his body much faster, his hips rocking much more erratically from the new stimulation. Desire pools at my core, my arms struggling to keep my body up as I fight to get out of this pleasurable embrace, knowing that he will hate himself if he finds out what he's doing now.

"...(Y/n)...so...good...ah...yes…" Grunts of pleasure leave Dutch, the words finally intelligible as a shot of disbelief goes through me; he's dreaming about me?

Swallowing tightly, I try to ignore the sudden surge of need that explodes in my stomach, biting back a moan as he kisses my neck properly, the hand at my crotch moving faster as his fingers probe closer to me, trying to find my sensitive spots. His deep voice resonates in my ears, his accent much stronger now as I whimper from the sound of it, always having wondered what it would be like when he got intimate.

"Ah…(Y/n)...more…" He groans into my neck, punctuating each word with a squeeze of my breast, his grip tight but still careful.

"Major, you...ah...need to wake up!" I force out from behind gritted teeth, squeezing my eyes shut as the heel of his hand presses into the spot right above my clit, a bolt of pleasure shooting through me, "Come on, please! You have to wake up!"

When nothing happens, I go to grab at his arms, pulling on them in the hopes of at least drawing them away from my body.

"Major! You have to stop!" I plead with him, writhing in his grip in an attempt to get away, the movements futile thanks to his ridiculously strong hold on me, "Come on, Dutch, please!"

"What...what's going...on?" He finally murmurs, voice husky, words slightly slurred from lack of orientation.

As usual, however, he is quick to wake properly, his body going tense as he realises what position we're in, his breath hitching sharply at the realisation. Swiftly, he moves his hands and climbs off of me, retreating to his own part of the cave we camped out in, expression guilt-stricken and worried.

"Fuck, I'm so sorry, (Y/n), I had no idea! I apologise if I made you uncomfortable, i didn't mean to...It's just been a long while since…I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that." The veteran rambles, before standing up and going outside, most likely to check whether any of our traps have been sprung or not, though it is also highly likely that he's trying to avoid an awkward conversation. As he walks, he adjusts himself, trying to avoid eye contact with me.

Sighing, I shake my head and go to get up, stretching out my sore muscles as I ignore the aching need still coursing through my body.

Part of me had hoped he'd finish the job.

-

Tag list:

@80s4life @nightime-luna-fairy

[one-boring-person]

Got a few more requests for ya!

One Hawkins x civilian reader where the two of them run into the rest of Hawkins’ team and she finally hears all the jokes he’s been telling. Hawkins is mortified and reader is slightly annoyed but decides to tell the team some embarrassing stories about Hawkins as revenge

I hope you like this, and I apologise for the wait!😊💛

We've Heard A Lot About You.

Hawkins x reader

Warnings: moderate alcohol consunption

Masterlist

"Well, well! Look who it is!" A loud, heavily masculine voice interrupts our conversation, the tone friendly but teasing.

Hawkins and I both look up, surprise evident on his face whilst confusion is written on mine, quickly finding the tall man standing beside our table. He's massive - sporting a thick moustache and bulging muscles, his stance that of easy confidence and open arrogance. His grin is friendly, however, and he appears genuinely happy to see the two of us, though I'm not entirely sure who it is until Hawkins stands to greet him.

"Blain! What're you doing here?" He smiles, grasping the other man's hand in a tight grip, before turning to me as I rise from my seat, "This is (Y/n), my girlfriend. (Y/n), this is Blain, one of the guys I work with."

"Nice to meet you." I offer Blain my hand, smiling politely at him. 

He takes my hand and shakes it, gripping it somewhat gently, though I can tell he is perfectly capable of breaking every bone in my palm.

"Nice to meet you, too. I've heard a lot about you." He grins back, glancing at Hawkins as he says this, a knowing look in his eyes.

"There you are, Blain. What took you so lon- oh, Hawkins! We didn't know you'd be here!" Another man, smaller this time, approaches us, greeting Hawkins in the same way Blain did.

"Yeah, we figured this'd be a nice place to go. Are the others with you?" Hawkins laughs, somewhat nervous now, exchanging a look with me.

"Yeah, they're outside. Wanna come say hi?" The newcomer asks, before looking to me, "You must be (Y/n)?"

I nod in affirmation, smiling at him and shaking his outstretched hand.

"I'm Poncho. It's good to finally meet you, I've heard a lot about you." Poncho chuckles, before leading us outside.

As we go, I grab my drink and shoot Hawkins a curious look, aware of the fact that two of his friends have said the same thing about me, without giving any reason as to why. He gives me a reassuring wink, wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me against him. Leaning into him, I smile at the gesture as we walk out into the daylight and up to a table at the far end of the outdoor seating area, where three other men are sitting, beers sat in front of them, cigar smoke curling up from the largest of the group. They look up as we approach, grins broadening at the sight of their comrade, before three pairs of eyes fix on me in curiosity, all except Billy, who I've met before.

"We send you in for beer and what do you bring out?" The large guy greets Hawkins, his accented voice teasing as he stands, showing off his massive build and musculature as he comes over to us, a cigar held lightly in one hand. His smile is friendly and warm as he approaches, grey eyes glittering with mirth.

