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mugetsu-cosplay-01-blog · 20 days ago

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I'm Going Under

Neil Vana x F!Reader

6.3k words.

Summary: A near miss with a tar pit evokes consequences and confessions.

Please check the warnings below before continuing on to the fic!

Tags/Warnings: 18+ MDNI. Canon typical violence. Reader and Neil are porters/established relationship/strained friendship/friends to lovers. Description of injury. Hurt/Comfort. Angst. Mentions of Lucy and Neil's past relationship. No BB's because I didn't know how to effectively implement them (I'm sorry 😭). Confessions of feelings. Oral sex (f receiving), vaginal fingering, clitoral stimulation, unprotected p in v (my headcannon is reader is on birth control if that's still a thing after the stranding?) Probably a ton of Canon divergent inaccuracies as I am taking creative liberties and making stuff up along the way. Reader is Mexican, brown skinned and described as having curly hair long enough to put in a braid and fall past her shoulders.

A/N: Any grammar mistakes (and I know there's a ton, but I didn't get a beta reader for this so I'm just flying by the seat of my pants for this one) are entirely mine, same for spelling mistakes. I'm currently learning Mexican through Memrise and using this very helpful online dictionary and I'm in the very early stages of learning so again, any mistakes are entirely mine but I did double check through online resources (not Google translate! never that) so hopefully what I have is accurate, but please feel free to correct me if anyone does pick up on any mistakes, the same for the sporadic Italian dialogue. I haven't played either Death Stranding game, but I'm in a deep hyperfixation with watching playthroughs on YouTube and tiktok edits of Neil have enraptured me, so I blame any and all inaccuracies on horny brain lmao.

Banner made by me on canva

Act I - The Tar Pit

Your feet hurt; everything hurts, actually. The miles you'd walked today alone were more than you'd been able to in the past couple of months, recovering from a broken arm hadn't been straightforward, you'd been unable to take on assignments for a little over two months and your entire body was feeling it.

Neil keeps a watchful eye beside you, each small quake that almost knocks you off your feet; he's there, a warm gloved hand in the crook of your elbow, keeping you upright until the tremors subside. Always waiting, always on hand, just as he's always been.

Despite that, something had shifted between the two of you recently, he'd taken on more of the workload while you were out of the game, spending more and more time away from base. Sure, he'd check in on you when he did return, but it was few and far between, brief and business-like almost. You put it down to your mind playing tricks on you at first, the pain pills sending you a little loopy, perhaps, but with the way he drops your arm the second the ground is still again — like touching you burns him —says there's more to it, and it's eating you up inside. The silence between you stretches as you traverse the unstable and rocky landscape, an occasional muttering about the cargo being too heavy from him, a swift glance here and there, but gone is the flowing conversation and the banter the two of you had once shared, the camaraderie that forced you to bond as partners on your missions across the barren wasteland — turned to ashes, by what? You don't know, but you've had about enough.

Neil makes it about 10ft ahead of you before he realizes the crunch of your boots on gravel behind him has ceased, turning to see you glued to the spot in the middle of the clearing, a fire in your eyes that he's seen before, but only directed towards others, anyone but him.

The furrow between his brow deepens, even your presence just seems to annoy him these days. "What do you think you're doing? If we stop now we're never going to make it before nightfall, this is your first delivery run since your injury and if you think I'm going to take the blame for-"

You cut him off, tired of his demeanor towards you, unwilling to hear whatever speech he has planned, you want — no, you need your friend back. "What the fuck happened while I was out? And don't try to bullshit me Neil, I know you." You're stern, unwavering, even if inside your stomach is in knots, dread and anxiety twisting within. "Something has changed, you've changed. And I want to know what."

Silence falls between the two of you again, a caw of a bird or a distant rumble filling the spaces in between while he just looks at you, really looks at you. The curls that had been neatly swept back into a braid now loose, the strands framing your face frizzy from humidity and sweat, and still you're one of the most beautiful things that exists on this hellscape of a planet — to him, though he's never outright expressed that.

"Neil." You prompt after a long moment, tone not as sharp as before and a pleading in your eyes that feels like a gut punch.

He just has to rip the bandaid off and come clean. It's the only thing to do, it's the best thing to do.

