Knives Millions X Reader - Tumblr Posts

sprint fic | nine

prompt: sharp teeth grazing deftly against soft skin character(s): millions knives description: this fic was written using a prompt made by @petrichorium !! they're so fun hopefully i get to use more as the month goes on !! 🥺 happy belated mermay everyone <3 tag(s)/warning(s): merman au, violent themes, brief mention of a merman attack wc: 721

Knives is sharp not only in name.

You’ve learned that the hard way many times over: from the glittering scales that adorn his powerful, swaying tail; to the nails on his fingers—the very ones he used to claw himself free of that fishing net the night of the last full moon; to the wit that leaves his mouth without any invitation—his attempts to scare you from the reefs only fueling your morbid curiosity, skyrocketing his own vexation and reluctant fascination at your strange behavior.

But above it all, the most dangerous asset he carries is that mouth full of razor-sharp teeth.

(“Most filth stay away from the horrors they can’t comprehend,” he’d said on your third meeting. His sneering confidence thwarted only when you gave him a nearly three hour speech on the phenomena of horror movies and folklore—the way humans will seek out stimuli even at the risk of their own psychological safety.)

The first time he touched you, he made you bleed.

(It was the scales that did it—glinting and sharp despite their beautiful and deceptively smooth appearance; the way they shifted with the slow, methodical propulsion of his body through the water nothing short of hypnotic. Your human skin was no match for them: that armor he boasted, catching on their edges and sending you reeling, clutching your arm to your body while he hissed and twisted and salivated in spite of himself at the scent of it in the water.)

The memory of it comes back to you as he glides closer, the exposed length of your neck attracting his narrowed stare. Eyes reflecting impossibly blue with the pigmented ocean consuming you.

But the hand he uses to grab your hip is gentler, now—not kind, but careful, mindful of the dangerous press of his claws.

His mouth is closer than it has ever been. Before, you noticed the sharp peaks of his teeth when he talked, and of course he needed no reason to bare them at you within a moment’s notice—hoping to scare you away and faltering only when it proved to fuel your fascination.

His lips pull into a grin. You wonder if he can smell the way your heart rate picks up—salt water lapping in the dips of your throat.

(You’re aware of the danger merfolk pose to the safety of those stupid enough to venture into their territory. The stories that pass from mouth to mouth always finding a way to over-exaggerate, but never meant to be taken as mere myth.)

The moment his teeth graze over the soft, salted flesh of your throat, you prepare yourself to become part of that statistic. Breath hitching audibly amidst the rumble and hiss of rolling ocean waves. 

Knives laughs as you swallow. The sound of it low and raspy in your ear. Your chin tilts subconsciously, creating more room for him to bully into your space.

(When you were younger, you witnessed first hand the brutal aftermath of a merfolk encounter.

The sand had been splotched with violent red, blood polluting the shore with watercolor ease. Kids were screaming—adults were screaming as the poor swimmer’s body was pulled up by the coast guard. The brutal scene of it forever etched into your memory.

Your mother had ushered you with panicked hands away from the beach, but you could never forget the fear on her face—frozen with terror as she all but carried you away from the terrified crowd.)

This close to Knives, if you listened carefully to the ocean, you could still hear the screams.

Gooseflesh prickles up your arms under the cold swelling water. It’s shallow enough here that you’re able to stand, but you find yourself holding onto Knives for support, eyes fluttering shut.

“Soft,” he remarks as he pulls away, mocking and quiet. You’d expect nothing less from him. “You wouldn’t survive the day out past the reef. Something big and hungry would make an easy meal of you.”

“You wouldn’t save me?” you ask, digging your toes into the sand as he tests the sharpness of his teeth against your shoulder. Jaw gaping, as if to mime the damage he could do to you. A little fantasy you’d be powerless to prevent.

"Who said it wouldn't be me going in for the kill?" he challenged.

But he never goes further than using his teeth to lightly poke the tender flesh of your shoulder, leaving you oddly wanting.

lover’s oath [millions knives | naï]

summary: knives finds you and everything has changed. word count: 1.2k warnings: side character death, mc is an abuse victim, general blood/violence, not quite fluff not quite angst but a secret third thing, minor biblical imagery/references. a/n: this is mostly a character study bcus i’m not sure how to write knives but i desperately want to kiss him. lmk what you all think!

The day you heard Knives play the piano was the day you finally believed in God.

Keep reading