"Hello, major." Hawkins smiles back, grasping the man's hand as it is offered to him, his own appendage looking pretty small in comparison, "This is (Y/n). (Y/n), this is Major Alan Schaefer."

"Call me Dutch." He winks, shaking my hand firmly with a smile, "It's nice to meet you after everything we've heard about you."

"Oh? Well, it's nice to meet you, too, Dutch." I reply, glancing suspiciously at Hawkins, who blushes a little.

"You gonna introduce us?" One of the others, the last one I haven't met yet, calls out, taking a sip of his beer as he does so.

"Yeah, I'm getting to it." Hawkins mockingly rolls his eyes, turning to me as we all sit down around the table, "That's Mac, and you already know Billy."

"Good to meet you, Mac. And it's nice to see you again, Billy." I shake their hands, taking my seat beside Hawkins, watching as the others all sit at their previous places.

"You two have met?" Mac lifts an eyebrow, gesturing between Billy and I.

"Yeah, I went round to Hawkins' place sometime last year for a drink and I met her then." The dark haired man in question explains, grinning at me.

Nodding, I take a drink of my beverage and relax into the chair, resting my head slightly against Hawkins' arm, which he has wrapped around the back of my seat.

"That right, huh?" Blain butts in, sending a pointed look our way.

"Yeah." Hawkins replies, looking sheepish.

"And how come it's taken you this long to introduce the rest of us?" Poncho questions from his seat, smirking teasingly at his comrade.

"Er, you guys were always busy when I asked." He says, though I can tell he's lying.

"I can't recall you ever asking me." Dutch puts in, also smirking from around his cigar, "I think I know the real reason."

Hawkins blushes at this, pushing his glasses up his nose nervously.

"Oh yeah? And what's that?" He tries to put on a confident facade, watching his friends carefully.

"You really want me to go into detail?" The major asks, lifting an eyebrow as the others chuckle.

Confused, I look over at Hawkins, who is slowly turning bright red. When he doesn't reply, Dutch starts to explain what he means.

At first, I'm shocked at what I'm hearing; I'd never heard anything quite so foul come out of Hawkins' mouth as the jokes I'm hearing now. Some of the things Dutch says are enough to make me blush, the comments and remarks as dirty as any I've ever heard. The others chip in with their own stories, laughing with one another as Hawkins' face turns more and more guilty, my shock quickly turning to something else.

"...so yeah, when we say we've heard a lot about you, we mean it." Poncho grins, looking over at me.

Momentarily lost for words, I glance at Hawkins, noticing how he is doing his best to avoid my gaze, formulating my own plan in my head.

"Yeah, sounds like you have." I chuckle, looking round at them all, "Doesn't sound like you've heard much about him though."

"Enlighten us." Blain grins, gruff voice laced with amusement.

"Oh, I intend to." I shoot Hawkins a conspiratorial glance, relishing in the look of horror on his face, "Did he tell you he's scared of chickens?"

Mac nearly chokes on his drink as he hears this, the others pulling faces of surprise.

"Scared of chickens? Really?" Billy asks, leaning forwards in his seat.

"Oh, yes. He's terrified, aren't you?" I smile sweetly at my boyfriend, ignoring the warning look in his eyes.

"Err, I um…" He tries to cover up, failing as the others try to holdd back their amusement.

"How the hell are you scared of chickens? They're tiny!" Mac exclaims, barely containing himself.

"Now, that is a good story in itself. Wanna hear?" I offer, smirking as the men lean forwards to hear me.

As I retell the story, Hawkins goes even redder in the face, the man fidgeting in his seat, clearly wishing he'd never told the jokes he had. The others find it increasingly hilarious, each of them laughing at the idea, broad grins on each of their faces. Upon reaching the punchline of the story, they burst out in loud guffaws of laughter, making Hawkins blush even harder as he sends me a pleading look, groaning at my smirk.

"That's brilliant!" Poncho wheezes out, wiping a tear out from under his eye, drink long since forgotten.

"Man, and you claim you aren't scared of anything!" Mac laughs, fixing Hawkins with a teasing stare.

"Come on, it's not that funny…" Hawkins tries to cajole them, wincing as they continue to laugh and chuckle.

"Thinking about it, that honestly makes a lot of sense." Dutch says, setting down his beer bottle, "Remember that last assignment? When Hawkins wouldn't go near that one part of the camp? There were chickens there,  weren't there?"

At the memory, the boys start laughing again, clearly finding this highly amusing.

"Now we've got something else to tease you about." Blain grins, pointing at Hawkins jokingly.

"You want some more? I've got tonnes of stories." I smirk, ignoring Hawkins' attempts to stop me.

"Oh, hell yeah we do!" Blain agrees, the others quieting so they can listen.

Hawkins can only sit and listen as his face gets hotter and hotter.

[one-boring-person]

Poncho X reader where the reader is one of the Chopper medics who tends to Duch, Poncho and Anna (because all of them live) and she visit Poncho in the hospital just to make sure he’s ok

I'm sorry this is a bit short, but I hope you like it!😊💛

Stop Talking.