"I... I met someone. Her name was Lucy." The words feel heavy on his tongue, like he's admitting to committing a crime, the same feeling of guilt that made his chest feel tight every time he and Lucy were intimate. Neil tried to convince himself that it was nothing to do with you, but looking at you now, that denial isn't holding much weight.

Now you're the one who feels winded, the air around you feeling thicker and unbreathable, he must see the briefest of flashes of hurt on your face, barely a glimpse, more than you'd care to show to him right now, he steps towards you and you take a step back. 10ft may as well be oceans apart right now, and part of you wishes it were. You've walked the most treacherous paths while working as a porter, avoiding detection from BT's that could take your life from you within a split second. Staying composed in the face of distressing times is nothing to you, so you'll treat this all the same. Even if the urge to ask questions is screaming within your brain, you're just friends, or you were until he manufactured this distance between you.

Poised, shifting the cargo on your back as you straighten up. "Well, I hope she makes you very happy." There was no bite to your tone, no heat behind your words, they were genuine, you did want him to be happy, even if the acrid aftertaste of your sentiment lingered.

"It's not... Like that... She wasn't..." You've never seen him like this, stumbling over himself, it's unsettling almost, but you stay quiet, giving him a chance to say what he needs to say before you'll drop the topic altogether and keep moving. A heavy sigh leaves him, jade eyes lifting to the sky as if he were asking a higher power to grant him the will to continue. When his gaze falls back to you though, you're betrayed by your own body, as much as you can fool yourself that whatever you feel for him doesn't go beyond tempestuous friendship, you cannot lie to your heart, not when it almost skipped a beat just then. "It wasn't like that" He continued, more gathered this time. Determined to be clear on where he stands. "The assignment? The one I took over after you were hurt? I met her during that time. She was designated to me as my psychologist, the dreams... the dreams came back and they were far more vivid than before. I became dependent on her, I thought I had feelings for her." A pause, watching your expression for any signs of discomfort. You're either a good actress or you truly don't care. "But, it was infatuation. I know that now, it was nothing more than that. A distraction from the pain and the fear. A means to an end. Something to take my mind off... off of you."

His admission catches you off guard, not that you hadn't wondered if what you felt was ever reciprocated, often telling yourself that you were imagining things when his eyes lingered on you a moment too long, or how he'd wrap his arm around your shoulder as you drift to sleep by the fire, but it's the way that he expressed it, the timing of it. The guilt etched on his face as if he'd been unfaithful to a relationship that never was.

You feel your response get lodged in your throat, your lips parted ready to say something — anything, but a string of sputtered sounds is all you can get out, your brain is soup, trying to formulate what you want and need to say to him.

A rumbling from beneath your feet interrupts your already struggling thoughts, for a moment you think it's another earthquake, but before you can even register what's really happening, the black sludge glues you to the spot, spreading across the ground below you and all too quickly, you're surrounded, the BT's emerging from the tar, a hand on each of your calves and one on your forearm threatening to pull you under. Their hideous groans of despair threaten to drown out your panicked cries for help, it's not the first time you've been in a situation like this, but it is the first time you'd forgotten yourself out here, been too wrapped up in personal matters and allowed yourself to be put in danger.

Neil was moving within seconds, eating up the short distance with large strides, hastily dumping the cargo off his back along the way without a second thought for anything else but you, he can't lose you.

Their gruesome grabby hands pull and tug at you from every direction, your porter suit protects you from the tar coming into contact with your skin, but if you get pulled under? There's no coming back from that. Neil's yells sound far away, hollow as you desperately struggle against the creatures, a sharp bark of your name snaps you out of it and he's there in a wide eyed panic. "Take my hand!" He's right on the edge of the tar pool, extending himself as much as he can without risking becoming the next target, though in his mind, he'd dive in head first if it meant you'd live. You don’t hesitate, grasping onto him, your literal lifeline right now.

With his hand clasped tight around yours and another around your forearm, he pulls as you push, there must be at least 5 BT’s desperately trying to take you down and if you were a less optimistic person, you’d be in utter despair, your fight or flight would cease to exist. Neil wouldn’t let you though, and that’s what is keeping you from giving up right now, he’s here, he’s got you, like he always does.

