A/N: I did very little to no research regarding the culture/mannerisms of yautja so I kinda just winged this one, you guys. I needed to get this idea out of my head, even if it was done poorly. It was haunting me for days! 😭 Enjoy! ✌️
As a human, you lacked the ability to smell any change in pheromones. This made it hard to distinguish moods and social cues amongst the yautja, a race of alien warriors that kidnapped you from earth and forced you into servitude weeks ago.
This developed sense of smell they possessed would soon be your damnation.
You were going about your duties when you spotted him. Flanked by his entourage of warriors, The Warlord Predator was a marvel to behold, his massive and scarred frame depicting a being with monstrous strength and power. You've seen him battle at the arena and witnessed his physical prowess amongst his clan. He was truly a force to be reckoned with. You moved out of the way, providing them a wide berth, sticking as close to the wall of the cave as you waited for them to pass. You swore you felt the ground tremble with each of the yautja's languid steps, the audible scrape of his jagged cape trailing behind him.
Unbeknownst to you, you had started ovulating that morning, your female pheromones running rampant in the air and causing the nearest males of the group to glance your way. You were not aware of the physiological changes in your body, so you were oblivious to their sudden interest.
Then the Warlord Predator caught a whiff of your scent and nearly snapped his neck to look back at you. His intense stare unnerved you, your body on edge as his eyes trailed over your feminine curves in a seemingly hungry manner. Thinking you must have done something wrong, you quickly lowered your head and tried to make yourself appear as small as possible.
Your heart kicked into overdrive the second he stepped towards you. Trying to calm your breathing was difficult, your eyes widening with terror when his sharpened feet came into view and you felt the heat emitting from his body. He was like a burning furnace, your body sweating from the close proximity of the menacing male. You could hear inquisitive clicks and low rumbles from him, his curiosity evident as he tilted his head to observe you carefully.
A sudden, musky scent attacked your senses. It was a scent unlike any other, earthy and... intoxicating. Before you could question it, you felt your mind turn heady as your senses grew lax with the powerful smell. It was like a drug, your mind losing any rational thought as the scent nearly suffocated you. No longer were you tense, waiting with baited breath if he would kill you. Instead, you lay back against the jagged wall and mewled when the male pressed himself eagerly against your smaller frame. Everything felt sensitive, from the top of your head to the tip of your toes. You nearly choked on your saliva when you felt the hardened bulge on his loincloth dig below your chest. Inhaling deeply, you let out a weak gasp at the deliciousness of his scent and felt your body react strongly in turn. The small nub between your legs pulsated so fiercely you had to clench your thighs together to alleviate the unbearable sensation.
"W-what are... you...doing to m-me..?" You breathed out the words. You shook your head to clear your mind, only to let out a groan when he forced a knee between your legs and had you straddle his thigh. It placed your naked vulva in direct contact with his reptilian-skin, your feminine juices soaking him in your scent and making him purr with satisfaction.
The yautja glances down at your half lidded eyes and panting mouth, eyeing the strings of saliva with rapt attention before grabbing you by the neck and lifting you close to his face. He was not gentle, nearly choking you to death and causing you to squirm in discomfort. You let out a pained whine, hoping to receive some mercy as he dangled you feet above the ground. His mandibles clicked with the movements of his growling mouth, his language undecipherable to your ears. In a chilling tone, the translator around your neck lit up with his response.
It’s after a battle and he’s still covered in sweat with his enemies’ blood on his hands.
And he wants to know what a human would feel like wrapped around cock.
He takes no hesitation in grabbing you, stripping you, putting you down on a surface. But you notice, that despite his violent nature, he doesn’t hurt you. He could rip you apart, split you in two but his curiosity keeps you intact and whole.
But his lust keeps you pinned. Keeps him rutting against you until the heat between your legs forces a moan from your lips. He laughs, tusks clacking and he knows he has you. Pathetic and wanting your captor to do as he pleases.
Sweat or slick isn’t near enough to accommodate his size and he has to use lube. It’s everywhere and wet and suddenly he’s everywhere and wet; arms on either side of you, sweat pooling off his chest. His cock pushes into you, barely an inch, then two. He’ll split you in two, one way or another.
But he doesn’t thrust in, not out of kindness or even size. You realize when you hear him sigh in a way you’ve never heard him before. Soft, strained with want and desire, but succumbing to your heat, your tightness that’s too much for him. He’s never been inside a human’s tight hole and you’re his first.