Poncho x reader

Warnings: mention of injury, some blood imagery

Masterlist

My back cracks as I stretch it out, a grunt of relief escaping me as I do so, my body aching from the last few hours, not really having expected the two helicopter trips I'd had to go on. Generally, I'm good at my job, and treating people in a moving aircraft is a skill I've long since honed, but the last couple of trips had been much worse than normal. The final one in particular had been terrible; I have no idea where the muscular man got such an impressive array of injuries, but it had meant I'd had to stay with him constantly throughout the long ride to the hospital, making sure his wounds didn't bleed too much, and that he didn't fall asleep on me. If he had, he most likely would've suffered a whole lot more than he did. 

I shake my head clear of these thoughts as I walk down the bright corridor, rubbing my eyes against the fluorescent lights, wishing they'd tone them down a bit, finding them particularly harsh in my fatigued state. A few people hurry past me, none of them acknowledging my presence, which suits me fine, my focus entirely on reaching the correct ward now rather than trying to explain to someone why someone in military fatigues is walking around (sometimes being a field medic has its downfalls). My boots tap loudly on the floor, striking out a rhythm that keeps me awake, though I can feel my exhaustion starting to creep up on me.

Turning a corner, I finally locate the correct ward, giving the guard standing outside my ID before entering, aware that the feds probably want to keep this on the low-down. I'm glad to find that, apart from the three patients in the room, I'm the only other person there, giving me some privacy for once. 

As I enter, I feel my eyes drawn briefly to the large form of Major Schaefer, the last man we'd pulled from the jungle, on the bed directly to my left, the unconscious veteran finally clean of the thick layer of mud and grime he'd previously been caked in. To his left is Anna, the Guerrilla girl that had come with them, though she is only in now so that the feds can keep an eye on her. She wasn't injured particularly badly, a bit bruised and somewhat bloodied, but I'd still recommended spending the night in the hospital, just to be sure: she'd been very shaken up when we found her and the other inhabitant of the room. 

Having looked over the other two, I now go to the prone figure of the other guy we'd rescued. Somehow, I'd never gotten his name, the man far too agonized to say much in the helicopter, but I'd instantly found myself hoping that he would be ok. Sure, I felt like that with all my patients, but this guy had been on my mind all day, and I couldn't shake it. Eventually, I had followed my instinct and gone to check up on him, despite what I normally tell myself when treating patients.

Nearing him, I stand by the side of his bed and look over him, taking in the peaceful look on his face, muscles totally relaxed in this state. His chest is left clear of his blanket, deep purple bruising appearing just past the collar of his hospital robe, leaving his skin mottled and angry-looking. Other scars and bandaged injuries litter his exposed body, but nothing is particularly serious from what I can see. Of course, it's entirely likely that he has a few broken ribs, I'd been almost certain of that when I first checked him over, but from this angle it's hard to tell, and I don't want to hurt him further by looking. 

As I watch him, his eyelids start to flicker, head twitching a little as his conscience gradually returns to him. A low noise echoes up from his parting lips, the sedative drugs administered to him clearly wearing off now, his previous pain most likely starting to seek back into him, drawing him further into reality than he'd like. Surprised, I step back a bit, staying close by in case he needs help, my heart beating faster as he wakes up properly.

He coughs harshly as he comes to, wincing as the movement wracks his currently frail body, eyes flicking here and there, trying to discern where he is. They quickly come to rest on me, the man fixing me with a stare as he turns his head towards me.

"W...where am...I?" He gasps out, voice cracked from disuse.

"You're in hospital. You've been injured quite badly, I wouldn't try talking too much. Just take it easy." I fill him in, going closer again, smiling down at him reassuringly.

He frowns momentarily, but leans his head back.

"Y...You were...in the chopper…" He manages, ignoring my advice entirely.

"Yeah, I was. Please don't talk too much more, I don't want you to hurt yourself more." I tell him, cocking my head as he gives me what is probably a smirk.

"What's...what's your name?" He asks me, eyes fixed on me, making me blush a little.

"I'm (Y/n), but please, just listen to me. Don't talk so much!"

The injured man nods, only to try sitting up again, at which point I step in and gently push him back down, trying to be as careful as possible.

"What happened to...Dutch...Is he...ok?" He questions me, holding onto my arm nervously, suddenly looking concerned.

"Dutch? You mean the major? He's a bit beaten up, but he'll pull through. Unlike you, if you keep talking." I clarify, giving him a quick grin.

He smiles back, relaxing into his cushion in relief, though he doesn't let go of my arm just yet.

"I'm Poncho, by the way." He says to me, winking at me with a grin.

Rolling my eyes, I force back a smile of my own, carefully removing his hand.

"Well, Poncho, it's good to meet you. Maybe we can continue this conversation when your health doesn't depend on whether or not you get some rest." I prompt him, gesturing to his chest.

As if on cue, he winces, clearly having moved it a little too much.

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea." He admits, smiling.

"Yeah, it is." I respond, knowing already that the two of us will get along very well.