#mayfly of space

[thetremblingroofbeam]

[yo-yo-yoshiko]

The best bug.

[fostersffff]

The biggest relief of watching 0083: Stardust Memory is finding out that Cima Garahau actually does stuff, and isn't just a glorified background character people latched onto because of an immaculate design.

This includes what I think is a frontrunner for The Coolest Death in Universal Century Gundam, where she gets impaled on a Mega Particle Canon, and is then blasted apart by said Mega Particle Canon.

[crevicedwelling]

the paralyzed cicadas I picked up from a failed cicada killer nest are the perfect material to show off some cool features of insect anatomy! (although the wasp’s venom would keep them alive for her larvae to eat, I froze them to make sure they’re fully dead for dissection).

cicadas are powerful, fast fliers, and all of their thorax is taken up by a bulk of reddish, stringy flight muscles, which I’ll talk more about later. this cicada is a female, so her abdomen is full of white, elongated eggs that she will insert into tree bark with the bladed ovipositor at her rear.

the male cicada’s abdomen, however, is almost entirely empty, and that air-filled space is used as a resonator for his loud calls. the biggest structure visible there is a curved pair of muscles that deforms the tymbals, producing a click with every contraction.

here's a view of the complete muscle, and the tymbals themselves which look like overlapping plates on his belly. if you're curious what the white frosted appearance is, some Neotibicen have a coat of waxy powder or pruinescence; this male N. tibicen is particularly pruinose.

onto the flight muscles:

powered flight is a pretty complex mechanism in any organism, and is never so simple as just flapping wings up and down, but most insects power their flight in a really unintuitive way (at least for us vertebrates): they contract muscles in their thorax that aren’t even attached to the wings!

this method of flight is called indirect flight, in contrast to the direct flight of the dragonflies and mayflies where each of four wings is directly attached to a muscle and can flap on its own.

instead, most insects have a longitudinal (image 1 above, d below) pair and a vertical (2, c) pair of muscles that deform the shape of abdomen, pulling the upper segment of the thorax (notum) up and down, and this moves the wings which are attached to the notum. useful indirect flight gif from wikipedia found here

even if compressed manually, the dead cicadas "flap" their wings due to the motion of the notum:

insect flight is a lot more complicated than this simplified look at them, but I think these cicadas offer a pretty good look at how most insects get around essentially by squishing themselves internally!

[chargeaznable]

Gundam 0083: Mayfly of Space

[alexanderwales]

Humans in fantasy settings with multiple races have kind of a problem, which is that it's hard to figure out what their "thing" is.

The biggest problem with establishing a "thing" for humans is that humans are the baseline for our understanding of the world, and any axis you move humans along, you're immediately cutting down the possibility space of all other fantasy races.

For example, if you said "humans are fast", you would be left with the problem of having to make all other races slower. If you said that humans were smart, you would have to make all other races dumber. There inherent problem here is that elevating some human trait as "their thing" blocks out concept space.

One of the stock characteristics that humans get is being all-arounders, which is boring but preserves them as being a baseline species. The other big one is "adaptability", which I think tends to be a decent choice because it means that humans can show up everywhere, but also means that there's nothing that humans are excluding anyone else from doing. There are other options, and I know everyone has their favorite.

I do have some affection for writers who decide that humans will exist at some extreme, with all other fantasy races being warped around that. There's some nice commitment to the bit that comes from deciding that yes, humans are at least a foot taller than any other race, or that humans are the mayflies of the mortal species and have by far the shortest lifespans.

[vashs-turtleneck]

Nimble-fingered.

Rating: EXPLICIT (18+ ONLY) Summary: Vash is good with his hands. Like, really good with his hands. Pairing: Vash the Stampede x f!reader Word count: 2.6k Content: smut, finger riding, dirty talk, pwp, teasing Vash A/N: I like his hands what can I say. Barely proofread this so if there's mistakes my bad.

✧ [Bonus chapter] - if you want more

NSFW BELOW, 18+ ONLY, MDNI!

Vash has pretty hands.

His flesh hand is warm, his fingers long and talented, his palms calloused and large. His prosthetic is beautiful, cold and strong. When he touches you, the contrast between the two is exhilarating.

And Vash is very good with his hands.

You've seen firsthand the things he can do with them; How they handle everything they touch with a deliberate and deadly precision, be it his gun, the reigns of a thomas, you.

There's something so teasing about the way his glove covers his middle and ring fingers. Your mind wanders to the ways he uses those fingers, how they agile they are when he holds his gun, how downright dangerous they are when he has them curled so perfectly inside you that he has you seeing stars.

You've been staring at them all night, and Vash, being as observant and aware of you as he is, has taken notice.

"Mayfly, are you even listening to me?" He tilts his head down to meet your eyes, a soft pout on his face, and your gaze shoots away from his hands to look at him.

"S-Sorry! I'm a bit spacey today, I guess." You chuckle nervously, your gaze leaving him as you look around the tavern, trying to find something else to take your mind off all the dirty thoughts filling your head.

But the flush on your cheeks betrays you, your thighs absentmindedly clenching together, and Vash sees it instantly. You feel the fingers of his prosthetic cup your cheek, turning your head to face him again. The glare reflecting off his orange lens hides those pretty baby blues, but you already know he's staring right at you like a meal.

"Oh yeah? Is that what it is?" He says, a teasing grin splitting his handsome face. His cold fingers caress your cheek, gently coaxing your face closer to his. "So distracted you won't even listen to me?"

Your breath hitches, his fingers trailing to the tip of your chin and holding your face up towards his.

"How about I help you focus, hm? Keep your eyes on me."

Oh, you're in trouble.

_____________

Vash leans comfortably back against the small couch, the old, dusty material sagging around him from your combined weight. His legs are parted wide beneath you, giving you ample space to steady yourself as you straddle his thighs. You're flushed, breathless, cunt stuffed with two gloved and dexterous fingers as his prosthetic cradles your body, tracing your lines and your curves as you bounce yourself on his hand. Your hands grip the collar of his open jacket as you pump yourself full of his fingers, your thighs trembling from the pleasure and exertion.

You're splayed completely bare on him, your clothes scattered all over the floor, while he hasn't taken off so much as his glasses. His baby blues stare at you reverently, admiring the delicious view in front of him through tinted lenses. His only goal right now is to please you until you're completely spent and for you to give him the privilege of watching you come undone on his fingers.

Except, he's not moving his hand.

"Keep going, baby. Don't stop now." Vash purrs, watching as you eagerly fill yourself with his fingers over and over.

"V-Vash..." You mewl his name, your voice a little pathetic, breathy whimper. "P-Please, move your hand."

He looks up at you, tilting his head to the side with a playful smirk plastered on his face.

"Hm? But why? You're doing such a good job all on your own, mayfly." He coos.

Oh, he's being so teasing tonight.

You continue to bounce yourself on his lap, moving up and down on his long fingers. It feels so, so good. You're a blubbering, moaning mess in front of him, and he hasn't even given you his cock yet.

"That's it, just like that. Use my hand to feel good. You know I love watching you feel good." He purrs against your ear, planting soft kisses along the side of your face before leaning slightly back, making sure to get a good view of your cunt engulfing his fingers. His glove is completely soaked through, your slick dripping down the fabric and soaking his lap, where your juices mix with his own precum against the front of his pants.

You do know how much he loves watching you, taking in your pleasure like it's his own. That paired with how needy you are for him tonight has Vash's heart beating out of his chest with pure lust and a desire for you to feel good, to use him to make yourself come over and over.

"Mmph! Gripping my fingers so tight, sweetheart. Makes me wanna fill you up with something bigger." He groans, watching your pussy drool, your slick pooling on the tented fabric covering his hardened cock.

"Yes. Want you to. Please, want you to fill me up, Vash." Your hands leave his coat, fingers trailing down along his muscled frame, feeling him through his shirt before you start to hastily try to unbuckle his belt. But Vash is much faster than you, the nimble fingers of his prosthetic gently gripping both your wrists and pulling them away from his lap.

"Ah, ah. Not yet, mayfly. You'll have to be a bit more patient, okay?" He whispers with a breathy chuckle, bringing the wrists he has so delicately wrapped in his grasp to his lips, planting soft, almost apologetic kisses to them. You can feel him press his warm lips to your palms, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Vash! Please. I can't- I need-" He stifles your words with a deep kiss to your lips, and you can feel him smiling against you.

"I know. I'm sorry, sweetheart. You know I'll give you what you want. I always do. Just want to enjoy you like this for a little longer, alright?" He whispers sweetly, words so soft you almost wouldn't believe he was splitting you with his thick fingers right now.

Your breaths are heavy and shaky, becoming more labored as your move yourself faster and faster against him, eyes fluttering with pleasure. He lets go of your wrists, and you're quick to grasp his shoulders to steady yourself again. You're so embarrassed right now from how needy you are, how desperate you are for him to fill you to the brim with his thick cock, but when he's looking at you like you're the most delicious thing he's ever seen, eyes worshipping every inch of your naked form, you can only keep going. You can feel your pussy clench around his digits, the tight knot inside you getting ready to burst. Vash, being all too familiar with the look you adopt on your face when you get dangerously close, notices immediately.

"You gonna come all over my hand again, baby?"

With a whine, you turn your head away in embarrassment, your face a deep crimson at how quickly and easily you come undone with him. But just as quickly as you look away, he softly grabs your face and turns it back towards him, cold metal fingers on your cheeks.

"Eyes on me, mayfly. I wanna see you. You're so beautiful when you make yourself feel good." He whispers hoarsly before pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth. Despite his lewd words, there's not a hint of teasing in his voice.

His metal thumb traces your lips, and without a second thought, your lips part, taking the digit into your mouth and swirling your tongue around it. The sight makes Vash moan hoarsely, instinctively bucking his hips up against you and letting you feel just how much he's aching under his tented pants.

"F-Fuck, you're being naughty tonight, mayfly." He groans, gently pressing his thumb further into your mouth and down on your tongue, being careful not to push too far.

"Is this what you wanted? You couldn't keep your pretty eyes off my hands all day today, could you? Is this what you wanted me to do you?"

Now he's teasing, and it's making you flush an even deeper red, your moans and whines muffled by the finger in your mouth. Your voice quivers with want, your body trembling as you bounce yourself on his fingers, cunt sucking in his fingers, and it only makes Vash smile fondly at you while he plays with your tongue.

"Who would've thought my angel could be so dirty? You were so busy thinking about me stuffing this pretty pussy all day that you didn't even listen to a word I said, is that right? Is this what you were thinking about, mayfly?"

God, he's being so teasing, but you'd be lying if you pretended that that's not exactly what you were thinking about all day when you looked at him. Glassy eyed, you nod and whimper around his thumb, tongue lewdly lavishing the metal. "Mhmm..." You whine, eyes upturned into a wanting, desperate stare as you look back at him. The look on your face fills him with a sense of pride, a deep satisfaction at how well he handles your body.