It does something to you, stirs in your stomach. It hurts when you arch your hips back, to force him to slide deeper, to take just one more inch.
You’re the one to make the warlord unravel before he can truly complete his conquest.
He comes hard, inside, on you, your hair, the bed.
He pulls back and leaves you gaping, filled and spilling his cum. Breathless. You’re both breathless.
But he grabs you.l and roars. There are guards by the door who heard, maybe saw, their leader last no more than 5 minutes with a wretched human.
“Ooman sorcery.” He grows to you and your collar translates for you. “I have mounted many before you and you are no acception.”
Except you are. He pins you again, forces you to look at him, your face in his claws. He could crush your skull but he leans in close. He can smell him; the earth, sweat, blood, iron. He overwhelms you, stirring the unsatisfied heat in your stomach.
“You will fit me.” He threatens, promises. “I will not be undone by a human. I will train you. And I will have you.”
Summary: You slowly start to notice the little things your King does for you.
You realise the Grendel King does not sleep the way you do long before he ever lies beside you.
At first, you wake up to find him standing near the entrance of the home he built for you. Always in the same place.
His armour catches the low firelight, silently guarding a space no one else is allowed to enter.
“You do not have to watch me all night,” you say once.
“I do,” he answers calmly.
That is all he says.
It takes time for you to notice the pattern.
The fire never dies. Not once.
Even when the night is long and cold, even when storms roll over the stronghold and the air turns sharp, the warmth remains steady. When you ask how, he simply shrugs.
“I wake, I tend it.”
As if this is the most natural thing in the world. Yet you know, it is not his duty to tend to fire. Yet, when you sleep, he chooses to do it.
It makes your heart beat faster.
The clan hears him before they see him.
When he speaks among them, his voice is thunder. Orders delivered without hesitation.
You hear it echo through stone and bone.
But when he turns to you, it changes.
He changes.
His voice lowers. Softens. As though volume itself could hurt you.
You notice it one evening when a dispute breaks out.
His tone rises, sharp and commanding, until he catches sight of you.
The sound stops instantly.
He turns away from you, finishes his command quietly, then returns as if nothing happened.
“You did not need to stop,” you say.
“Yes, I did.”
The clan notices. They say nothing.
Inside the home, his trophies line the walls. Skulls. Armour. Proof of battles won and lives ended. They are arranged carefully, almost reverently.
But the weapons are absent.
You realise it slowly. The blades you know he carries are never left within reach. The spear is secured high. The knives are locked away. Even his gauntlets are placed out of sight when he removes them.
One evening, you ask him why.
“You are here,” he says simply. As if it's the most obvious thing.
It is not an apology. It is a choice.
The first night he lies beside you, he does not mean to fall asleep.
He lowers himself onto the edge of the bed, armour removed, back stiff with unfamiliarity. One arm rests between you, deliberately unmoving. You feel the heat of him without pressure, presence without demand.
You wake later to weight.
His arm is around you, heavy and instinctive. His breathing is slow, deep. His helm rests on the floor, forgotten.
For a moment, you are afraid to move.
Then his grip tightens slightly, protective even in sleep, and you understand.
When he wakes, he withdraws at once, eyes sharp with awareness.
“I did not plan,” he begins.
“It is alright,” you say.
He nods once. Says nothing more.
But the next night, he lies down beside you without hesitation.
He does not announce his care. He does not demand recognition.
He waits. He warms. He guards.
He softens only where no one else can see.
And in the quiet of the home he built, the King proves himself not through command, but through constancy.
Summary: It’s been years since you’ve seen Earth, not that you’re mad about it… You’re family has cut you off a month before you had killed that Yautja on accident, which had led to your disappearance. Years in the arena, and the King had grown a liking to you, making you his queen.. Now, you were standing beside him to view another battle…
…Was that your brother in the arena?
Bold= Yautja language
The roars of the crowd filled you head as you straightened your back, placing your mask on your face and turn to look at your husband. His eyes trialed up and down at you, before giving you a sharp nod and huff of approval. He gave a command to the guard next to him, the guard tapped the screen on the ship, allowing the door to fall open.
The two of you step out, your husband, the king, proudly accepting the slits of blood the crowd honors you with. You cringe, you always hated that, you never liked that your people hurt themselves for you, but it was their tradition, you couldn’t change it.
