#fugitive x reader

You have always been curious about the Yautja anatomy. That was ever since you met Fugitive in the lab that day at the Stargazer Project. They brought him in, found him hurt and wounded. While strapped down, you carefully treated his wound with as much gentleness as possible, while ignoring the growls and hisses he gave you. Eventually he stopped when he realised you were not a threat (and gave him a stern scolding).

And now fast forward, you are no longer on Earth but back at his home while studying on some logs and files about the Yautja biology and culture. Fugitive gave you unlimited access to his files seeing how you were very curious about everything and had this desire to pursue as much knowledge as you can. He would usually stay with you, holding you close in his arms as he listened to you read, but today he went on hunting for some food so you were studying all alone. Usually you would pout that he wasn’t here with you, you actually enjoyed the cuddles while doing your studies but today was a different story.

Why? Because the topic you decided to read today was about the breeding season.

And boy was it an interesting topic to read. In fact, you were getting a bit excited while studying about it. You were so engrossed into it that you didn’t hear the door open and someone peering over your shoulder, taking a look at what you’re reading.

“Interested about how Yautjas breed, I see.”

You jumped, startled by a voice in your ear and tried to close down the file but it was too late, he already saw the contents in it. You turned around to look at him, scratching the back of your neck as you chuckled nervously.

“Oh, I didn’t notice you coming back so soon. How was the hunt?” You asked him, trying to change the subject.

It didn’t work of course.

“Good. I see you were enjoying your study today.” He lifted his right upper mandible up into a smirk. You blushed and looked away, embarrassed as if you were watching some Yautja porn or something.

“Yes, it was very….informative. We should cut up the meat you brought and store it.”

You tried to distract him again but of course that also didn’t work as he placed his hands on the table, caging you in. You can see that gleam in his eyes and know what it means.

He’s horny.

And that predatory look he gave you was turning you on.

“Done that.” He quickly said, giving you no room to escape. No, you were his prey now and he knows you’re excited. He can smell your arousal from a mile away.

“Then-”

“Don’t try to escape, little mate. I know this topic aroused you, I can smell it. So, how about we have a one on one lesson in practice.” He growled softly in your ear. You swear, you almost melted from that.

“Teach me then. Show me how Yautjas breed.”

"You know, not everyone is as tall as you. Slow down!" By now, I definitely must be annoying the yautja stalking ahead of me, his steps becoming faster as he tries to decrease the time we have to spend together. 

In way of response, Fugitive brings his hand down on a branch, causing it to flick back and slap me across the torso. Grunting, I stagger backwards, hand grasping at the front of my gear as the air is knocked from my lungs. Up ahead, I can hear the predator let out an amused series of clicks and growls, his head turning to take in my discomfort, to which I flip him off, not that he knows the meaning of the gesture.

"Asshole." I grumble, straightening after checking the gauntlet on my wrist for any damage caused by the branch. Thankfully, the vital data all reads normal. 

"Asshole!" Fugitive mimics, voice twisted and garbled as he imitates me.

Scowling, I keep quiet, falling into step behind the tall yautja as I do so, looking out for the odd mess of plants native to this particular planet, trying to avoid the ones I know to be dangerous. My clothing will protect me, I know, but it still pays to be careful: I've known people who get caught unawares by the nature of foreign planets. Generally they never last long in this profession. Hunters, particularly those who like to keep up with their alien competitors, need to be swift, clever and precise, it doesn't do to be clumsy.

Sighing, I swat away a smaller branch, once again glad for the presence of my helmet as it swings back and catches me round the back of my head, drawing a curse from me. Internally, I'm praying that this leg of the hunt won't last too much longer, as Fugitive and I really don't get along too well. Something just never quite clicked with us, so this decision to group us off together made by the others in the party has been a particularly unpleasant one for us - and not very successful, either. Neither of us have caught anything today, a fact we'll both keep quiet if nothing changes. 