"Then let me give you everything you want, angel." He coos as his finger leaves your mouth with a soft pop of your lips, fingers trailing along your jawline before moving lower, his wet thumb tracing your pulse point as he slowly moves down to your chest. You feel the cool metal knead one of your breasts, dwarfing it in his large palm. His thumb roughly rolls over your perked nipple before he gently pinches it, making you moan wantonly and dig your nails into the fabric covering his broad shoulders.

Fuck, he's playing your body like an instrument.

"Oh, you're so good. Being such a good girl. Gonna make you come on my fingers, mayfly. You can give me one more, can't you?"

"One more."

He said that last time.

And the time before that.

You're a panting, mewling mess. You can feel your juices dripping down your thighs, coating his warm and calloused hand. You feel like you're in a lovedrunk haze, and all you can focus on is the man beneath you and the pleasure he's teasing you with.

"Vash, please..." Your voice is whiny and broken, words barely understandable through your heavy gasps for breath, and Vash has never seen a more breathtaking sight.

With an adoring and almost innocent smile, he suddenly curls his fingers inside you, pressing against that spot he knows makes you howl with rapture, and a deep growl rumbles in his chest when you cry out and tighten your grip on his shoulders.

"So good. So amazing. Fuck, you're so beautiful. Can't get enough of you." He pulls you closer and groans against the shell of your ear, trailing his tongue along the space behind it before moving down to nibble at your neck.

He starts to finally, finally move his fingers, pumping them against your sweet spot in tandem with the rhythm of your hips. You moan out loudly as he takes you apart with talented fingers, feeling yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.

"Mayfly..." His voice is soft and loving against your ear, yet it holds all your attention. When your eyes flutter to his, you see his eyes dart down to sopping cunt, and then back up to you, a gentle command for what he wants you to do, and you know him well enough to know what it is.

With a soft, embarrassed whine, one of your hands lets go of his shoulder. You bring your shaky fingers down your body to the apex of your sex, drawing circles over your neglected clit. Your eyes flutter closed, face flushing from the obscenity of the act, but you can't stop the high-pitched moans that leave your lips as curls his fingers even harder in response.

"That's it. Good girl. God, such a good girl, angel." He groans, staring down at your drooling sex as you play with yourself. He's being so indulgent tonight, yet he won't even let you touch him. He's just sat back and drowning in your pleasure, and he's loving every second of it.

"Keep making pretty sounds like that and I'm gonna come without so much as a touch, mayfly." He teases, his eyes drinking in the sight of you rubbing your sensitive little bud, moaning when he feels your hips start to stutter.

He moves his hand faster now, taking control of your pace. He pumps his fingers into you all the way down to his soaking knuckles with enough power to jolt you with every motion.

"C-Close, Vash. Gonna come, gonna come!"

At the feeling of your body quivering in his lap, Vash pinches your nipple again, thumb flicking over the perked bud. Like he can't help himself, he grinds his hips upwards against you in rhythm with his hand, pressing his aching cock against the plush of your thigh.

"Yes, yes, yes! Come, mayfly. Come on my fingers again for me."

Your eyes clench closed tightly, your breathing ragged and quivering. He has you in his complete control, quite literally in the palm of his hand as he meticulously and lovingly abuses every single one of your weak spots. He knows exactly what he's doing to you, and he's getting exactly what he wants.

"Vash!" You cry out his name in the throes of your climax, your back arching and pressing your bare breasts against his clothed chest, your cunt pulsing around his fingers, and Vash moans out obscenely along with you. His hips rut harshly up against you, hard enough that you can feel his pulsing length under the fabric before he stutters and stills, his own whimpers and gasps filling the air with yours.

Did... Did he just come?

Without you even touching him?

Your eyes open and fall to his lap, where you see the growing pool of fluids coat him. You can feel the warmth seeping against your thighs as his cum paints the inside of his pants and soaks the fabric.

"What'd I say, mayfly?" He whispers hoarsly, his voice trembling from the sheer intensity of his orgasm, those beautiful baby blues glassed over and his mouth tilted into a lazy grin in his lovedrunk euphoria. "Without so much as a touch."

Vash's movements soften, his fingers slowly pumping inside your pulsing heat just enough to help you ride out your own orgasm. He's groaning and panting, his own face flushed as he drinks in the lovely look of ecstacy contorting your face.

When your body relaxes, your cunt easing the tight grip on his fingers, he carefully and slowly pulls them out of you, groaning when he sees the strings of your slick that connect his fingers to your pulsing sex. He brings his soaked hand to his mouth, wrapping his lips around the clothed digits and sucks, drinking the fluids of your arousal from the fabric with a groan so deep it makes you shiver, not so much as blinking as his ravenous gaze eats you up. He growls at the taste of you, tongue eagerly swirling at the ring of cream formed at his knuckles.

"Mmmh... Taste so good, mayfly." He mumbles against his own fingers as he gorges himself on your slick. "So fucking good."

You're sat on his lap in silence, panting, chest heaving with every breath, completely enraptured by the vision in front of you. It's so lewd, yet so earnestly worshipping of your body.

When his gloved hand leaves his lips, his hungry stare rakes over your trembling form, and you feel his prosthetic wrap around the back of your head, pulling you into a wet, sloppy kiss. You can taste yourself against his mouth, as well as the taste of fabric from his glove.

As he keeps you there, his tongue teasing your bottom lip before exploring the warm channel of your mouth, you can feel the fingers of his gloved hand move back to their place between your thighs to trace your folds, gathering your slick on his fingertips. It makes you whimper into his mouth, causing him to groan deeply in response before parting from your lips.

"I think you've got one more in you, mayfly. You'll give me one more, won't you?"

"One more."

Oh, you're in trouble.

[vashwoo]

additional feature

pairing: vash the stampede x afab! fem!reader content: smut (MDNI!) cw: questionable usage of this man's prosthetic fingers, c.lit play, tristamp coded vash because of the arm color but the others can have some coochie as a treat a/n: been in my notes app for forever. i cannot believe my first fic in awhile is smut and it's even my first trigun fic. ashamed. shaking out the dust and sand from my brain just like vash shakin' out the sand from his arm.

brad is a genius and knew the blonde would gunk up his masterpiece with sand at some point... so he provided a neat lil feature to help shimmy out the granules from the tiny crevices!

On the desert planet that was Noman’s Land, sand was a cruel devil for mechanical bits and bobs. Constantly eroding the cheap lacquers and choking up the gears in more intricate machinations made being an engineer a more annoying task. Hence why Brad, genius that he is, had equipped the blonde gunman’s arm with a little special something to rid the little granules from the intricate joints that made up the malachite arm. 

“This is the annoying part; gets... so… gritty– Eep!”

The blonde man squawks as he flails his left arm around, jerkily stretching his lithe fingers. The dual suns’ rays reflect off of the flat planes of his limb, occasionally blinding you as you watched him fumble around. Speckles fell from the crevices as he slapped his other hand against the jewel toned forearm, but the grimace on his face told you that it wasn’t quite fixed yet. Before you could offer to helpfully brush it down with a random paintbrush you picked up from the previous town, he fiddled with something at his inner bicep and the teal arm buzzed to life. 

Sand granules vibrated and seemingly shimmied out of the tighter spaces of his arm and fingers, and he breathed a sigh of relief as he happily wiggled his digits again. A clear lack of stuttered arcs in their movements told you the sand battle was won. 

Distantly, the others in your ragtag group argued about the lack of water and supplies for the next few hours, but your brain wanted nothing to do with that conversation. In fact, the mechanical whirring of his arm mimicked the static of your empty skull. Not a single thought was between your eyes at that moment.

Words died in the back of your throat and were replaced with absolutely salacious thoughts. Those thoughts raced through your mind and the blood pumped wildly in your ears (and between your legs). You fiddled with your fingers nervously as you cleared your throat to grab the blonde's attention.

“Say, Vash,” you coughed, and his eyes darted to yours in interest at the awkward tone you’ve suddenly adopted, “I’ve got an… idea.”

Those big blue eyes blinked owlishly at you as he curiously tilted his head. 

“What’s up, Mayfly?”

As soon as the group stumbled into town, divvied up the keys, and parted ways, the door of your motel room was barricaded by a splintered chair because the lock didn’t live up to its namesake. 

“Curious about this, huh?” Vash’s teasing murmur against the shell of your ear snapped your attention back to the present. “Were you wondering how it would feel… against… your–”

The tip of his cool, jade finger floated down and graced the swollen bud between your legs. Before you could snap a little jab in his direction, the droning mechanism whirred to life again, except this time, Vash wasn’t trying to rid himself of sand. With a yelp, you curled in on yourself, plush thighs caging the broad man’s hands. Your body jerked and he laughed breathlessly, cooing as his flesh-and-blood hand pried your legs apart. This man was teasing you! Turning the buzzing fingers on and off? How cruel–

“So lewd of you,” he cooed your name, delighted by your body’s honest reactions.

Tease. Bastard. Where’d this confidence come from? 

He tenderly pressed chapped lips against the back of your neck, pecking you three times over. When you embarrassingly squirmed against him and curled in again, he fussed. “M-Mayfly, don’t hide,” he breathes, his voice laced with poorly masked desperation. Your attention was taken and you ceased your squirming at the breathlessness of the man holding you. “Just wanna make you feel good.” 

For Vash the Stampede, succumbing to hedonism was a transgression against his moral code. Yet, when it comes to his precious Mayfly, your happiness and pleasure were equally his own, and he was a selfish sinner learning to indulge. 

He would never come to you with this... idea. But he won’t lie that it came to mind once. 

Well, twice. 

Okay, maybe a few times before the two of you had become entangled in each other.

For every stuttered gasp you released, he mirrored it. For every choked moan you bit back, his hips bucked in response to wordlessly beg you to let go in his arms. 

It made you wonder who was going to finish first. It made him wonder why he took this long to do this. It was all for you, after all. Your pleasure was his.

The gunman’s ragged back rested against the chilled wall of the dim motel room, pulling you taut against his warmth. He protected your back from pressing uncomfortably against the metal over his heart, shifting your body to lean on the rightmost side of his chest. His soft hair tickled you at times, constantly adding ammo to the reasons to squirm in his lap.

Vash’s touch was grounding, yet it also sent you straight for the clouds. His initial hesitant ministrations were gaining confidence the more you sang for him and arched so prettily in his grasp; his index and middle fingers moved at a languid pace, playing you like a seasoned musician performing their magnum opus.  

At the start, he expressed concern over the idea of using his arm’s ugly, brutish, and utilitarian functions on your soft body. He sputtered in surprise when you first mentioned it earlier in the day; he had frantically gestured to his shining arm, babbling and asking you to confirm what he thought you had said. Crimson heat rose to his ears and it was not from the suns beating down on his neck.

Vash was certainly surprised by your proposal, but again, it wasn’t necessarily the first time it came to his mind.