It’s why you wore the mask, you were never good at hiding your face.
It took you years to become accustomed to their lifestyle. Here the women are treated differently, they’re treated so well. It felt nice to be respected, but strange to be feared. The language was what you struggled with the most, thankfully you’ve become fluent, only using your native language when it was necessary. Once you had adapted to their standards, you became one of them, even more so when you killed the xenomorph during one of your battles in the arena.
Your heart clenched at the thought… you never ment to kill that Yautja… it was chasing after your friend.. you had to defend him…
But at the same time… if it hadn’t been for that, you wouldn’t have met him.
You peek to your side, admiring your husband as he spoke.
You don’t necessarily need to come to these events… you just like to admire him as his pride shined around him.
A loud roar interrupted your thoughts.
Turning your head to the arena, you pause. A xenomorph? Against three people… One in a vietnamese army uniform, another in kimono, and last… a simple pair of jeans and shirt.
“A xenomorph? Isn’t that a bit to harsh?” You ask your husband, keeping your gaze downward as you silently hope for their survival.
“You are too empathetic. It could get you killed.” He spoke, his clicks and growls soft. You knew he meant it in a caring way, but it still poked you a little wrong. You stayed quiet, focusing your attention on the fight ahead of you.
The person in the kimono was dead. Your arms tense, you could never handle seeing them have such painful deaths… but you couldn’t do anything… can’t do anything. Can’t interfere…
The modern man seemed to be doing the best, driving the xenomorphs attention to him while the soldier runs away—
Your heart stopped.
That man. That modern man.
You shift through different visions in your mask, ignoring the strange look your husband was giving you. You shift and shift and shift- until you unknowingly let out a growl of frustration and rip off your mask.
“What is it?” The king asked, though it sounded like a demand.
Your clear view confirmed your dread.
The modern man was your brother.
You took a step forward, only to stop when an a hand gripped your arm. Your husband held a gentle yet firm hold on you, “Do not interfere. What is it?” His body language was threatening, but his eyes were concerned.
“That’s my brother! I have to—!”
“Stay. Put. Your brother could die without honor if you interrupt.” He orders, tugging you back gently.
“I don’t want him to die!” You snarl back.
“He and your family have dishonored you! They left you! Let him use this to prove himself.”
You let out a huff, your mind racing with thoughts. You tugged your arm back, moving to stand next to him again, yet moving your gaze to your feet as you reapply your mask.
He gives you a great full huff before turning back to the fight.
The second his tension leaves his body.
The second his muscles relax.
You lunge forward.
Using your wrist blades, you anchor yourself to the wall as you slide down to the arena. Ignoring the angry roar of your husband behind you. The crowd lets out sounds of confusion as you roll into the ground, standing up calmly as you dust yourself off.
You walk past the shivering soldier, keeping a small distance away from the battle of your brother and xenomorph. To your left on the ground was a gun, an old gun from the 18th century.
‘No wonder my brother isn’t using his weapon, this shit is rigged…’
You give yourself a mental note to have a talk with your husband about that.
The xenomorph tackled your brother down, pinning him as he opens his mouth. The man jolts and twists, but the alien doesn’t budge. He could only stare as the aliens inner jowls prepare to strike. He closed his eyes…
…Only to snap them open upon hearing loud squeals of pain.
You gripped the xenomorphs tongue tight, ripping it off your brother with a sharp twist of your body. The xenomorph tumbled to the ground, quickly recovering as it gave you a shout of anger.
It charges at you, jumping to pin you down—
—SHING!—
You impaled it with your staff before quickly dropping it to not get any acid on you.
The crowd roared with cheers, confused but proud to see their queen killed a xenomorph once again.
“Wha— what even—?” The man behind you stuttered.
You turn to face him.
It felt so surreal to see him again.
His eyes flicked to your exposed arms and legs, “Y-you’re a human…? R-right? What—?”
You walk up to him, gripping him by the collar and lifted. Making sure he is in everyone’s view.
‘“This is mine! My servant! Touch it and you die!” You don’t have to heart to kill your people, but your husband does.
You drop him, taping on your wrist band–only to pause when you notice him try to crawl away.
You stepped on him, putting enough pressure to stop him but not to hurt him too much.
A hatch in the ground opened behind you, two guard on their own hovering bike pulled up next to you. You turn to the one on your right, ordering him to take the soldier back to cryo sleep. He zoomed past you with ease.