“Just a little more! It’s okay! I won’t let go!” He’s putting all his strength into it, his strained grunts mixing with your own, one foot free of the tar and then the other, slick and slimy coating you from your waist down, but you can move now and he doesn’t relent in his efforts to get you out of there completely. One more harsh tug and you’re stumbling towards him, the impact of your bodies colliding sending you both to the ground.

The landing is awkward, his arms encircle you hoping to take the brunt of the fall himself, but a searing painful snap in your forearm as you land half on top of him means your just-recovered injury would be your downfall. Though a broken arm is a small price to pay over being claimed by the tar pit.

Adrenaline still runs high, you feel the initial agony yes, but you need a minute to catch your breath, your face is buried in his chest, you feel his thundering heartbeat against your forehead, his heavy breaths filling your ears reminding you that you’re still here.

The two of you stay like that for a long moment, the wails of the BT’s slowly dying out as they descend back into the tar. He must need this as much as you do, any slower and you’d be gone, if he were any weaker, you’d be lost forever and he’d never forgive himself. The arms around you are your safe haven right now, and there’s no place you’d rather be.

A pained hiss leaves you, bringing you both back down to earth, sitting you up carefully as you support your broken arm. “I’m fine” your wince says otherwise and he’s not buying that put on smile, the one you give him when his jokes are shit or when you insist that it’s ‘okay’ that he takes the cup of horchata from the foodhall. “Neil, you don’t have to fuss really-”

He’s not listening to you, already removing the bandana from around his neck to fashion a makeshift sling. You flinch as he removes your hand to hammock your arm, but when he goes to tie the knot around the back of your neck, all the pain is forgotten in that moment, your eyes wandering his face as he’s deep in concentration, his hair slick with sweat and grime, stuck to his forehead. You realise you’ve never been this close to his face before, every line and wrinkle, the mole hidden beneath his beard scruff. You take all of it in, the cliche about appreciating what you have after a near death experience might be corny, but it's very real to you, there and then, you see what’s been in front of you this entire time.

“Neil” His name is a gentle murmur from your lips,ready to throw caution to the wind.

Concerned eyes meet yours as he pauses what he's doing, scanning your expression for any sign of distress. “What is it? Are you o-” He’s cut off mid-sentence, your lips against his and he could have sworn his heart stopped in that moment, he’s stunned, though only briefly, hands slipping from the secured knot behind your neck to slide up and cup your face, deepening the kiss. It’s savouring and slow, only the two of you existing in the wide open clearing. You don’t know how long the two of you remain like that, but a shrill beeping from the comms weather system attached to both your wrists brings you back to reality.

Reluctantly, you both pull back, your forehead dropping to rest against his cheek as he checks it. ‘CAT 3 DUST STORM IMMINENT - SEEK SHELTER IMMEDIATELY’ the robotic voice sounds, he heaves a heavy sigh. “It seems the universe has impeccable timing, come, follow me, there’s somewhere nearby we can go until it passes.” with a tenderness that you’ve never seen from him before, he’s helping you up onto your feet, cautious not to jostle your injured arm.

Slipping your good hand into his, he guides you away from the scene of your almost-demise, retrieving his abandoned cargo on the way.

ACT II - The Cave

The wind whips and howls beyond the entrance to the cave, the two of you had ventured in just far enough to be out of the storm's reach, but not so deep that you’d risk getting lost within its many chambers. Neil hadn’t let go of your hand the whole walk there, checking in with you every so often to make sure you were doing alright and the pain was manageable, seeing how he cared for you wasn’t anything new, but despite the kiss, you knew there was more the two of you needed to talk about, and the storm would provide the perfect opportunity for that.

Neil had led the way into the cave, putting himself ahead of you, a blue glow from your oradecks illuminating the space. When he was sure there were no wild animals living inside, he helped to get you situated first, carefully taking the cargo off your back before instructing you to sit on the rock ledge jutting out from the cave wall — which you did without needing to be told twice.

You watch on quietly as he gathers debris that had made its way inside, either bought in by birds to make nests with or blown in by a past storm, quickly and efficiently building a small pyre to keep the space warm and well lit.

“Is this supposed to be mood lighting?” your quip gets a hearty laugh out of him, shoulders shaking as he’s hunched over striking his flint and steel.