Even as the two of you first settled against the musty sheets on the mattress, his hesitation spoke volumes with the way his fingers ghosted your core. After much coaxing and promises to stop him if it hurt, he finally, cautiously, pressed his strong fingers where you needed them most. The jade fingers weren’t vibrating though. Only when you complained with a whined cry of his name did he turn it on with bated breath.

Well, Vash quickly learned the tremoring metal was not too much against your core, and hearing your stuttered gasps? The practiced gunman was delighted to find out his body could serve you even better than before.

Currently, each time your legs twitch inwards, he’d whine with pouted disagreement and sweet talk your body to open back up to his touch by nudging your thighs apart again. His petulant huff raced past your ear and your attention would wrap around his next words. “So wet, Mayfly,” he breathed, awe lacing his voice. “Is it that good? Am I doing okay?”

Genuinely, Vash wanted to be nice, so he stopped his flicked motions to let you answer. His fingers rested on your clit, but didn’t cease the vibrations. With trembling, yet practiced fingers steadily pulsing against you, your head flew back onto his shoulder as you choked out your pleasure, “S-so good, Vash!” 

Oh god, you sounded wrecked and beautiful to this man’s ears. The man always loved how his name was uttered from your lips. Your compliment held an unsaid cry for him to continue, so he hummed happily as his fingers sped up their strides, flicking up and down, and occasionally chasing well-practiced circles. The vibrations from his hand seemed to amp up in strength and your hands flew to his strong legs, digging your nails into his skin. His hand was suddenly drenched and his breath caught at the back of his throat. 

His loving pace faltered for a beat at the sting of your grip as he groaned, mindlessly nuzzling the back of your neck with his nose. The crescent marks on his legs would never scar like the others on his body because you’d never harm him in such a way, but a ruined part of his mind prayed you did. Vash’s free hand trailed up from your tummy to cup one of your breasts to gently toy with the swollen nubs, pulling you close against his body. 

“You’re so wet,” he moans brokenly and gingerly nips at the juncture of your neck. His fingers were starting to clumsily slip from the slick drowning his fingers, but he was determined to be so good and do well. That’s all the Humanoid Typhoon ever wanted to be for you, after all. If he was blessed to touch an angel and make her sing with his erred hands, the least he would do was give her a glimpse of heaven, right? 

“A-are you getting close, Mayfly? Can feel her throbbin’ f’me…” he slurs, his fingers working overtime as he flicked and massaged you. You wailed softly as he seemed to establish a steady rhythm after your sudden deluge from earlier. Before he can moan out yet another nose-bleeding-inducing whimper, your hand shoots out and halts all of his progress. You yank his arm away and a confused ‘bwuh?’ slips from the blonde angel in the room. Before he can protest, you awkwardly crane your head around and stare him down; his voice, worry, and confusion fizzle away at the dazed gaze you grace him with. 

Although the room was dim this late at night, the lantern illuminated your silhouette well; every curve on your body was highlighted by the warm light. Your chest heaved as you caught your breath from his little onslaught of pleasure.

‘Wow.’

You laughed; did he say that aloud? 

Kind of embarrassing, but–

Desperate want painted your pretty little face as you pant at him. His grip on your body loosened as he felt your legs twitch, letting you rearrange the two of you however the hell you wanted. 

He’d follow you anywhere. 

When you lifted yourself from his body to shakily turn and face him, a hum bubbled in his throat before your fingers coyly traveled down your front, spreading yourself under his gaze. His cerulean eyes had followed your fingers’ dance and he swallowed dryly. 

Wet.

So wet. 

He did that. 

Your thighs were quivering as you balanced yourself on your knees, and if he stared hard enough and long enough, he was sure he’d see you drip onto the sheets. 

What a waste that would be, though.

Dumbly, his jaw slackens he stares at your lower half glistening with the obvious sign of your love for him. Distantly, his left hand continued to buzz against your flesh and you laughed at the tickling sensation as you placed your hands on his tense shoulders to steady yourself.

His brain was going to short circuit like the very first time you allowed him to even see an inch of your bare skin. The hardworking pink thing in his skull cheered over and over as his eyes continued to glaze over at the gift in front of him.

Your plump lips were mouthing salacious words down at him but were only partially registering in his clouded brain. 

Something about ‘being inside’ and ‘finishing together’–

His wide eyes snapped back up to yours when you planted your hips firmly against his. Oh god, his pants were so ruined but he didn’t care. Not when you were looking down at him with all the love in your eyes as you sighed out his name in bliss.

It sounded so pretty from your lips. 

The Humanoid Typhoon felt dizzy, oh so dizzy…

You purred when his hands shakily found their home on your hips, “c’mon Plant boy. Let’s get those pants off of you, huh?” 

Vash the Stampede had never clumsily unbuckled his ruined pants so fast in his life. Can’t blame the guy though. His pretty litte Mayfly laughing and sitting on his lap made it really difficult. 

[peachyloveswriting]

What would Vash, Wolfwood, and Knives do about sick reader? Like reader knew they had been getting sick for a few days but saying stuff like "I sneezed from the dusty sand" or "I choked on my spit. I wasn't coughing. " they keep coming up with stuff to say till they have a fever and collapse.

YES. MORE FOR KNIVES. I actually really enjoy writing for knives. He's such a complicated character to get right because he hates humans and more often than not the reader is portrayed as human. His feelings are so contradictory but I love it.

You're Only Human (After all)

SUMMARY: Vash, Wolfwood, and Naï, find out that you've been hiding a sickness from them. The outcome feels like a nightmare come true.

NOTES: Vash and knives parts are very long. There's a shit ton of angst but there's also hurt/comfort. I'd say it took me 16 hrs total from start to finish and that's partially because a huge part of Kives original part got deleted and yeah... I couldn't remember some of it. Enjoy tho lol.

⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝

Vash

Setting up camp for the night was no easy task, getting up to gather what everyone needs to sleep comfortably while helping Meryl set up her own tent. Yours always comes last and before you can even finish Roberto is asking you to help him cook. You never stop working and seize every opportunity to stay on your feet, the restlessness that comes with stagnancy kills you. Through constantly throwing yourself into work is painful and tiring, it's been even more so than usual.

"Hey kid. Come and help with this roast."

You ignore Roberto's request, too tired to even think straight much less give a coherent thought, only curling further into the backseat of the truck. In the back of your throat has settled an itch, one that's not quite there but prominent enough to make you force down a cough. It bubbles up suddenly, making you gasp for air in-between coughs. Your throat burns in pain and tenses as it stops.

Soft foot steps pad up to the open door. Meryl peeks in at you with worry before she fixes herself right. "Uh... Sorry if I'm bothering you but could you help me with my tent again?" She clasps her hands together, eagerly waiting for your answer.

Nick watches from the outside of his own tent, gazing at your still form while his hands blindly settle the cross firmly into the sand. He doesn't decide to speak until Meryl extends a hand to tap you. "I'll do it." He offers.

Meryl turns to look at him with a disgruntled smile. "Thanks?" He scoffs. "Yup. Don't mention it. And close the door while you're at it."

Meryl looks at your limp form, not wanting to close any limbs in the door she checks just to be sure before she carefully closes the door. Just before walking away she takes one last peek inside to see if she disturbed you but you haven't moved an inch. Taking a deep breath she turns to stand beside Nick while he puts her tent together.

The night carried on and with it came Vash. To everyone else the night went on as usual but to Vash, a part of him was missing. When he looked for your tent he was sad to find that it hadn't been set up at all. This only worried the blonde further. His stomach would churn with unease the further he looked around. There was no sign on you anywhere. Just as he was about to peek around the truck, a soft finger tapped his shoulder. He turned to find Meryl gazing up at him.

"If you're looking for them..." She points to the truck. "They've been there all evening."

Hia gaze follows her pointed finger to the backseat of the truck. Offering her thanks, he rushes over to the truck and pulls open the door. You lay curled up on the farthest side away from him, your face hidden and tucked away in your arms. Face softening, Vash climbs into the empty space by your feel and closes the door behind him, ensuring privacy.

"Mayfly?" He leans over curiously, his hand slipping under your chin to lift your face into view. You grimace, your head swimming in agony and dizziness. "Are you okay?" His cries crease in concern.

Lazily, you lift a hand to swat him away. Setting your head back on your arms he lifts the back of his hand to your forehead. "You feel hot. Maybe you should get out of the car. Get some fresh air." His hand brushes over your head in a soothing manner.

"I'm fine." He smiles at your half-hearted grumble.

"If you say so..." Swiftly grabbing your shoulder, Vash scoops you up into his arms with ease and scoots to press his back to the door. He spreads his legs and leans back just enough for you to lay comfortably on his chest. You're just lethargic enough that you flop against him, no resistance whatsoever.

He stayed with you until the morning, upset when he kept waking up to you practicing choking in your sleep. Every time he raises a hand to your forehead it burns his skin. You were certainly running a fever of some kind or at the very least sick, he's never seen you so lethargic before. You've always stayed on your feet, working yourself to the brink, till' your legs won't carry you anymore. This might just be one of those spells but you never left the truck. Even when he got out to help everyone pack up you didn't move.

When everyone gathered inside the truck, you didn't move, allowing yourself to get shoved around to make room for Wolfwood and Vash. As Vash climbed in, he scowled at the priest who shoved you about as if you were some object he could just discard. Gently scooping you far enough to slide in. he laid you back down in his lap and held you close, allowing you to get some rather comfortable rest. Hours later, you woke up in a daze. The heat consuming you from head to toe is unbearable, breathing comes harshly.

You can see legs moving through the sand below you as you wake up but very quickly realize they're not yours. You begin to feel hands under each of your knees and your body pressed against another. Below you, Vash's coat flaps into view, the edges of it tugging about with each step.

You groan, dizzy from the heat and disoriented. Your head is reeling about, begging to go back to sleep and crying at the same time. Every part of you aches and your throat feels like it's been grated like fine cheese.

"You're awake!" Vash turns his head to look at you nuzzled into his shoulder. Swallowing harshly, you lift your head to glance at him. "Where are we?"

You cringe at the sound of your own voice, sounding like a decrepit frog that smokes cigarettes. It feels like you haven't drank in forever and your stomach rumbles angrily. Suddenly Vash jumps to keep you up on his back, you whine at the sudden jolt and dig your hands into the chest of his shirt. He grimaces at your painful response.

"You okay?" Forcing yourself to right yourself, you begin to wriggle in his hold. "M' fine. Put me down."

Vash's brows creased with worry. "Are you sure? You've-"

Pushing from his hold you fall into the scorching sands. Hissing in pain, you jump to your feet jostling your brain into a wave of vertigo. Your hand shoots out to find purchase while your vision grows dark. Tingles flood your body as a low dull pain pulses in your head. Two arms scoop you up into security, keeping you from falling back into the hot sands. "Whoa!"