You turn to the one on your left, picking up your brother by his collar once more and throwing him behind the guard before hopping on behind your brother. “Take us to my home.” You order, the guard gives you a nod.
*
*
*
*
“What did you do.” Your husband—the king—spoke, his anger radiating off the walls of your shared home.
“I saved my brother” You replied, back facing said brother as he was being held down by a device’s hologram.
“What are you planning to do once he knows who you are?! Are you just going to free him?! After all he and your family did to you?!” He roared, stepping into your personal space, yet you refused to move.
“Did you know he was here?”
That question made him freeze.
You felt yourself go slack, only to tense up yet again.
“You knew? You knew and you didn’t tell me?!” It was your turn to step into his space.
“Why didn’t you tell me?! So what if they cut me off I still care for them! I don’t want them to die! I love them! I can’t believe you lied to me! You should have told me!”
He stared at you. Only to avert his eyes, “…I cannot take you seriously with your accent… It is cute…”
You froze.
“You’re sleeping outside tonight.” You turn away.
“WHAT?!” He roared.
“You heard me, in fact leave now.” You refused to face him, keeping your arms crossed as you huff.
“You do not order me, human! I am—!”
“—Going to have a missing wife soon if i don’t leave this room in five. four. three…”
He lets out a huff of disbelief. Growling at you before stomping outside, grumbling to himself.
Once he was gone, you face your brother. You’ve never seen him so scared before… and yet he can still hide it pretty well.
“I am sorry..” Jeez, it’s been a while since you’ve last spoke this language.
“…What..?” He asked.
You slowly reach for your mask. Pausing as your fingers reach contact.
‘Should you be doing this? What will he say? What will he do?…. But god damn it i want to see my brother clearly one last time…’
You remove your mask, clipping it to your lion cloth.
His eyes widen, staring at you as if you were a ghost, your name comes out a whisper…
“I don’t.. You… You were pronounced dead…” He said, his eyes never leaving you.
“I am sorry… I will get you home.. I promise..” Your throat closed up as you choked back the tears… He looked older now, tired, but he was here..
You step on the device, letting the hologram zip away and freeing him from his restraints. He stood up, looking at you.
“… Im so sorry, for everything…” He said, wrapping his arms around you as he let out a weep.
You return the hug, tears of your own spilling over. The room filled with the sound of quiet sobs, the two of you stayed together until your cries turned into sniffles.
He pulled away first, giving a small laugh as he wiped his tears, “What are you wearing?” He huffed out of amusement.
You giggled, “It’s my armor”
He let out a snicker, “What’s with the accent?”
“Oh, I have not spoken this language in years, i only use it when it’s necessary, which is rare” You explain.
Your brother lets out an overwhelmed huff, “I…. I have so many questions…” He lifts a hand to his hair, messing with it nervously.
You smile, “Me too, sit” You motion to a chair next to the island.
“You go first, i’m sure you want answers fast” You say as you pull up a chair for yourself.
He sits, fiddling with his hands, “Okay uhh… Where are we?”
“This is Yautja Prime, a dangerous planet for most, but home for the Yautja”
“And yautja are..?”
“The aliens you just saw” You clarify, “Or in their case, we are the aliens” You giggle.
“How did you get here?” He asked, brushing off your try at easing the tension.
“I accidentally killed one of their kind trying to protect a friend, whenever you kill a Yautja, you are taken to the Arena so they see how strong you truly are”
“But you aren’t treated the same way” Your brother spoke accusingly.
“No,” You confirmed, “… But i cannot tell you why.”
Your brother scoffed, “Why not? I’m your brother.”
You hesitant, “… I cannot trust you..”
“What?” He let out a sound of disbelief, “We’re family, why don’t you trust me?”
“It’s been years since we have seen each other, and our last meeting ended badly, i am sorry, but i cannot risk it..” You tried to reason.
“You can’t be serious…”
You refused to break eye contact, “Let’s move on.”
He grits his teeth, shuffling a bit in his seat before giving you a small nod, “Alright… Why am i here?”
“You killed a Yautja, so you were to figh—“
“—fight in the arena yeah yeah i get it.” He cut you off, that rubbed you wrong, but chose not to comment on it.
“How did you kill it?” You ask.
“I thought i was asking questions?” He snarks.
You furrow your brows, unpleased with his attitude. He notices.