“And you tell me my jokes are terrible”

“Because they are!”

He grins over his shoulder at you, and you can’t help but mirror him, he’s always had that effect on you. “Just because you’re injured, doesn’t mean I have to agree with you, you know?” The retort makes it feel like old times again, when the banter was endless and you actually looked forward to going on delivery runs with him.

The fire goes up with a gentle crackle, Neil watches it for a moment and you watch him, the shadows dancing across his side profile making his already handsome features more pronounced. He catches you staring and you make no attempt to look away and hide, no more stolen glances anymore, not now.

Wordlessly, he rises from his spot in front of the fire and walks over to you where you sit, crouching down in front of you, your gaze following him every step of the way, unable to deny how he makes your pulse race.

The hues of ocean green and blue in his stare are muted by the dilated black pupils, the way he looks up at your face with such intent and sentimentality makes you want to grab him and kiss him again, but there are still words left unsaid, and you both know it.

“Are you warm enough?” you nod and smile gently in response. “Do you need help getting out of your suit? No offence, but the tar isn’t exactly working for you.” your faux exasperated sigh and amused eye roll is exactly what he was after and once he has your permission, he assists you out of the mucky gear, removing and tossing aside your boots first, prompting you to stand before he works on getting your utility belt undone, it’s intimate, having him undress you, far more than you’re used to from him, but you feel no discomfort or reluctance in the act, it’s not like you’re nude underneath anyway.

Still, he takes his time in undressing you, his gaze wandering over the freckled copper skin revealed beneath. With great care, he lifts your arm out of the sling to remove it from the sleeve. It hurts, there's no denying that, but seeing the guilt written on his expression hurts more. He's blaming himself for what happened to you back there.

When your suit is completely off and discarded to the ground, he gingerly sets your arm back in the sling, guiding you to sit once more. “Neil?” His eyes catch yours, your head tilted to look up at him, the way you look at him drives him to madness. “I'm not angry at you by the way, and I don't blame you for what happened out there.”

A small step back and a slight dismissive wave of his hand, the regret is entirely his own, you know he won't forgive himself that easily. “I should have just told you about Lucy before we left base, if I hadn't been so distant with you then none of this would ever have happened, you got hurt again because of me.”

You stay quiet for a moment, chewing the inside of your cheek as you contemplate your next words. “Neil, you have got to stop blaming yourself. Whatever happened between you and this Lucy is none of my business, did you think I'd be jealous? Did you think I'd hate you for living your life? You should know by now all I want is to see you happy, that's what you'd want for me. I don't need to know about what happened while you were away, what did hurt was knowing that you were icing me out because of it. I thought I'd lost you.”

The passion in your voice makes a lump form in his throat, he never wanted to hurt you or push you away, but it was the shame of why he got involved with someone else that made him do it. He lowers to his knees in front of you once more, removing his gloves before taking your hands in his own, thumb brushing over your knuckle, his attention solely on your beautiful face illuminated by the firelight.

“I need to expand on what I said before, that I was only with her to take my mind off of you… I…” He searches for the words, not wanting to scare you away or force you to say anything back to him, but he has to tell you. “I have been in love with you for as long as I can remember. And the dreams I was having while I was away were about you, about losing you the same way I almost lost you today. I couldn't cope with it. I couldn't sleep, if I closed my eyes and had to see you dying one more time I…” He pauses, never breaking eye contact. “You'll never lose me, tesoro (treasure) , but I am deathly afraid of losing you.”

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, he sees them, he thinks for a moment that he's ruined it all by confessing like this, that is until you release his hand and cup his cheek inside, drawing him in for another kiss, there was more intent to it this time, you needed him to understand how you feel, you needed to show him before you could verbalize it.

His lips — ever so slightly chapped — felt like heaven slanted against your own, his hands moving to your waist when your tongues meet, his touch was dizzying, even over your undervest it was heating your skin. You'd imagined this moment in great detail many times, often when you're alone in your room at night, unable to sleep from just thinking about him. You've lost count how many times you'd slipped your hand beneath your underwear and made yourself come thinking about how it would feel if it were him doing it to you instead, each and every time you'd tell yourself it was the last, only to find yourself picturing his face the next night as you moaned his name under your breath.