Vash steadies you as you lean against him limply for help. "Slow down. You're not well." His hands move to your shoulders. A long drawn out couch slips from your lips. You shake away from his hole to walk towards the group, they're way ahead of you occasionally glancing back to stop and wait. "I'm fine."

You trudge forward at your own discretion and Vash follows closely behind. "Let me carry you Mayfly." A hand comes to rest at the small of your back. Beneath you, your legs shake horribly, threatening to lose your balance. It's hard just to push forward in the sand without wincing from the sore ache that settles into your bones. "I'll be fine, Vash."

The desert becomes distant, a cold covering your whole body like ice. "I'm..." The sky began to darken, blotting out the light from the suns and the sand beneath you.

"oh!" Slipping forward, Vash stretches an arm over your chest to stop your falling body from collapsing in the sand. The over exertion is obvious and your body makes it hard to deny. Vash can see it clearly, the bleary look in your eyes as he scoops your bridal style in his arms. Gazing down at you with an unreadable expression, he shakes his head. "How long has this been going on?"

You roll your head into his chest, shielding your eyes from the suns. Breathing in to speak you choke out a cough, you can hardly catch a breath in-between. When you finish, your head falls back softly. "A few weeks ago." You mumble weakly.

A frown settles upon his lips as he looks ahead at the horizon, the glare on his shades stops you from seeing his eyes. Those are always a dead give away for how he's feeling. Those shades work wonders for him.

Taking a shaky breath, you relax in Vash's arms. "Don't worry. I'll take you to a doctor. You should rest until then."

You shake your head. "Won't you get tired of carrying me?"

He looks back down at you smiling softly. The smile reaches up to his eyes, softening his gaze and wrinkling the corners of his eyes. "I will. It's okay, I'm supposed to take care of you Mayfly. Just rest." His voice is so soft he's almost whispering. It makes a heat swirl in your chest as you close your eyes.

"I'm sorry Vash."

He chuckles. "It's alright my love."

Wolfwood

Sweat beads along your forehead as you follow the giant wandering cross in front of you. Your wavering pace slows you down even more the longer you push forward. It's so far away now. When was the last time you even had water? God, you can't remember. Trudging through the sands makes the ache in your already sore leg grow worse, you can barely lift your feet from the ground.

Breathing is a labor, it burns your lungs with each breath you take, the longer you go without calling for Nick's help the more dire this starts to become. The dull ache in your head is pounding with the intensity of the suns and your body grows weaker. You regret lying to Nick before he ran out of gas, you knew them you should have said something but the situation was bad enough. You thought saying something then would only cause more worry to settle in Nick's mind and you didn't want to burden him.

Suddenly, searing hot pain blossoms on your exposed skin and sand hugs your body as it lands. Your mind is foggy and blank, you watch Nick grow smaller in the distance not even bothering to look back at you. You rasp his name but your throat doesn't allow you to call any louder than a simple talking tone. After traveling with Nick everywhere, you never thought it would end like this, laying in the sand pathetically sick because of your irrational fear and Inability to ask for help.

Suddenly, in the distance. The space between you and Nick closes in. He runs towards you, tossing the cross all about on his back. Distantly you can hear him call your name for the first time ever, he's only ever called you by silly nicknames. You don't give much care to mutter a response and sink into the sand.

Panic squeezes in Nick's chest and he drops his cross beside him to tend to you. Grabbing your shoulders he turns you over and sits you up in his lap. "C'mon. Don't fall asleep." He begs.

You cough up a laugh. The concern in his face grows even more severe with your seeming obliviousness to the situation. "I'm fine..." You want to shrug him off so bad but even moving feels like hell.

Heart pounding in his chest, Nick swallows harshly "You haven't been fine since we got stranded, have you?" The back of his hand feels freezing as he presses it to your forehead. You grimace with discomfort and whine. "I'm not stupid." Carefully, he stands with you in his arms.

As he turns to walk away you spot his cross on the ground. "Your cross..." Nick acknowledges it with a hum. His face is stern, pointedly staring straight again with his lips pressed into a thin line. "I'll get it back later. You need medical attention first."

You smile. "So you're saying you care?"

His grip on you begins to tighten. *Of course I do! Don't fucking scare me like that again." He growls.

"Sure." Sleep tugs your eyes closed, pulling at your weight the less conscious you become. Nick glares down at you, squeezing you tighter against him. He feels your body grow limp in his arms, heart dropping to his stomach.

"What did I say? Don't fall asleep." You're jostled awake with a groan. "Just let me sleep. Please."

"And if you don't wake up again?" He's become eerily nonchalant. "What then?" The edge in his voice shakes with worry, tracing the thoughts of what might unfold after your death. His chest aches at the thought of losing you and he won't say it but he's scared of losing you. "It'll kill me..."

Nick will never admit it but you do more for him then he lets on. Your company alone could last him a lifetime, your smile, it could make him happy forever. Everything about you fixes everything bad about him and he's not ready to give that up. Especially not over some silly illness. Hearing his words and understanding what he means, you coo quietly and rest your hand over his heart. Your touch quells his fraying nerves.

"I drag you down Nico." Your heart weighs heavy in your chest. "It might be better if you leave me behind."

Stomach clenching wearily, Nick grunts. "No." Venoms laces his tongue. "You idiot. I love you too much to do that." You gaze at him in surprise. "Don't look at me like that. I said what I said. You should just be quiet and conserve your energy."

Hesitant, you gaze at him for a few moments longer before letting your head rest carefully against his chest. "I'll get you help. Just hang in there."

Millions Knives

Sitting beside Naï, he plays the piano. Quietly, you watch his fingers dance over the keys as they belt out a dramatic yet familiar melody. It strikes the soul as misunderstood, you know it well. Many times has Naï played this song in your presence. You've heard everything he plays, as his words command you stay by his side under his watchful eye. Many of his followers take this as a sign of mistrust, a show that the human race will never take his attention. Naï has said to you before: "Hear me and believe my word. My trust in you is not misguided, I only wish to protect you from those who wish to harm you."

Despite hating humans, Naï knows his fair share about the ways they operate. He understands the delicacy of your body and handles it with immense measure and meticulous care. He keeps you near to prevent his followers from making a move to take your life. For him, he even strives to understand more about you, to protect you. His care for you and your well-being runs deep, although Naï doesn't quite understand why it's you he's so careful about, he understands that you make him feel something.

Naï, even in his own strange way, shows that he cares for you. He appreciates the company you keep him and he's not foreign with thanking you. Just the same your appreciation runs deep, he offers you friendship, safety, food, and a place to lay your head at night. Above all else, his friendship and company you find the most rewarding, to know so much about him is to see under his facade. Knowing that underneath all of those sharp blades, a gentle, and caring man resides. Only sparing himself to his closet confidants.

Beautifully, the keys fade into an epilogue, an ending to the story it once opened with. You find that as you watch with a smile your lungs begin to burn. A cough tries to bubble its way past your lips, it takes your breath away and chokes you on the way out. Turning away to cover your mouth, you find it hard to catch your breath and tears blur your vision. The melody that had once carried through the room now falls silent in the stead of your sputtering.

Worry tingles in Naï's chest as you gasp for air beside him, he's unsure of what to do or what this is. His knowledge might be expansive but he still has so much to learn, about sickness, potential threats, the many causes of death. His lack of awareness makes his heart quell with concern and his mind reel is fear.

"Are you alright?" His voice carries through the harmonious room. Tentatively his hand hovers over your back.

You wipe the tears from your eyes to see his angelic face clearly. "It's okay Naï, just choked on my spit."

Cautiously, he looks you over with care checking for abnormalities along your external appearance. Your eyes are dark and lightly sunken, despite noticing this fast Naï goes along with your word and nods in earnest. You feel scrutinized under his gaze, like he's judging every part of you without ever saying a word.

"Choked?" He queries. "Is this choking, dangerous?" His brows crease with worry.

"Well..." Recalling gasping for air, the onslaught of coughing as it keeps you from breathing in deep enough to catch your breath makes you choose your next words with ease. "Yes. It can be, depending on the circumstances. But it can also be prevented"

Intensely focused, Naï nods. "How can this be prevented?" His absolute attention is always divulged onto you anytime you talk, it's endearing, the way he listens to every detail. Nothing you've said has ever been forgotten by him, he remembers everything, making it a point to bring it up when useful later on. It tells you that he cares about what you have to say, knowing that makes your heart soar.

"Drinking a glass of water, or anything of likeness, then there's the heimlich. You should ask Con'rad about that if you want to understand it." Although many of the things that Naï knows about humans have been acquired through you, there are many things you can't find the energy to explain. Best someone else with more knowledge explains it to avoid any confusion.

"I'll go visit him then." Naï stands. "Come. I'll escort you to the room." Gently, you hold his outstretched hand, letting it guide you to your feet. He holds it gingerly as he pulls you alongside him. His hand is soft and warm, inhumanely so, you find comfort in his warmth.

The more time chugs along the more you begin to realize you've fallen I'll, coughing spells out of nowhere, extreme fatigue, loss of appetite. The coughing grows worse with intensity, burning your sore throat, your body wastes energy faster, and waking up in the morning becomes a difficult task. For longer times you would lay in bed seeking the comfort of your companion, Naï, despite hiding your growing illness from him. He's buying into what you told him, though it won't last for very long. If he's really that worried he'll seek the knowledge of Con'rad once again.

He knows your habits even down to the smallest details, including your sleep schedule. Though sleep is the only time he lets you spend alone, that's only in his room, the only ones allowed inside are you and him. As far as his knowledge goes, since you last went in about a day ago, no one has bothered to enter. Not even Naï himself would go to see you. He figured you only needed a little alone time before you might come out again to grace him with your company. The time rolled around for you to come out but the door never opened, Naï waited in anticipation, trying to stace off the minutes to spare you time.

The paranoia got to him before you could.

The whole time you've been inside he's only let the door out of his sight once, for only a short amount of time. Very few people would dare enter knowing what punishment would await them if he ever found out but just the thought of someone going in and hurting you... It makes his blood boil. He paces just outside with worry and frustration beginning to build just beneath the surface. He has to know you're okay, he has to hear you speak... No. No, he needs something more... He has to see you physically. Otherwise, he might just lose his mind wondering what awaits him inside.

Eager to finally see your face again, to hear your voice and feel your touch, he pushes the door open. Eyes scouring the darkness for your form he finally spots you laying still beneath the covers of his bed, you make no sound as the door closes and you stay still even as he says your name. In his chest, his heart begins to pound wildly, sending the rest of his body into a frenzy of feelings.

He rushes to the bedside, a singular blade extending to turn the lights on. The darkness cowers away at the flick of a switch and your form is revealed amongst his mattress. Almost stripped bare of your clothes you lay unmoving, almost as if the life from inside you has been drained. Chest straining, Naï climbs over top of your body lowering his head to your chest, your skin feels cold against his ear as he listens for a heartbeat.