“What? You think that I wouldn’t get offended after you admitted that you don’t trust me?”
You don’t respond, you only stare as you wait for his next move.
“All those years. All those fucking years we spent together. We cried over you, we thought you were dead— We held a fucking funeral for you and you say you can’t FUCKIN—!”
You smack a hand over his mouth, gripping it harshly as you stand over him.
“Watch your tone… He is listening…” You whisper, nodding your head to the closed door a few feet away from you, knowing your husband is over hearing everything.
“Raise your voice, and he kills you… I cannot protect you from him.” You warn, your heart aching at the sight of his terrified eyes.
You slowly peel your hand away, moving back to sit on your chair again.
Your brothers eyes are locked on the door, they flickered back to you, and lock on the door again.
“He will not hurt you unless necessary” You try to comfort.
“Necessary in your definition or his?”
“…His..” You confess.
His eyes finally look away from the door, “…You’re special to him, aren’t you?”
“I am his servant.” You lie.
“No.. No he cares about you way too much for you to just be a servant.” Your brother wasn’t stupid, you knew that. He had a phD, the smartest one in the family.
Lying was the only way out.
“I am his longest lasting servant, he kills those who make simple mistakes. I was trained before being sold to him.” Another lie.
He stared at you in disbelief, processing all the information you just gave him. “How are you not dead? You’re as clumsy as a newborn” He says, still not convinced on the servant explanation.
“I was trained. If i made mistakes…” You lifted your arm, removing your armor. Your brother let out a small, horrified gasp upon seeing the scars littering your skin.
These scars were from your days in the arena, but for now, you had to play into this role in order to keep your people safe. If he were to tell anyone about your importance to the clan, it could bring great threats to your people.
His eyes trailed over each scar, before moving to the rest of you. Your top left a bit of your collarbone and stomach exposed, your legs were only covered by your lion cloth and sandals—
—Wait.
Now looking down at your lion clothes, you notice two large, discretely hand shaped bruises on your top inner thighs.
‘Fuck. fuck. fuckfuckfuck those were from last night! Please don’t notice please don’t notice please don’t notice—!’
“Holy shit…” Your brother stares at said bruises, you were too late to cover them.
You place your mask back on face too fast to go unnoticed. You stand from your chair, feeling the heat of your face radiating off the mask.
“What— Where are you going?” He quickly stood after you, grabbing your arm to stop you.
“I’ve been summoned” You lie.
“How do you know?”
“The mask.” You tore your arm out of his grip, turning to walk out the door.
Your brother shouted your name as softly as he could, making you pause. You turn your head, keeping your body somewhat facing the door.
His face was twisted in remorse, eyes till locked on the bruises on your thighs.
“Did it… Were you…” His voice came out quiet, too scared to say the actual words. You knew what he was trying to say…
You didn’t respond.
You turned to the door and walked, pulling it open before closing it gently behind you.
“How did it go?” Your husband asks, leaning against the wall next to the door. His arms crossed as he stared at his tribe in front of him.
You take a deep breath, turning to face your husband.
“He believes you rape me.”
A pause.
“He WHAT?!” He straightens from his relaxed position, facing you fully, “How did this happen?! I told you to go with the servant lie when you are being interrogated!”
You rip off your mask, dropping it to the ground and revealing your embarrassed blush staining your face. “Yes of course i went with that! But do you remember what you told me to wear today?!”
You motion towards your thighs, “This lion cloth and armor only covers my intimates! Definitely not evidence of last night!”
He tilts his head in confusion, “It covers the bruises, i do not see the problem”
“Not when i sit down! Now he believes you rape me.” You cross your arms out of frustration.
“This is a problem.” He spoke after a moment of silence.
You nod as you release a sigh.
“What now?” You ask.
Your husband ponders a bit, turning to you once he had a plan, “Tell the truth.”
“What?! If he tells the humans about us they could us me to get to you and the people!”
“Let them come. It will only prove we are stronger.”
“But—!” You get interrupted by a large hand gently patting your head.
“It will be fine, trust me.” His hand trailed down, cupping your face gently as he slightly leaned down. His thumb rubbed your cheek, you reach your hands up to hold his arm as you stare up at him.
You sigh, “Alright… i trust you..”
He gives an approving click, leaning his head slightly lower.
“First… Let me see the bruises..”
You quickly pull away, “Nope, we both know that once you start something we have to finish it…” A blush rose yet again.