“I love you Neil” You breathe out between kisses, sliding your good arm around his neck in an attempt to get as close to him as possible. You'd known how you felt about him for a long time, though you'd been unwilling to call it what it was out of the fear that he didn't feel the same.

His lips leave your own to trail kisses down your jaw and neck, a palm splayed out on your lower back and between your shoulder blades, holding you against him as his things get more heated. “I love you too” His breath is hot against your neck, the warmth blooming low in your belly is nothing compared to the inferno between your legs, you feel the material dampening against your core with every kiss he places on your skin, going lower past your collarbone, to the swell of your breast, oh so careful not to knock your broken arm. “Tell me to stop if this is too much” The audacity of him to say that while mouthing your peaked nipple through your vest is absurd.

“Don't you fucking dare stop, I'll throw you in a tar pit myself if you do cabrón (bastard).” Your breathy laugh goes straight to his cock, the confines of his suit doesn't exactly provide the give needed for a situation like this. But he isn't one to argue.

He tugs down your vest enough to take the stiff brown bud between his lips, tongue swirling and lapping, learning what you like, listening to all the little sighs and quiet moans as his cues. He wants to do this right, he wants to enact the visions he had all those nights he fisted his cock thinking of you when he didn't want to sleep, how he'd worship you, how he craved you. Years wasted on daydreams and diversions when he should have just been honest with you from the start — and now he's determined to make up for it.

Unlatching from your breast, Neil kisses lower down your abdomen, pushing up the hem of the vest to expose your soft stomach to him, with the other hand he nudges your thighs further apart, he can feel the heat radiating off you now, it only drives him to keep going. His tongue drags and trails over the stretchmarks on your hip, kissing and lavishing attention on all his new favourite parts of you that he's never explored before. “We don't have to do this here, we can wait until we're back at base, if you'd prefer romance and flowers, that is.” This asshole. He peers up at you with a mischievous gleam in his eye. He's insufferable and funny all at once, you love him, you hate him and everything in between.

“Neil” You half-warn, half-urge, your nails raking through the hair at his nape send a chill down his spine.

There will be time for romance later, right now he needs to show you what you mean to him, he almost lost you today. That'll never happen again, not on his watch.

He slips his fingers beneath the waistband of your pants and you lift your hips off the stone ledge to help him get them off you, your underwear stays on, for now, you note.

Without any more prompting, his lips are back on you once more, starting from your knee and moving his way higher, higher, higher up the inside of your smooth thigh. Slow, tantalizing kisses placed teasingly close to the edge of the elastic where hints of dark curls escape from, he can smell you now, the heady scent of your arousal filling his senses, he can see the way the dark material clings to your outer lips, soaked for him already.

He groans as he mouths your sex over your underwear, tasting the sweet and tart tang of you already, it's intoxicating and he doesn't stop, his hands on your hips urging you to roll them against his face, his breathing heavy and laboured, hot breaths making the material even more damp.

You're equally as desperate, fingers curled in his hair, your body jolting every time the tip of his nose nudges against your clit, it's too much and not enough all at once.

“I need to taste you.” His voice is deep and pleading, barely holding back from just tearing the fabric away from your body. “Please”

You're aching for him, each breath heavier than the last. A raspy yes leaves your lips and he's moving, slinging your legs over his shoulders before tugging your underwear to the side, diving straight in to lick a broad stripe through your slit. Neil hums at the taste of you hitting his tongue, determined to make up for lost time, determined to have you quaking beneath him.

Your hand flies to his shoulder, steadying yourself as he pulls you into his face over and over again, alternating between slow swirls and meticulous patterns that have you mewling and gasping above him. His eyes flit up to watch you get lost in the pleasure, your head thrown back, your tits heaving with every breath you take. His length twitches and leaks in his boxers, he's never felt like he could come just from pleasuring a partner alone, but it's different with you, there's history and love here. Watching you slowly unravel is quickly becoming hard s favourite thing, the shadows from the flames dancing over your bare skin just make you look more of a goddess to him, and he intends to treat you like such.

With skilled ease, he slips his tongue inside you, curling the tip and dragging over that special spot repeatedly, your thighs shake, your back arches, he knows you're close, and all he wants is to drink down your sweet nectar. He's chasing that release, removing his tongue to suction his lips around your swollen clit, slowly sinking two fingers into your cunt to feel the delicious squeeze of your walls as you come.