Just underneath your delicate skin beats the rhythm of your life, it beats on even as you lay utterly still. Naï can feel his shoulders relax, the sound of your heart telling him that you're indeed still alive, but as he pulls away to further examine you he knows something's not quite right. it makes his stomach churn with unease. Your skin tone seems off, like something's not quite the same as it was before.

As softly as he can, Naï shakes your body. After the first movement he expects you to come to life with a groan but you don't move. If your heart is still beating, why won't you wake up?

"My flower, wake up. You've slept long enough. I need your company by my side." He shakes you harder this time. "Petal, wake up. I demand it." He tries to sound like he normally does when addressing everyone else but he can't seem to find it in himself to truly yell at you, to demand something of you. Especially not when you're stripped of your freedom at this moment.

Naï's throat tightens, his brows creasing with worry and fear. He's so confused, you usually wake up when he calls for you but now he's got nothing. It scares him, knowing just how fragile you really are, it aside now that he rushes you to Con'rad.

Before he parts to the lab, he envelopes your exposed body in his cloak and carries you in his arms. Nothing like this takes more than the blink of an eye, Con'rad barely even has time to process his master's sudden appearance. Everything is thrust at him at once, the fear and confusion that riddles Naï's face when he presents you to Con'rad, how he begs for him to find out what's wrong, to fix you.

Con'rad frowns at your unconscious body as he takes you from his master's arms. "Careful! Don't hurt them." Naï warns.

Con'rad can only cast him a glance before he sets you down on a table, he collects his supplies needed to check you over and watches as Naï retracts the cloak that is wrapped so tightly around your body.

To plants, a decade is only supposed to feel like a day. So why did Naï feel like it had already been years when it was only minutes. He stared at you intently, waiting for you to wake up, willing you to do something. But you didn't move at all. Naï was anxious from tip to bottom, so to quell his nerves Con'rad began explaining things to him.

"Like we discussed, humans are susceptible to many things, illness being one of them. Should a person go an extended amount of time without medication or medical attention, it can cause death. This happens to be the case with your friend. You're lucky you found them when you did Knives. I can still run this IV to get the right fluids in check. After, you can take them back to your room, the IV has to stay in until it's empty though." He eyes the bleach blond from the corner of his eyes as he tapes the IV to your arm. "Again. You're lucky. They should recover soon. But they'll need plenty of rest."

Naï steps away from the wall he had leaned on, the blades slither out from behind his back and circle you carefully until they meld into his cloak once more. Content, he carefully picks you from the table with ease, using another metal appendage to grasp the IV bag.

"Thank you." Naï bows his head to Con'rad in thanks. Before he can reply Naï is gone again just as fast as he appeared.

Returning back to the privacy of his room, Naï gently sets you at the edge of the bed where he could rest the IV bag beside you. Leaving you swaddled in his cloak, Naï climbs up the bed behind you. For a moment he's hesitant to touch you, like it's the wrong thing to do but he pushes forward. Softly laying an arm over your waist, he pulls you flush against him, his face tucked into the back of your neck. He would lay here until you woke, until then, Naï would relish in the feeling of your body against his and find comfort in your presence by his side.

He might lecture you when you wake up, or inspect you thoroughly for any other sickness, but he also might enjoy your waking company for a moment before he does anything else.

[anyasathenaeum]

Cherish You (Vash x Reader smut)

A/N: Hey guys, I'm back from the dead after one hell of a time. Anyways, literally nobody asked for this, I just felt like writing this because Vash is the loml and he deserves to be loved and be given lots of orgasms. I'm still awful at writing smut so please don't perceive me okay thanks bye Warnings: MINORS DNI, AFAB!reader (female terms used), smut (lots of it), P in V sex, unprotected sex (WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT, FOLKS), overall loving & tender sex, restraints, riding, praise, a hint of angst (poor baby Vash struggles with his self-worth), reader doesn't cum (intentionally), crying Word Count: 4.8k

You had known Vash long and well enough to know when he was having a bad day, just like he was today.

While it may not have been obvious to others, with his troubles well-hidden behind his bright smile and goofy personality, you could see past it all to notice the pain in his eyes. His smile, while blinding to others, was hollow to you, and his goofiness seemed slightly more exhausted and strained than usual, as if he were overexerting himself to keep up the façade of everything being alright.

Sure enough, when the two of you had retreated to the safety of your room in some shabby little inn for the night, the carefully curated mask that Vash wore chipped off piece by piece, revealing the wounded, tortured soul of the man underneath it all. The man who believed he deserved nothing good in this world, that only sadness and evil and death would follow him until the end of time.

The man that you loved more than anything.

"Vash..." You called softly to him, kneeling down in front of him as he sat on the edge of the bed.

You gazed up worriedly into his face, a face so beautiful and yet so marred by pain that didn't belong there.

"Don't worry, Mayfly," Vash replied immediately, looking at you with a weak and tired smile, "I'll bounce back in the morning. I just... don't feel too good right now. I'm sure some rest will fix me right up."

"Don't give me that, Stampede," you retorted immediately, feeling frustration rise within you as you reached up and cupped your lover's face in your hands gently yet firmly. "I'm the one person in this world who can see through your lies. You know that."

Your words, while meant kindly, still made Vash flinch slightly, his eyebrows furrowing as he squeezed his eyes shut and let out a heavy sigh. He had no answer to your words, which was an answer in itself - he'd been caught in his blatant lie and he knew it. You knew him better than anybody else, so why did he even bother trying to brush you off, to convince you that he was fine when he was far from it?

You could tell that Vash was struggling with trying to voice what was bothering him, so you waited patiently, your thumbs gently stroking his cheeks as you granted him the time and space to find his voice. Instead, you focused on taking in every little detail of his face - his fluffy blonde hair, his beautiful and expressive blue eyes, his soft lips, the curve of his nose, the mole under his eye, every little piece of him.

"I... I can't protect you, (Y/N). Nothing I do ever seems to stop all the death and anguish that seems to haunt me. Nothing I do is good enough. I lose everything and everyone. I'm afraid... that one day, I'll lose you to it all, too. I can't risk losing you, (Y/N). Not you. Never you. You're... you're the one life I can't ever part with, and you're the one person I never deserved."

Vash's words echoed through the empty room, filled with such fear, pain, heartbreak and love that you felt your eyes begin to sting slightly. You looked up just to see the infamous outlaw gazing down at you, his blue eyes watery and filled with the same emotions you'd heard in his voice.

"Shut up."

You couldn't stop yourself, your tone quiet but your words filled with an underlying anger as they spilled forth, your whole body trembling.

"Shut up, Vash. Stop talking like that, you hear me? You deserve love and happiness and peace. Nothing less than any of that. I chose you. My heart chose you, and it continues to choose you each and every day that I live on this planet. It deemed you worthy. So, I don't believe what you're saying for a second. I love you, Vash. I always have. No matter what happens or what has happened, I love you. I'm not going anywhere. You're stuck with me, Stampede. Understood?"

Vash's gaze never left you, not even for a second as you spoke, his blue eyes widening at your words and a few tears slipping down his cheeks as he took in what you had said to him. His brain struggled to comprehend how you could possibly love him as much as you did while his heart practically sang in his chest, calling out to its other half that lived in your chest.

As Vash sat there on the side of the bed, seemingly frozen in place, you stood up before pulling Vash tightly into your arms, holding him as close as you possibly could against you, pressing kisses into his soft hair. After a moment or two, you felt Vash's arms wrapping around you in return, one warm and one cold as he pressed you against him, his face burying itself into your belly as he took comfort from you.

You could feel him trembling as he clutched onto you, his fingers digging slightly into your skin as he held you close, soft, shaky whispers of "I love you. I love you, Mayfly" escaping him against your skin as Vash struggled not to cry.

You ran your fingers through his blonde hair, the tips of your fingers just grazing over his scalp in a soothing, gentle motion, attempting to soothe the love of your life as best as you could. You could feel Vash calming slowly, his breathing evening out and his trembling subsiding as he breathed in your familiar scent and took in your comforting warmth and gentle touch.

"Hang on a second," you murmured to Vash gently once he had calmed, stepping away from him for a moment and causing him to whine loudly in protest at the lack of your embrace and warmth.

You quickly stripped off your clothes, piece by piece, as quickly as you could until you were completely bare before walking back over to Vash, whose eyes were wide in surprise at your sudden nudity, a slight blush spreading over his cheeks.

You giggled at the sight of the colour rising in Vash's cheeks, "Why are you blushing, my love? You've seen me naked many times."

"I've also seen the suns rising over the dunes many times in my life, Mayfly. Doesn't make it any less beautiful every time I see it. Just like you," Vash replied, his eyes taking in every bit of your body as you stood before him.

Now, you were the one blushing, looking off to the side for a moment before smiling lovingly at the man sat before you. You reached out and took Vash's flesh-and-blood hand into yours, intertwining your fingers with his gently before guiding his hand to your breast, letting it rest on your skin. You heard a shaky little breath escaping him as his hand cupped your breast oh-so-gently, and you couldn't help but smile bigger when you saw how Vash gazed at you, as if you had hung the stars in the sky yourself.

"Let me show you how much I love you, Vash," you whispered softly, your tone gentle yet firm. "Please. Let me cherish you."

Vash swallowed softly, nodding his head slowly in consent as he looked up into your eyes, heat and desire beginning to course through his body. Sex was nothing new between the two of you at this point, but something about how you were looking at Vash and how you spoke to him made him feel like something was going to be different this time.

And sure enough, as Vash reached to pull his shirt off, you quickly stopped him, your smaller hand wrapping around his bigger wrist as best as it could. You shook your head at him, smiling softly when you were met by a confused grin from him.

"I want to take care of you. Completely," you explained, a hint of heat rising to your face.

Vash blushed even darker than before at your words, but nodded assent as he let go of his turtleneck, allowing for you to take over just as you had wanted.

Slowly, silently, with nothing but loving touches and gentle caresses, you worked Vash's shirt off of him, then his boots, his holsters, his pants and his socks, leaving him in just his boxers. Your diligent and tender work of undressing him had already affected him, given the very obvious tent in Vash's underwear and the wet spot darkening and growing on the fabric.

"Sit against the headboard, please," you directed Vash gently, waiting for him to follow your request.

The Humanoid Typhoon seemed a little confused by this, but he nodded as he did as you asked, shifting so his back was resting against the headboard, with him sitting up in the bed. Vash seemed gently restless, unsure of your next move, but he trusted you with his heart and soul.

You were his best friend, his other half, his soulmate. You were the only person who had ever seen him this vulnerable, the only person who knew what Vash sounded like as he cried out and moaned in the throes of passion, the only person who knew what he tasted like. You were the only one who ever felt him inside them, the only one who had been filled by him over and over again as he moaned out confessions of love for you against your skin, the only person who would ever be with Vash that way. He belonged to you heart, body and soul, just as you did to him.

Without a word, you crawled into the bed towards Vash, making your way over to him until you were straddling his lap, your pussy grinding oh-so-gently against Vash through his boxers, pulling a hiss from his lips, his hands coming to grip onto your hips, clenching onto you tightly.

