X Reader: Grunk

You took it with shaking hands.

He released your hand, and you immediately missed the warmth again. You shoved the feeling down and busied yourself with checking the bunker’s supplies. Ration bars. Water recycler. A single emergency blanket, designed for one human.

He hadn’t moved since the impact. The massive, reptilian-humanoid had braced himself against the buckled hull plating, one three-fingered hand clamped around a support beam, the other curled loosely at his side. His scales, a deep charcoal streaked with cobalt, caught the dim light like oil on water. He was watching you. grunk x reader

Grunk looked at the blanket, then at the bunks, then back at you. “Body heat is more efficient than insulation. You will sleep against me.”

Damn the collar. Damn his hearing. Damn everything. You took it with shaking hands

“Observant,” you muttered, checking your own readings. “I’m not afraid. I’m calculating.”

The corner of Grunk’s mouth twitched. It might have been a snarl. It might have been a smile. With Grunks, it was impossible to tell. Ration bars

Grunk crouched beside you, peering at the panel. His breath misted in the cold air. “My scales conduct low-level bioelectricity. It will not be comfortable, but it will work.”

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.