Your cries echo throughout the cave, his name tumbling from you like a babbled prayer, he can't help but groan in return, grinning against you as he feels your essence running down his fingers.

The pump of his fingers slows as he works you through your climax, placing gentle kisses to your mound while your breathing regulates. When the pulsing subsides, he removes his fingers slowly, eliciting a soft whine from you. His eyes drift from your twitching hole to his coated fingers and then your face, somehow even more stunning when you're blissed out, heavy lidded eyes and your plush lips parted into a lazy smile, and before he can even think about cleaning off his fingers, your hand encircles his wrist, pulling them to your lips and sucking them clean yourself with a sensual hum.

Transfixed. He's utterly transfixed and made dumb by you.

A string of saliva connects his fingers to you when he pulls them away, it has to be the sexiest thing he's ever seen. You were — are – his literal dreamgirl and he just got to make his wildest dreams come true, and hopefully some of yours too.

“Your knees must ache being down on the ground like that” Trust you to make a joke right after he's just gone down on you, he shouldn't have expected any less. “Does the romance extend further than you eating me out in this cave or did you just give yourself blueballs until we can get back to base?” That damn smirk of yours, he could never resist it.

“Well…” He starts, planting featherlight kisses to your thigh before continuing. “As painfully hard as I am right now…” A soft breath against your skin. “I can wait if need be. We don't have to-”

“Neil, stop talking and take the damn suit off already, recognise a rhetorical question when it's asked.” You're a menace, but he's not one to argue either. He sets your legs down gently before rising to his feet in front of you, his own legs feel like jelly from kneeling on the ground like that, but it's the furthest thing from his mind right now, not with how you're eying him as he removes his suit and boots down to his underclothes quick as a flash. In the flickering light of the fire, you let your gaze travel down his body, the broadness of his shoulders, the white vest slightly see-through, made damp from perspiration and then your eyes drift further south, taking in the prominent bulge beneath his pants.

You stand, stopping just in front of him to trail your fingers down his chest and with a sultry whisper, you tell him to sit.

Neil doesn't need to be told twice, taking the spot where you'd found your release mere moments ago, he sits, legs spread wide as he watches you slip off your underwear one handed. He needs a moment to just take you in, you let your hair down out of its braid and your natural curls cascade down your past shoulders, he'd been a fool to not express how he felt long ago, but as you stand before him now, like this, he realises he's never going to let you slip through his fingers again.

You must catch the softening in his gaze, because as you climb into his lap, your hand comes up to hold his cheek, staring deeply into those vibrant eyes that you've come to love so much. “¿Estas feliz? (Are you happy?) I can't tell by the look on your face alone.” Your gentle chuckle and the need for reassurance has warmth blooming in his chest.

Bringing his hand up to cover your own, he smiles, his reply full of sincerity and tenderness. “Sí, estoy muy feliz. (Yes, i'm very happy). Just thinking about what an idiot I was to ever not just build up the courage to tell you how I felt before.” He idly toys with the hem of your vest, fingers brushing against your hip. “I've faced BT’s and mechs, but telling you how I felt proved to be the scariest thing I've ever done?” The humourless huff that leaves him is self-deprecating, you know he'll always regret not telling you sooner and under different circumstances.

“I could have spoken up to you know? It takes two, Neil. There was just so much I wanted to say to you with no idea how to say it. We can't change the past, but we can control the now and our future.”

Our future.

Your specific choice of wording makes his heart leap, what would that future look like? He wonders. It's not unheard of for porters to settle down. And if he were being honest with himself, the idea of settling down with you is everything to him.

He knows you're right, he can't keep beating himself up about the past, if he wants something he just has to go for it. And so he does.

Another orgasm is pulled from you before he's even taken his cock out of his pants. His fingers pumping in tandem with his thumb circling your clit, he got to watch your face this time as you met your release and squirmed in his lap.

“So beautiful when you come for me” He whispers between kissing you, swallowing your moans. “So beautiful”

When you watch him suck his fingers clean of you this time, you snap, eyes darkened with desire. With a little jostling, he's able to free himself from his pants, pulling them down to just beneath his balls before wrapping his hand around the base, a hand on your hip to guide you down. His sensitive head catches on your entrance and you both utter a cuss or two.