"M-Mayfly! S-Sensitive!" Vash whined out, trying to take deep breaths and calm himself, a wave of pleasure coursing through his veins as you continued to grind against him.

"I know," you cooed gently, continuing your gentle grinding as you watched Vash's expressions carefully, seeing the pleasure he was getting from your touch.

You reached over and took Vash's wrists in your own, removing his hands from your hips and bringing them up gently against the headboard, next to his head. His eyes widened as he watched you hold him, and another soft whine escaped his lips as he tried to grind against your bare pussy, clearly wanting to feel more of you.

"Not fair... wanna feel you, (Y/N)..." Vash pouted at you, gazing at you as you smiled a bit mischievously at him.

"I asked you to let me take care of you, Vash. This is part of that," You replied softly, stopping your movements altogether and making Vash groan in slight frustration at the lack of friction. "Stay here, just like this. Do you trust me?"

"Of course I do, Mayfly," Vash replied, panting softly as he tried to move his hips against you, his entire body aching for just a hint of friction from you.

You giggled as you got off of Vash entirely, teasing him further as you stood up off the bed, making Vash groan even louder, his frustration building as he whined you name, "(Y/NNNNN)!"

You couldn't help but continue to laugh softly as you dug through Vash's bag, looking around for something in particular before letting out a triumphant "Aha!" as you found what you were looking for.

Glancing over at Vash, you grinned softly and said, "Close your eyes, please."

Vash rolled his eyes playfully but conceded, closing his eyes as you made your way back to the bed, getting back into Vash's lap and straddling him once more. Gently, you took the piece of rope you had pulled from Vash's bag and tied Vash's hands to the headboard, being careful to be gentle with him and making him comfortable. When you were done with your work, you smiled softly and sat back in Vash's lap.

"There. Open your eyes, love."

Vash opened his eyes, looking over at his hands to see the ropes now binding him to the bed, and his eyes widened in surprise to see what you'd done.

"M-Mayfly? What is this?"

"You always focus on everybody but yourself. Tonight, I want to focus on just you, Vash. I want to make you feel good, I want to make you feel loved. The way I'm doing that is by ensuring you can't focus on anything but what you're feeling. Okay?"

Your voice was gentle yet firm, your words loving as you explained to the love of your life what you were hoping to do, and you could see the blush on Vash's face darkening as you explained what you wanted to do, his heart fluttering in his chest at your genuine desire to make him feel loved.

With a nod from Vash, you proceeded to gently work his underwear off of him, finally allowing his cock to spring free, already rock hard and throbbing slightly in time to his heartbeat. Globs of precum leaked from the head, dribbling down his shaft just from the few touches you had shared with him, and you felt a spike of desire and confidence go through your body at the sight of just how badly Vash wanted you.

"God, Vash... you're so beautiful," you murmured softly, tracing your hands slowly down Vash's body, taking your time with each and every scar that littered his body.

You knew Vash was sensitive about his scars, about how mutilated and broken his body looked, but to you, he was nothing short of angelic, a being of beauty beyond compare. You loved every tiny piece of him, scars and all, and you wanted to ensure that Vash understood that, that that knowledge was engraved in his soul.

A soft little whine escaped Vash as you traced down his body, your fingertips grazing over his scars with a featherlight touch, and all he could think about was just how badly he wanted to hold you, kiss you, and touch you. Vash found himself tugging against the ropes holding his hands in place, but you giggled softly and leaned in towards him, your lips teasingly a mere few centimeters away from his.

"Ah, ah, ah... no touching, Vash. Tonight's about you," You scolded him playfully.

Vash simply whined, his blue eyes filled with a mixture of pleasure, pleading and frustration, wanting nothing more than to feel you against him, to be able to hold you and touch you to his heart's content. While you weren't fully going to give into his pleading puppy-eyes, you decided that you would allow yourself to rest against him, straddling him once again and now grinding your bare pussy against the sensitive skin of his cock, a soft gasp escaping Vash's lips as he finally felt you against him.

You began to move slowly, biting your lip and letting out soft, muffled moans of pleasure as your soaked folds glided over Vash's cock, his tip nudging your clit with each thrust of your hips. You could feel Vash tensing against you, soft whimpers and pants escaping his lips as he strained against the ropes restraining him once more as you rubbed your pussy against him. The fact that he couldn't hold you as you moved against him and teased him like this was driving him crazy. Vash knew that he could easily break free from the ropes restraining him from you, but instead, he allowed you to continue your thrusts, opting instead to get lost in the pleasure you were giving him.

"B-Beautiful," you moaned against Vash's throat, pressing soft, wet, open-mouthed kisses to his skin as you continued to press your pussy against his cock, rocking back and forth with a bit more pressure, "You're so beautiful, Vash. S-So beautiful, and so good... God..."

Your loving praise mixed with such sensual and intimate touches made Vash shudder in a way you had never felt him before, his head slumping against your shoulder as you felt his whole body tensing, a loud moan escaping him as you felt his cock throbbing against your pussy.

"M-Mayfly, ha-ah! I- I'm gonna-... I'm gonna cum!" Vash cried out, his body trembling slightly against you as he felt his orgasm approaching faster than it had ever done so before.

"Cum for me, my love," you encouraged Vash gently, continuing your gentle praise and bringing your fingers up to his hair, tugging it gently as you pulled him into a passionate kiss, finally giving him a taste of you. "That's it. Cum for me. I love you. Cum for me."

With a soft cry of your name against your lips as he returned your kiss with equal passion and need, you could feel Vash coming undone beneath you. His cum spurted all over your cunt, coating both your folds and his abdomen with his seed as his orgasm washed over him, wave after wave of pleasure washing over him. Vash closed his eyes as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, panting heavily as he struggled to recover from his orgasm.

You continued running your fingers through Vash's hair as he snuggled into you, cooing to him gently as you held him close to you, "Breathe slowly, my love. Deep breaths... that's it. You did amazing. I love you so much."

Vash shivered slightly in your hold, pulling back a bit to look into your eyes, his eyes wide and his cheeks flushed from your praise and the overwhelming pleasure he was feeling. As you shifted in Vash's lap, you quickly realized that despite cumming mere moments ago, his cock was still rock hard and throbbing once again, clearly still aching for you.

"(Y-Y/N)..." Vash panted softly, looking up at you with need and slight desperation, his tone and his gaze indicating how much he still wanted and needed you.

You didn't respond, instead leaning down and pressing another softer and gentler kiss against Vash's lips, your hands gliding down his body slowly. As you reached the base of Vash's cock, you sat up a little and guided Vash to the tight ring of muscle at the entrance of your core, sinking down slowly and pushing the tip of Vash's cock into you.

The moment he entered you, a loud whine escaped Vash's lips as a gasp escaped from you, the feeling of him stretching you out and filling you making you see stars as you settled into his lap, allowing him to fully bottom out within you.

"I love you," Vash began to babble softly the moment he felt your pussy clenching down around him, his face burrowing into your neck once again as he pressed desperate kisses against your skin, frantically beginning to thrust up into you in order to feel more of you around him, "I love you so much, (Y/N), you feel so good, please... please... I need you. I want you, (Y/N), please... God, I love you."

"I love you, too, Vash. I love you so much," you moaned softly in return, pressing your palms against Vash's chest to steady yourself as you began to bounce in his lap, driving his cock deeper and deeper into you.

Endless praise spilled forth from your lips as you drove Vash deeper and deeper into you, your pussy tightening around him as he brushed that perfect spot deep inside you with each thrust. Any and all thoughts left your mind except for wanting to make Vash cum over and over again while telling him how good he was, how perfect and how beautiful, how much you loved him and how good he made you feel.

"You're everything t-to me," you gasped out, grinding down on Vash and driving his cock even deeper into you, your cunt milking him and pulling endless whines and moans from his lips as you did so, "You're my world, Vash. My universe. I-I love you, I'll always love you."

The sounds escaping Vash changed suddenly, his whines and moans suddenly becoming soft whimpers and little hiccups, and you could feel his body trembling against you in a way unlike before. As you pulled away to look at him, you realized that Vash was crying in your embrace, crystalline tears coursing down his cheeks as he looked up at you, his bottom lip quivering as he tried not to sob openly.

"Vash..." you whispered softly, slowing your movements and bringing your hands up to cup his face gently, brushing away his tears, your heart aching at the sight of his tears. "Shh... it's alright."

Vash wasn't entirely sure why he was crying - you were in the middle of making him feel amazing, and yet, as he heard your words, words of love and tenderness and devotion, he suddenly felt overwhelmed by it all. How did somebody whose hands were as stained with blood as his end up with somebody as incredible, kind and pure as you? How did your heart belong to somebody like him? Thoughts swirled endlessly through his mind, his emotions overwhelming him as you sat in his lap, holding him close and caressing his face gently.

"Look at me, love."

Your voice was gentle yet insistent, tilting his face up so Vash could look you in the eyes. You pressed gentle kisses all over his face, untying Vash's hands from the headboard and allowing him to finally wrap his arms around you tightly, clutching onto you tightly as he buried his face into your bare chest, soft sobs escaping him as he held you close.

"I l-love you s-so much," Vash whimpered softly against your skin, holding you as close to him as he possibly could as his emotions overwhelmed him. "I'm sorry, (Y/N)... I-I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize, my love," you replied immediately, kissing his face gently, "You're allowed to feel overwhelmed. It's okay. I'm here for you. I'll always be here for you, no matter what."

Another soft sob escaped Vash's lips, but instead of burying his face into you, he tilted his face up and pressed his lips to yours in a passionate, emotional and surprisingly tender kiss, his hands tangling in your hair as he pulled you against him. This kiss was Vash's way of showing you just how much he needed you, how much you meant to him, how much he loved you and never wanted to be parted from you for as long as he lived. Vash's heart ached for you, wanting nothing but to spend the rest of his life by your side, loving you, making love to you, protecting you and being happy with you, if only the universe would allow it.

A sudden upward thrust from Vash in the middle of your tender moment made you gasp against his lips, the feeling of the tip of his cock brushing against that perfect, gummy spot inside of you making your whole body shudder in his grasp. His movements were slow and deliberate, ensuring both of you could feel him thrusting every inch into you as he kissed you and held you close. Both of you moaned and whined against each other's lips, and you began to grind your hips against Vash's in time with his thrusts, somehow driving him even deeper than before.

"L-Love you," Vash borderline sobbed against your throat, "I lo-love you, Mayfly. Love you so m-much, (Y/N)."

You felt your orgasm beginning to build as Vash continued his thrusts, and you matched his tender and loving movements, trying to focus on him rather than on the pleasure you were feeling. You decided then and there that you would forfeit your pleasure in favour of ensuring Vash was looked after rather than him looking after you. You reached down and pressed down on Vash's hips, silently asking him to stop his thrusts as you continued your own movements, wanting to make him feel good.

