“It is not a suggestion.”
Grunk uncurled himself from the beam. Even in low gravity, he moved with a deliberate, heavy grace. He was nearly seven feet of muscle, claw, and scale, and every time he stood to his full height, you remembered exactly how fragile humans were.
“Come,” he said simply.
“No one will ask,” he said. “We are the only ones left.” The outpost was a tomb.
You held your breath, counting the seconds until the backup generator kicked in. One. Two. Three. Nothing. The only illumination came from the faint bioluminescent glow of your suit’s cuff display and the soft, amber eyes reflecting from across the room. grunk x reader
They led you to separate shuttles. Grunk’s frame wouldn’t fit in the human transport, they said. He’d have to take the cargo hauler.
You held up the blanket. “Well. This is going to be cozy.” “It is not a suggestion
You hated how much you didn’t hate it.
“Status?” you asked, your voice steadier than you felt. “Come,” he said simply