You capture his lips in a fervent kiss as you tease his cock through your folds, coating him in your slick, mixing with the pre-come weeping from his tip. No more waiting, no more playing games, there's been too much of that already.

Pulling back just a little, you watch his expression when you line yourself up with him and gradually sink down onto his length, the two of you moaning lightly in unison as the first couple of inches breech you, the sweet sting and stretch of him quickly dissolving into immeasurable pleasure.

The rise and fall of your hips starts slow once he's fully sheathed inside you, your palm flat on his shoulder as he holds your hips and watches in awe as you take his cock like it was made for you. “You feel so fucking good” He rasps, gravelly and lost in lust, the sound of him like that drives you wild. You crave the day you can ride him properly, when your arm is healed and you're in a comfortable bed together, able to fall asleep in a post-coital haze afterwards.

You take him like that, slow and deep as he meets the downward roll of your hips with upward thrusts, his right hand sliding up your spine until he meets the back of your neck, holding you there, pulling you into him to kiss you.

The control is yours, he's all yours and you're showing him how you like it. He memorizes your pattern, rise and fall, rise and fall, griiiiiind into the coarse hairs at the base of his cock. Repeating that pattern until your breaths are coming in shorter and sharper and he feels the first flutters of you around him. He palms at the globe of your ass as he pulls you down onto him harder, faster, the tightening in his balls drawing closer and closer until the two of you are gasping and groaning together.

“Where?” He breathes, with strength to hold back enough to get one word out.

“Inside. Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Neil! I'm gonna come!” An ecstatic cry sounds from you when you grind your clit down on him one final time and simultaneously, your climaxes wash over you both like a tidal wave, you still on top of him, quivering as it rocks through you while he continues to fuck up into you, languid, steady strokes until his balls are emptied and your walls are no longer clenching him.

A lazy kiss, breathing each other in as your heartbeats synchronize. He's everything to you, and you're everything to him.

Despite the unforgiving ground beneath you, your quality of sleep was actually quite good. Neil had sacrificed his suit for you to lay on top of, though you'd tried to scooch over as much as possible to make space for him. His arms stayed encircled around your waist the whole night, you revelled in the feeling of it and his gentle, warm breaths on the back of your neck.

For the first time in a long time also, Neil slept the entire night without a single DOOMS induced nightmare. It had been like a switch had been flipped for him.

The fire had dwindled to a smoulder by the time you awoke to the gentle press of his lips to the curve of your neck, his hand splayed out over your stomach. “Ciao bella (Hello beautiful). You snore, do you know that?” Not even a full minute into your day and this man is already breaking your peace.

With an over exaggerated huff and a faux glare over your shoulder at him you retort. “I don't believe these wild accusations you speak of. And if you tell anyone I'll… I'll…”

“You'll what?” He mocks, a charming grin lighting up his face, thinking your sputtering is adorable. “You've already threatened to throw me into a tar pit, I think your threats are empty, honestly.” A playful nip to your neck has you laughing, a wonderful sound that he can't wait to hear for the rest of his days. With that in mind, he pulls back, leaning on one elbow to stare down at you, more serious now. “You mentioned the future yesterday, more specifically you said our future actually. I need to know if this is what you want, because as far as I'm concerned, you're it for me. You always have been.”

The warmth of your smile in response is like sunlight peaking through the clouds, radiant and bright. “I know words hold weight, Neil. Which is why I said it like that, because that is what I want. A future. With you. Whatever that looks like. I'd love to go back to Mexico, find a home for us there, build a life that doesn't involve so much danger. I know it's asking a lot for us to just leave the UCA, but that's where I was born, that's where mi mamá (my mom) is buried. Just say you'll th-”

Your impassioned speech is cut off by a kiss, your face cradled in Neil's hands, it's lingering and sweet, and you already know his answer. No words necessary.

He'd go to the ends of the earth for you.

Thank you so much for reading/engaging! If you'd please consider leaving a comment or a reblog I'd be so grateful! <33 and I beg you to go easy on me for any inaccuracies to the DS universe bc I'd love to write for Neil again honestly.

tag list: @over-orchid @narcoticvvenus @strandedsnake

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