"I love you," you gasped out softly in reply, grinding and bouncing slowly and more intentionally in Vash's lap, plunging his cock deeper and deeper into you and pulling the most beautiful sounds from him. "I love you more than anything. I'll always love you, Vash. Always. You're mine and I'm yours."

A strangled sound, half a sob and half a whine, escaped Vash's throat suddenly as he clutched onto you, pulling you down hard into his lap and holding you flush against him with incredible strength as he buried himself inside you completely, "(Y-Y/N)!"

With the cry of your name, you felt Vash spill himself inside you, his cock throbbing as his seed coated your walls in white and spilled out of you as he filled you more than he ever had before, the sticky substance pooling on Vash's thighs. His whole body was shaking against you as he came down from his orgasm, his heart pounding as he tried to calm himself down and recover from it all.

"It's okay, love," you whispered gently, embracing Vash and holding him against you tightly, letting his head rest against your chest as your orgasm slipped away from you, your pleasure disappearing. "I love you, it's okay, Vash. Breathe. I've got you."

Vash's breathing slowed gradually, his eyes sliding shut as he rested against you for a moment until his body suddenly stiffened and he sat up, his eyes wide and filled with concern as he looked at you in alarm.

"(Y/N), wait... wh-what about you?! You didn't-!"

"And I'm not going to," you cut Vash off gently yet firmly, "I'm not interested in my own orgasm right now, Vash. I just want to focus on you, love. Not me. I told you that from the beginning, didn't I?"

"But this isn't fair! You've made me cum twice, a-and... I've done nothing for you in return!" Vash exclaimed, his expression borderline upset as he took your face in his hands, looking at you worriedly.

You couldn't help but laugh at how endearing Vash was, and you kissed the palms of his hands before placing your hands overtop of his on your cheeks, intertwining your fingers with his.

"It's not a big deal, Vash," you laughed softly, gazing at him with tenderness and love.

"It is to me!" Vash exclaimed immediately, frowning and pouting as he tugged you closer to him.

"How about this, then? Let me take care of you for a little while longer, and then, afterwards, if you still want to, you can do what you'd like to make me feel good. Deal?" You offered, cocking your head to the side as you gazed at the love of your life.

"Deal."

Vash didn't hesitate to take you up on your offer before leaning in and kissing you again, this kiss gentle, loving and sweet rather than lustful and passionate. His embrace was strong, yet gentle, and as Vash held you close, he felt an overwhelming sense of true peace for the first time in what felt like a lifetime. In loving him and cherishing him as you had, not just tonight but every day before this, you had shown Vash what he meant to you. You had shown him just how much you loved him and believed in him, and it made his heart swell and break simultaneously.

"I don't know how somebody like me could ever deserve somebody as precious as you."

Vash's words made your heart ache in your chest, and you shook your head resolutely as you pressed your forehead to his, closing your eyes and taking a deep, slow breath before answering, "You deserve so much more than just me, Vash. You deserve the world."

"You are my world, (Y/N). You always have been and always will be, for as long as I live."

You couldn't help but kiss Vash once again, wanting nothing but to spend the rest of your life burrowed in his embrace, but you pulled away so you could clean both yourself and him off and continue taking care of him.

"Come on, my love. I'll run you a bath and you can soak your muscles. You've worked hard, you need to rest," you offered gently, standing from the bed and heading to the bathroom to do as you suggested.

Vash sighed happily as he slumped back against the headboard and watched you walk to the bathroom, a blush on his cheeks and a goofy little smile on his face. His heart was still awash with a flurry of emotions and residual pleasure, but the most prominent thing he felt in that moment was overwhelming love for you as he let out a quiet whisper that nobody but he could hear.

"Gods, how I love you, Mayfly. I will spend a thousand lifetimes trying to deserve you."

[chris-continues]

SUMMARY: in which you kiss (beta design) Vash <3

TW: a bit suggestive? You kiss. That’s it.

TAGS: @millionsvash @h4venpha @vashfantasy @macncherries @captaintweet

Your traveling companion was.. a rather quirky man, to say the least.

He brandished a bright red coat, clunky, round glasses, and most importantly, a mask. All of which overshadowed the rest of his lanky form, an attempt to distract from his appearance under the mask. That of which, was never revealed to you. Your curiosity perpetually poked at you from time to time- what was he hiding?

Everyone had their own share of secrets, of things they’d rather keep to themselves, and the last thing you wanted to do was to pry. Even when you both had gotten closer to one another, quite literally, as you were pressed in an alleyway awaiting for the coast to clear-

His mask never came off.

His torso pressed against yours, chest rising and falling rapidly. You could feel it from underneath your hands- he’d had to stabilize your stop earlier when you rushed into your hiding spot. You didn’t have the guts to move. Not that you really wanted to. God, you longed for him, and the lack of room between you two was something you had to savor right now. His gaze darted away from you, your breath tickling his jaw. Apart of you truly hoped people would continue their chase in pursuit of you two- if only to remain this close to him.

“Uhm-“ you paused, lips brushing his jaw accidentally.

A shiver ransacked his entire being as his arms, which were propping himself up on the wall behind you, shook slightly. “Ah, sorry-“

“Please.. quiet..” he pleaded, his mask shifting as his lips moved. You swore you could feel him biting his lip, fidgeting to the best of his ability.

You squirmed. A nervous habit.

“…mayfly…”

You tried to pull back, observing him. In the time you’ve known him, he’s relatively hard to read. Mask and all, obscuring the majority of his facial features (save for his eyes, hidden behind round orange lenses). The pinch of his brows gave way to his uneasiness.

“Did I make you uncomfortable?” You murmured, voice rumbling slightly.

He shook his head, eyes heady. His dark lashes fluttered oh so beautifully, mole peeking a bit past his mask. His reply was breathy. “You.. you can’t keep teasing me like this.”

You blink owlishly. Once. Twice. So you weren’t assuming things.

"Do you want me to stop..?" You drew your question out, heart thrumming in your chest. Zeroing in, awaiting his reply. He gave a brief shake of his head, eyes wide. As if it would kill him, he clung to any crumb of affection you had to offer. You hoped it wasn't circumstantial, knowing full well that if he had asked the same of you that you would absolutely never refuse.

In a flashing moment of bravery, you pecked his cheek. The fabric of his mask felt smooth on your lips, a small kissing sound resonating in the tight space between you two. Then his lips moved from underneath the mask, upturning the corner of his eyes cheekily.

"Hah.. you uh.. you missed." "Huh?"

You felt fabric against your lips once again, although you really wish you didn't. Curiosity pried at you, as feverish as the kiss. What was once a chaste meeting of lips separated by that godforsaken mask turned into him cupping your face, your back pressed to the wall amidst the barren alleyway. You felt his chest heaving against yours, the repetitive motion comforting, in a sense.

He felt.. so warm. So comforting. His palms to your cheeks, enveloping your face in its immeasurable value. Pure want coursed throughout you, appreciation seeping into the kiss. Perhaps one day, he'd be able to bare himself to you, to meet the plush of his lips, flesh to flesh as you breathed one another in. Perhaps one day, you'd be able to pepper kisses on his bare face the way you'd imagined every few times where you allowed your mind to wander. He was a beauty in your eyes, his lashes fluttering in a demure fashion whenever he pulled away, only to kiss you once more.

But for now? You were content with the press of your bodies, flush to one another as you felt the fabric of his mask dampen, the movement of what you knew to be his lips meeting yours.

[thetremblingroofbeam]

[bendycxmet]

Sleep Date—Vash the Stampede

Summary: Most of your and Vash's dates consist of getting cozy beneath the covers.

Word Count: ~1.2k

Content: fluff, cuddling, slight angst on Vash's side but nothing cuddling can't fix

Pairing: gn!reader x Vash the Stampede

Several rhythmic knocks echo into your living space, eyes lifting from your TV in your room. Instantly recognizing your and Vash’s shared knock pattern, you jog to the door. Living in Julai isn’t always the safest, so Vash came up with a way that you know it’s him at the door whenever he comes over. 

A second barely passes by between you opening the door and him launching himself at you, engulfing you in a hug. You can tell from the soft texture tickling your nose that he is wearing your favorite red hoodie of his. You plan on stealing it later.

“Well hello to you too lover,” you tease, head burying into his chest to inhale the very unique scent that is clearly him. 

“Couldn’t help myself. It’s been too long.” He waddles you backward, closing the door with his foot and reaching back to lock it. With how often he’s over, this is second nature to him. Your safety stays on his mind.

He continues waddling you back into your room, swinging you around so he’s the one to fall onto your bed first. Hugging him isn't enough. Your hands inch their way underneath his expansive hoodie to seek out his warm skin. You mentally cheer when you feel an instant connection to his skin beneath your fingertips, seeing he decided to come dressed simply in his sweatpants and hoodie, with no shirt underneath. Gotta love your boyfriend for knowing exactly what he wants when he comes over–as much skin-to-skin contact time he can get with you. Leaning back with an idea, Vash whines at the loss of your soothing skin on his, quieting with a blush to his cheeks as he sees you take your sweatshirt off.

Returning to his side, you burrow your way under his hoodie, popping out from his neckline to nuzzle further into his neck. Vash hisses.

“Mayfly you need to turn on your heater once and a while. It gets real cold at night. Your nose is freezing!” At the feeling of your arms wrapping around his torso, he reciprocates the movement. 

“Why need a heater when I have one now?” You poke his side. “You come over six out of the seven days a week. You should leave your apartment lease and just come live with me.”

“That would be nice, but Nico would bite my head off. He claims he’s strapped for money and needs a roommate to split the rent. But he’s always out at that one bar…”

“Well, looks like Wolfwood and I will be sharing a roomie.”

Vash reaches beneath his hoodie, fingers rubbing along your spine, lightly grazing his nails. Goosebumps rise on your skin, a shudder running through your body at the feeling before relaxing back into his caresses. Humming, you close your eyes, finally indulging in Vash’s love after a long day. It doesn’t get better than this. 

“You know the reason why I wear this hoodie every time I come over for the night?”

“Because you know it's my favorite~ plus it looks good on you. The color suits you.”

He hums. “It looks better on you when you have nothing on- hey!” you pinch his sides, ending his teasing. He exhales through his nose, collecting his thoughts, before continuing. 

“I wear it because it's stretched enough to fit us both. I don't even see it as mine anymore. It smells like me and you whenever I put it on.” You look up slowly, seeing his eyes focused on the screen behind you. Anytime Vash admits a tiny secret of his, one where he is obviously vulnerable and open with you, he finds it hard to maintain eye contact with you. He loves looking at you, taking in every curve and angle that makes up the face of the one he loves most in this lifetime. But seeing the way you look at him, with complete devotion and ardor, it's enough to make the man drop to his knees. It's hard to handle. 