It's sweltering in this jungle, my brow and body drenched in sweat from the sheer heat, making for a very uncomfortable hike through the tough terrain. Naturally, Fugitive doesn't have a problem with this, given his species' particular preference for warmer climates, striding ahead with ease as he stealthily moves through the foliage, dreadlocks swinging with each move of his head. Even with his armour strapped in place he doesn't seem to be affected by the heat, nothing in his movements betraying any possible discomfort. Watching him now, I have to begrudgingly admire the fluidity of his actions, eyeing the flex of his rippling muscles and sinuous limbs, everything about him calculated and careful, clearly on the alert for prey. 

Unfortunately, I have a bad feeling that we won't find any prey today, which means the yautja is not going to be happy.

Being so deep in my thoughts, I don't notice the ground suddenly give way to a cliff until my foot swings precariously over the edge. Shocked, I allow a sharp sound of surprise to escape me, reeling back from the edge before I fall to the ground, far below. 

Glancing up at the predator beside me, I lift an eyebrow before speaking.

"What do we do now?" I ask him, chewing my lip as I observe the surroundings: I can't see any way of getting down safely. 

Fugitive clicks his mandibles beneath his helmet, sounding as if he's stating the obvious. 

"I can't understand you." I clarify, resisting the temptation to roll my eyes.

With what can only be described as an audible sigh, the yautja takes a step back from the edge, before he suddenly pitches himself off of it. 

Frowning in shock, I scramble back to the edge, a cold bolt of fear going through me at the thought that he may not have made the jump down safely. 

Of course, he's standing at the bottom, looking up at me expectantly, perfectly fine. 

Huffing in frustration, I glare down at him.

"How do you propose I get down?" I call down to him, gesturing to the steep drop. 

He makes a beckoning gesture, arms outstretched. Immediately, I know what he means, my heart dropping in my chest at the distance between us, my mind refusing to believe he means what I think he means.

"No! No! That'll kill me!" I shout back at him, shaking my head furiously.

Clearly exasperated, Fugitive tries again, gesturing more fervently now.

"No!" I yell down at him, scowling.

The yautja nods, roaring up to me to reassure me as he widens his stance, arms out and ready to catch me. Watching him, I feel an odd sense of trust well up in me, so I curse myself and line myself up with the cliff, getting inline with Fugitive's position on the ground below. Taking a deep breath, I steel myself, before I take a few steps and leap from the edge of the cliff, my body feeling weightless as the ground falls away from me. 

Fighting the urge to scream, I allow my arms to flail to slow my descent, hoping to hell I didn't misinterpret his instruction. Adrenaline courses through me, each nerve in my body on fire as I hurtle through the air towards the ground, quickly picking up speed as I go. 

Just as I start to think he won't get me, Fugitive steps forwards, arms ready to snatch me from the air, which he does efficiently, pulling me into him to secure me. Instinctively, my arms go around his neck, legs closing around his waist, my body pressed flush to his. 

For a moment, I have to recover, my breathing rough and heavy as I catch it again, body heaving in the yautja's grip. He makes no move to put me down just yet, keeping his hands where they are: clamped around my hips and ass, squeezing lightly. I can't see his expression behind his mask, but I can guess it, even as a conflicted ripple of awkwardness floods through me, my body screaming at me to stay in the warm circle of his embrace, whilst my head is yelling at me to get out before I make things worse. His body heat seeps through my clothes into me, making it difficult to focus until he finally puts me back down again, hands lingering on my body.

Blushing, I look away, almost wishing we could continue the embrace, though I know it will most likely never be spoken of again. Already, Fugitive has moved off, acknowledging my thanks as I call after him, cleafly not thinking too much of the embrace except that it was necedsary to my survival. I can't stop the lurid thoughts swirling through my head as I chase after him, biting them back as I catch up again, falling into step beside him. 

"Not so invulnerable, then, hm?" I comment after a few more minutes, laughing nervously at my own words.

I don't get time to laugh properly as I suddenly find myself pinned to a tree, a leg shoved between mine to keep me up. Eyes wide, I lift a hand to grasp at the arms holding me in place, ashamed of the fact I can feel desire starting to flood my system at his closeness and roughness. 

"Don't call me that." The predator almost snarls at me, the sound sending bolts of need through me, despite the awkward nature of them.

Dumbly, I nod at him, trying to ignore my body's reaction to the proximity of the yautja, not quite recovering properly until he's dropped me back down again.