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shuckinbeanz · 1 year

Text

Ten Years-Warmth

warnings/notes: pls lmk in comments asks or dms if I'm missing any tws I'm lost on how to appropriately tw this and have no idea if it needs any but I can't shake the feeling it doesss? 😭 (I can't help but think OOC, definitely OOC)soft tristamp!Millions Knivesxhuman reader cuz that cloak tho 🥴🥺 if you seen him you probably already know what he is, so spoilers ahoy! we've proved time and time again he can trust us, but he's so very hesitant to let down his guard because he's afraid he'll break again 😭 as that barrier breaks, we find he's super touch starved despite his initial hesitance. Slow n steady wins the race! Told in his POV, brave bb inchin out of his comfort zone for us cuz he trusts us sm 🥺

after lots of debate I've decided to post this in parts bc i wanna feed sideblog dwellers too!

MINORS 👏 DNI! 👏 AGE 👏 IN 👏 BIO 👏 OR 👏 DNI! 👏 Head on over to @candybowbeansies please for my SFW pieces, or be blocked if you interact here! 😇

Tags: @dynamightsdaydream

For ten long years, you were there for him. You never looked away, you always forced yourself past the inconsequential, so-called limits of your lowly species. For him. And somewhere along, the insignificant you turned into something dear. You probably don't know this, but…he so desperately wanted to reciprocate. His heart and his brain warred with each other and his body.

It was very confusing, and even more complicated.

You were the only other human…he was willing to love. It was painstakingly slow but sure, and eventually, your fastidious efforts bore fruit.

Touch.

As revolting as the idea alone was, the moment he allowed your knuckle to graze against his jaw in a featherlight touch…it was equally, if not more so intoxicating.

It was also uncomfortable.

But he knew, if he showed that to you, you'd rear away in self resentment; hiding your desire to be touched, and more importantly, touch him beneath lock and key, out of your loyalty for him.

Yet he wanted more.

The look of pure awe in your eyes, as soft words pass your softer lips; of praise, worship, and limitless gratitude. He almost wanted to kiss them. Almost. Your other hand clutched desperately at the material you wore, evidence of your self restraint for his sake, your respect for his boundaries.

His gaze-somewhat judging-gives rise to your answer. "I want to touch you. I want to caress your cheek." you start, and he humors you with a raised brow. "Are you not doing that, already?" he mentions your knuckle, featherlight and sickeningly gentle against his jaw. You giggle, then. A sweet melody that makes his heart thrum in kind. "I want to run my fingers through your hair. I want to trace your ears, massage your broad shoulders…" you trail off, becoming shy at your own desires. "And…your strong arms…"

Even though his innate paranoia he built up over the years incessantly nagged at the edges of his consciousness; of losing, of being broken, of breaking anything precious to him…it did sound very tempting.

He doesn’t notice he’s moving, until his hand has found your wrist. You blink owlishly as he guides you, a rushed ‘Are you sure?’ spilling forth from you, worry evident in your tone and your tense form. For a brief moment, before your palm touches his cheek under his coaxing grip, he isn’t sure. But the moment it does, his body and his heart betray his brain as he leans into your warm palm and purrs.

Warmth.

The very thing he forsook to chase his ideals. Something that, for years, he'd sorely missed, prolonged stubborn abstinence numbing the craving. It hits him like a sandsteamer on overdrive.

It was a disgusting feeling, if he were to be honest, stemming from the fear of loss. If he accepted this touch, mindful of his being, only to lose it-to lose you, in the end, he'd break.

He'd break far, far beyond repair, everything you've worked so hard to mend torn right off like a bandaid, never to heal again.

He didn't want that.

Yet here he was, leaning into your touch and craving more. He yearned for it, down to his very vulnerable core, which threatened to hum to life in a very visible, vibrant hue just beneath his skin-quite literally.

It was rather humiliating for him, for every fiber of his being to be so easily highly reactive to you. He both hated it and loved it at the same, very confusing time.

He was still in denial that someone as great as him was so touch starved. But before he knew it, he'd dived right into your embrace, his weight sending you onto your back.

He let you experiment; your fingers just barely touching him, ready to move away at a moment's notice. He appreciated this, deeply-though he'd rather die than admit it.

Little by little, he'd slip out of his comfort zone, only for you. It will take time…but you are ever patient.

Slowly, his tension began to melt away, just as you bravely began on his hair, with touch still so careful.

He respected you. You've always done everything you could, solely for him.

Soon enough, it's too late; the unusual beckon of sleep tugs at his eyelids.

Maybe he likes you. Maybe…he's in love. But everything was still so confusing and so very complicated. So wait for him, just a little longer, and hopefully he can find the courage to accept it all.

#trigun stampede #millions knives #millions knives x reader #millions knives x you #trigun stampede millions knives x reader #knives x reader

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