You love it when Vash gets to be open like this. You love knowing he confides his feelings to you, even the ones he’s used to bottling up, especially ones connected to his past. Running all his life has led Vash to have trouble admitting any type of feelings. He was always forced to keep a smile on his face to hide any anger, sadness, frustration. Any sort of emotion that could lead the people around him to believe that he can live up to his nickname if pushed to extremes. You avert your eyes, giving a slight squeeze to his backside to let him know you’re listening. To give him time and space to confess what’s on his mind.

“I love that we can share moments like this all the time, but I wanna be able to feel you in these moments. Being able to physically touch you…it’s a privilege, Mayfly. I never had this before. I couldn’t, with how often danger followed me. I can’t imagine putting you in front of any bullets meant for.”

You sense his mind is taking a dark turn. In an attempt to pull him back to you, you recall one part of the sentence to him.

“Physical touch…hm. So that’s why you hardly ever wear shirts under your hoodies…”

He brings his hands up to cover his face, Vash’s muffled groaning sounding from beneath them.

“Sheesh, am I that obvious? Can’t fault a guy for wanting to touch his angel.”

It's your turn to groan. “Cheesy bastard…” you tease. It's your way of calming the fierce love blooming in your chest, shoving your face into the crook of his neck. Several beats of silence pass. Suspicious, you peek at him. He seems to be “watching” the movie. 

“...Vash.” you deadpan. His nose twitches, before he opens his eyes back up to watch the movie.

“Oh I like this scene coming up-”

“You liar! You fell asleep! I felt your breathing change.”

“Not true… I was just resting my eyes for a couple of seconds.” A fit of chuckles overtakes you both before you two burst out laughing. 

“I've been in a relationship long enough with you that I know exactly when you fall asleep. You can't lie to me.” His arms tighten around you before rolling you over, smothering you. You continue giggling as he lays a path of kisses up your neck to your face. 

“Can't hide anything from you! Plus, you're all warm now,” he sighs, ceasing his attack on you so that he lies his head down next to yours, content with feeling your heartbeat sync with his own, fully feeling connected with you.

“Vash, as much as I love our cuddling, I'm running out of air,” you wheeze.

Without a word, he rolls you two onto your sides, so that you can still stay cuddling chest to chest. You slump into the comfort of your pillow and his arms, closing your eyes as Vash intertwines your legs, pulling you impossibly closer. Your leg rests on his hip, finally hearing Vash’s evened and spaced out breathing hit your neck. Smiling, you lift the blanket over the two of you. 

a/n: oh to cuddle with vash...cries. part two will be out soon for this piece. it might get a lil...steamy. i'll link it here when i put it out! enjoy! muah x

masterlist

divider

[b0nten]

LOVE ME ‘TIL DEATH CRACKS BOTH OUR SKULLS OPEN; WHAT WOULD I BE WITHOUT YOU?

[SYNOPSIS] ˚⁀➷｡ you chase grief to find closure. be it in your best friends’ eyes and laughs, in the two families you built separately, or in your high school sweetheart’s fading presence.

[NOTES] ˚⁀➷｡ idk lowkey angst???

alcohol tastes bitter when you drink it from the bottle. it burns when it cascades down your throat; it pierces your stomach when you’re drinking it while hungry.

Satoru’s passed out in the bathroom. Shoko is dissociating on the couch. you’re twenty-two and they’re twenty-three, and you’re all still dreaming of the life you wish you could have had — teenage hope and childish laughs fill the cracks of three lives that have been static for the last five years and a half.

february. valentines day just passed.

you keep a small picture of Suguru in your wallet so you don’t forget his face. it makes your heart knot and your stomach self-cannibalize; the vomit dries somewhere between the esophagus and the larynx, and your head gets bashed open, like you’re a pomegranate. if someone shakes it hard enough, you can swear memories will start falling out like seeds — after all, that’s what they really are. seeds: the cores of your existence.

the tiny porch of Shoko’s apartment is freezing. unlike Satoru, she doesn’t have those fancy radiators installed. but also unlike Satoru, she doesn’t prohibit smoking indoors, so it’d be a waste of money, time and space. the dying ficus in the corner wouldn’t be there otherwise.

a stray mayfly flies in front of you, lost from its group, searching for light. it doesn’t know your best friend will probably be cleaning its corpse from under the window.

the door creaks open, but you don’t bother turning around. from the corner of your eye, you catch chalk-white hair, and a pair of toned arms lean against the railing, next to yours, in just a moment.

“it’s midnight.” Satoru announces. “February fifteenth.”

a sigh escapes from his lips — one he tried to hold back.

February fifteenth. yours and Suguru’s anniversary. a sharp inhale cuts your throat like glass shards.

cerulean blue eyes move to scan your features. it’s not uncommon for the two of you to share heart-to-hearts anymore, and sometimes Shoko joins in too. though you’ve had more heart-to-hearts with her than Satoru, the boy still reads you like an open book, even though he has to crack the spine and dig his fingers deep enough into the cellulose to get it to open.

an image flashes across your mind. you and Suguru in the middle of Shibuya crossing, dressed in puffy winter clothes, fat scarves around your necks. his gloved hands on your cheeks as he jumps the gun, finally.

“i like you more than anything.” he said then.

Satoru, Shoko, Nanami and Haibara wide-eyed and still on the sidewalk.

“i like you more than everything.” you replied. your face was numb from the cold, but Suguru’s adoring gaze always somehow turned it warmer. he did it effortlessly, really, and in return, you made the sun shine in his eyes.

your head might explode if you think about it too much, but you feel like you can’t help yourself but chase the grief — such a hard-head you were and still are — and with the continuity came the downfall.

you’ve been keeping the pyramid scheme secret, you’ve hid the traces of the Suguru from today. you’re the only one that knows about his whereabouts, you’re the only one that has skinned him alive and gently dressed him in the shell again. you still get to see his face, and feel his presence. he’s a walking ghost of your past, haunting your desperate attempt at survival while you cling onto what you’ve got left of him.

he’s cruel when he wants to, even when he doesn’t want.

but you can’t bare yourself to stop it; you don’t want to forget his touch, his smell, his voice, his heart — you’ve long forgotten the smile anyways, besides the picture in your wallet — and maybe playing pretend is the best way to do that.

you’re just as cruel. and masochistic. but as long as it doesn’t slap you in the face, it’s okay, even though it may put your head on the chopping block.

you’ve grown used to the two small pairs of hands who run through your hair while you’re sat cross-legged on the floor, and across from you, Suguru’s eyes almost sparkle again. barely, but it’s there. he’s there. for a brief moment, you gain the hope you lose forthwith, when you see the robes and the room you’re standing in.

a hand on your shoulder pulls you out of the dwam. your eyes meet the okinawan sky in Satoru’s eyes again. Riko’s smile flares across your pupil, Satoru’s laugh rings in your ear, and the phantom of Suguru’s hand holds your smaller one in his: a picture you want to have embroidered in the innermost part of your retina, to have your optical nerve feed on it for the rest of your life and project it in front of you, blindly.

“Megumi wants to go book-shopping with you.” the strongest snickers, “he read all of the books you got last time. oh, and Tsumiki told me to ask you to come over next week or so to prepare the dolls for hinamatsuri.”

you smile. Satoru always tries to cheer you up by mentioning the kids, not that he wouldn’t be able to cheer you up himself, but there’s a fondness in your eyes when you hear about them, and especially when you spend time with them, one so pure that the heir to the Gojo clan cannot get enough of it. he truly is a great friend.

“i’ll take him shopping sometime this week.” you reply, and there is the glimmer in your eyes that makes Satoru’s smile brighter than the sun, “and i didn’t forget about the hinamatsuri. i’ll be over on the 27th.” you continue.

your best friend smiles — grins — it’s so endearing to see him smile after all that he’s been through. you smile back. co-parenting like this was never something you thought you needed, yet it helped you; it brought Satoru and you closer than ever before, and even though your relationship is purely platonic, it just made you comprehend the depths of your love towards each other.

through good and bad, thick and thin, heaven and hell — you’re not letting each other be alone anymore.

the door creaks open once again.

“let’s prank call Nanami and tell him a bank credit has been opened under his name.” the doctor grins.

six eyes look at each other, and you all enter the apartment again.

the next morning, you bid each other farewell. you smile to yourself on your way back to your place, skipping through the almost fully blossomed plum trees, stopping to buy yourself a bouquet of flowers, feeling the breeze and the sun fall against your skin forgivingly.

the front of your door looks different, though. you hit your foot against a small, carton box. you pick it up, and bring it in, setting it pretty on your kitchen counter, despite Shoko’s dramatic lectures on being careful and how the possibility of weird packages being bombs is always small but never nonexistent.

you flip the lid up. a cake. a small, little cake, white frosting and baby pink hearts adorning it. on the inside of the lid, an envelope. you tear it open with adolescent curiosity, and read.

happy anniversary, sweetheart.

come by when you can, we’re waiting for you.

P.S: the twins also left you a little gift.

you touch the inside of the envelope again. sure enough, another paper lies hidden in it. your heart bursts with gentle flowers, a gardenia blooming in your aorta, etching its roots deep into your right ventricle.

hand drawn, messily but with love, four stick figures. a very tall one with long, black hair and a circle serving as a bun, a shorter one with your hair color, and two smaller ones with fawn and dark brunette bobs. a family portrait, if you will. one that deserves its place on your fridge, right next to Megumi’s.

[triplesilverstar]

A kiss to shut them up

Rating: PG

Pairing: Vash X F!Reader

CW: Fighting, Wolfwood being a pain

Word count: .3K roughly

A/N: Sometimes silly fights, need a silly way to end.

“The big ones have a better taste.” You snarl across the flickering flames at the dark haired man who just sneers in return.

“No, the smaller ones do, they’re more tender, and you can eat them raw!” His own voice is loud, echoing around the space as he tries to argue back.

“Only a moron eats them raw! You’re lucky you don’t pick up parasites!” Firing back at the man as you find yourself starting to wonder how the hell he’s even alive. Another part of your mind wondering if it has to do with the lack of injuries and the way he healed after being hit by the truck.

“Maybe some of us are just that good at picking ones that aren’t filled with parasites!” 

Waving your hands in the air over how ridiculous he’s being. “That’s not how it works!” 

“Mayfly?” Feeling a gloved hand land on your shoulder you look up from your verbal spat with the undertaker to see Vash’s shining blue eyes looking at you from behind his orange shades. 

“Yes, Vash?” A swift descent and his mouth is slotted over yours, kissing you breathlessly with the gentle movement of his lips and the swipe of his tongue as you sink into the kiss and against his body. 

“Shut up and sleep.” You feel a little sheepish as you realize just how late your argument had gone on and the fact Vash resorted to such drastic measures to silence you shortly after the trio you’re traveling with found out you’re more than just traveling companions. Yet the way your heart beats in your chest tells you that aren’t that upset over it. 

[what-a-connmotion]

Mobile Suit Gundam 0083: Stardust Memory — The Mayfly of Space (1992)