It’s Rude To Stare | F!Reader/Millions Knives Oneshot (NSFW)
A/N: OOC Tristamp Millions Knives humouring reader with his arms. This little one-shot blossomed from an idea that I had, and subsequently shared, in a Trigun server. Gets quite spicy towards the end. I also have a bit of a Knives muse floating around in my head who comes and goes as he pleases. He's pretty fun to write. Words: 1254. Tags: Vaginal fingering (f!receiving), Finger fucking (f!receiving). Ao3 Link Trigun Fic Master List Divider Credit: cafekitsune
It’s rude to stare, or so that's what you've been told for most of your life.
But you can't seem to tear your eyes from the sight of the way Knives’ arms flex, tense and relax. Not only do you stare from afar when he's training, but it’s the first thing you notice about him when he’s idly standing about or sitting down, or when he is talking to you. It’s those moments like these when your mind begins to wander...
You wonder what it’s like to touch them. You wonder how hard the muscle must feel when it is flexed, and how soft it must be when relaxed. You wonder if the skin stretching over said muscle is smooth and supple to touch.
But when Knives catches you staring for a little bit too long, his blank expression shifts into one of curiosity.
“What are you staring at?”
Your expression is that of prey being caught between the jaws of a predator, your eyes widening in panic as he calls you out. You stutter and whatever speech you had suddenly evades you. You are unsure of how to respond, but when you've attempted to string something together and make an excuse, he's already picked up on why you're staring.
And he humours you.
"Is this human entranced with the sight of my arms? Very well, if I must pique your curiosity, then here..."
His hands are broad and soft - uncalloused - as he takes yours and places them on his shoulders, the top half of his skin-tight suit dematerialising. He’s warm and soft, exactly like you had imagined, his muscles firm as your hands slide and drift down to give his biceps a gentle squeeze.
"Is this what you were after?" He asks, raising his eyebrows at you.
You’re afraid to express yourself for a moment, but the cadence and softness of his voice, and the way his eyes search yours for a response oddly calms you.
“Yes…” you breathe, sliding your hands around to his triceps to feel and gently squeeze the muscle there.
A laugh rumbles from his chest, reverberating throughout his body so much so, that you can feel it in the flesh beneath your palms and fingertips.
“Such predictable and simple creatures…” he remarked softly as he looked down at you.
But Knives' arms aren't just for show, oh no. There is brute strength behind those arms of his, even if he is seen utilising his bladed tendrils to make quick work of his foes, and those who stand in his way on the daily. Perhaps that's how his skin has remained unmarked and unblemished all these years; never letting anyone, not even a human, come too close for comfort.
Well, that was until he met you of course.
You are perhaps the only one - the first and last human on this desert planet - that has and ever will experience first hand, the brute strength of Millions Knives. But it's a different type of brute strength that you experience.
It's not the kind you see him use when resorting to violence and bloodshed, but it's one that no one else has ever seen him use.
Ever.
Not even in the one-hundred and fifty years he's been roaming this desert planet.
Until one day when you were being particularly unruly and rebellious - enough to test Knives' patience and push it to the brink - was when he took you completely by surprise. You let out a surprised gasp as he effortlessly lifted you up with one arm and draped you over his shoulder. As you were being carried away, your face bloomed at the thought of what else he was capable of when using both arms on you.
And you very quickly learned what these capabilities were.
A sheen of sweat covers your bodies as a single hand of his pins both of your wrists above your head, the other, working between your spread legs, prying a never ending river of slick from your core. It’s truly a delectable sight, watching his forearm and bicep tense and relax as he works two of his thick fingers into your cunt; his fingers curled nice and deep inside of you, the soft pads of his fingertips hammering away at your most sensitive spot as he finger fucks you.
"For your unruly and petulant misbehaviour earlier, this is your punishment..." he scolds, his voice not faltering for even a moment as his hand continues to work you into a babbling mess.
You weakly nod in response, far too carried away with what was going on between your legs and the pleasure addling your brain. You wouldn't exactly call this 'punishment' more than you would call it a 'reward', but you were smart enough not to tell him that even in such a state. If anything, you were getting almost exactly what you wanted from him, and it was all because of those damn sculpted arms of his and how badly you wanted him to man handle you with them.
The sounds that fill the room are so wet and lewd. He's bringing you pleasure that you're not quite so sure that you yourself could ever bring with your own fingers ever again. Perhaps you would find a way to make this a bit more of a common occurrence with your ways, maybe you would bring yourself to ask him to use you and your body as a way to explore humans in a 'different' way.
You lull your head to the side, squeezing your eyes shut in an attempt to focus on the pleasure rapidly building between your legs, pushing you closer and closer to sweet bliss.
"Look at me."
His command snaps you from your short-lived pleasure filled daze. You do as you are told and slowly turn your head to meet his ice-blue gaze; only to find it unwavering from yours. A light grin tugs at his lips when you comply as he begins to grind the heel of his palm against your sensitive clit; your eyes blowing wide and your back arching at the added external stimulation. Wanton moans slipped from your lips as the calculated, yet careless assault on your sweet spots intensified; the internal and external stimulation now overwhelming you, pushing you to the brink of an orgasm.
“N-Nai… I’m gonna… Oh... Oh f-fuck, fuck, fuck…” you curse, throwing your head back and squeezing your eyes shut. You were so, so close...
"Do not look away…” he growls through grit teeth. “Look at me when you cum…”
Knives keeps up with his pace as you weakly attempt to hold your head up to look at him. The sight above you is heavenly, the beads of sweat forming on his temples, the way his platinum blonde hair sticks to his forehead and his eyes focused in concentration on you is enough to bring you to your orgasm; your hips stuttering and walls contracting hard around his fingers as you cry out his name in rapture. Thick, smooth and soft digits continue to fuck you through your orgasm as the heel of his palm continues its grinding on your clit to the point of overstimulation, tears gathering at the corners of your eyes from the intense stimulation as your body goes limp beneath his touch.
You whimper as he removes his fingers, his hand petting your sopping wet cunt as he presses a kiss to your forehead.
“Good girl…” he purrs against you.
And here you thought it was rude to stare…
