#nick wolfwood x reader

[daryascurse]

𝘎𝘰𝘥 𝘉𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘔𝘦, 𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘳

Nicholas D. Wolfwood x Reader

“Open up.”

Your lips part. Nick slides the popsicle into your mouth. Your tongue curls, cradling the sudden cold sensation. Nick’s breath is close enough to feel in warm ghosting over your nose, and the moment is frozen for a moment. He drinks you in the same – eyes wavering with each twitch of your lips around the popsicle, the flare of your nostrils as your breath grows thin.

Nick’s grin splits again, too wide for his face. His fingers tense, and he pushes it to the back of your mouth.

Your breath is choked out of you in a moan, your throat cold and closed. The sweet, sticky juice is already beginning to gloss over your lips, threatening to run down your chin.

“You wanna suck? Choke on it?”

ice cream truck driver!Wolfwood for @bastardblvd slimeball town hall event! 🥰 ɴꜱꜰᴡ | ᴍɪɴᴏʀꜱ ᴅɴɪ ✧ pov : second person, AFAB reader, nongendered pronouns ("sweetheart" used as an endearment) ✧ tags: modern au, smut, smoking, choking, love bites, oraI (fem. receiving), fingering, finger sucking, creampie ✧ word count: ~4.7k ✧ ao3 link ✧ recommended mood playlist: raspberry cake

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It had been your first thought – with a wrinkle of your nose shifting the veil of your sunglasses over your eyes; that there’s no way this is sanitary. Maybe the families at the park know it too, with all the laughter and shrieks contained to the playground. You’re the only one on this part of the field. It’s probably because an ice cream truck shouldn’t smell like smoke.

And any smoke coming from a vehicle is bad, but it’s cigarette smoke.

The man inside the ice cream truck rests his elbows on the counter, chewing the end of a cigarette that burns down slowly, bringing the acrid smell of tobacco through the air with it. You slide your sunglasses down as you step into the shade of the truck’s overhang, and squint up at him. “Should you be doing that around food?”

“Quiet,” he says, barely flitting his glazed-over gaze down over you. “You’ll scare away all my customers.”

The smoke drifting away turns blue in the streams of sunlight. The roll of the ground is hard under your feet, the white walls of the ice cream truck blinding and peppered with faded photographs advertising the wares within.

“Anyway,” he says with a slight cough rolling into the first syllable, “most of it’s prepackaged.”

“Most?”

He pulls the cigarette from his mouth, smacks the back of his hand still holding the stub against a paper sign taped to the sliding window. Fresh fruit smoothies! “Strawberries and stuff in the fridge.”

“Then smoking’s definitely not okay. Haven’t you heard of cross-contamination? Don’t they train you on things like that?”

You don’t know why you’re suddenly pretending to be an expert on food safety, but he seems to enjoy it. At the very least, he’s intrigued.

“’S why I’m smoking over here away from the fridge,” he says, just as fast. He flicks the smoldering cigarette butt down by your feet and grins at you. “Who are you to tell me how to do my job, anyway?”

His smile is white, sharp. His dark bangs are forced flat against his forehead under a jaunty white cap that, just like the rest of the uniform, must be one-size-fits-all. The crisp white short-sleeved button-up shirt pinches at his shoulders, falls too boxy below his moving arms as far as you can see. It has a nametag pinned lopsidedly on it, with a square too narrow and handwriting too thick to fit what he had clearly set out to Sharpie in – NICH must suffice. And all in all, it brings a smile to your own face.

The visual scan, the appreciation of his appearance, has somewhat distracted you from the fact that he’s whipped out another cigarette. The hiss of a lighter is sharp. His lips close around it.

“A concerned consumer,” you say. He eyes you, sharp brows furrowed ever so slightly in careful, focused study.

“Well, concerned consumer, what are you consuming? You want a popsicle? Ice cream bar? Sandwich?”

“What do you recommend?”

He exhales white smoke. “For you?”

There’s a soft musicality in the way he asks the question, the two words singing, dancing into each other. For…you? He looks you up and down. You roll your shoulders, straightening your back without thinking. He slides his jaw as he breaks into another smile. The cigarette rolls between his teeth.

“Fuck the smoothies. I’m running a new special,” He says. He suddenly pulls the cigarette out of his mouth, new as it is, and stubs it into the side of the van before tossing it out to land at your feet. “Come round back, if you want something really good.”

He slides the window shut before you can say anything else. A moment later, grunting metal heaves around the corner of the ice cream truck, and the back door unlatches.

“Are you hiding all the good treats back here?” you say, twisting your lips and tracing your finger over the pasted images of ice cream cones on the door as you step up into the truck. There’s a dalmatian print of what you now realize must be other cigarette stubs and burns along the outer handle.

“I have a secret menu for special customers.”

You surreptitiously shut the door, making a decision without consciously thinking of it. When you turn back, he’s looking at your hand on the latch with an amused expression playing across his face.

It’s a small space, made smaller by his frame echoed in every silver, mirrored surface. Even with strewn paper cups and open canisters of whipped cream, it appears cleaner than you would have imagined. He rests broad hands on counters lining either side of the gutted truck, hunched in the narrow aisle between the chrome freezers. He drums his fingers, the sound dull thuds. He’s broad, taller even than the height difference from the window to the grass seemed.

He’s so hot.

He points to his nametag. “Call me Nicholas. Or Nick,” he says.

“What’s on this special, secret menu, Nick?” you ask.

Nick reaches up with a hand, scratches his forehead where the brim of his hat meets skin and bristling, trapped hair. “You like popsicles?”

You raise your eyebrows. “That’s what you called me in for?”

“Well, it’s your choice,” Nick says, and he turns. He heaves open a door, a blast of icy air puffing into the interior. He rummages for a moment, and you watch the flex of muscle moving in his arm, the crosses of veins prominent. “Orange?”

“Sure.”

You take a step closer. It doesn’t take much than a few more to meet him in the small aisle of the van, the tin, patterned floor shaking slightly. The smell of cigarettes is discernable only from the faint motions of his fingers, tense, white half-moons rising under his nails as he concentrates on rooting through the bin.

He closes the door and looks down at you, as you lean back, nestled nearly on the countertop. You watch, first his fingers as he wrests with the squeaky white wrapping, then up to his face – the automatic expression of slight concentration, the relaxing of his features as he succeeds and pops the icy treat free, sliding the wrapper off. He tosses it to the counter behind him; it catches on the air, floats to the ground instead, ignored.

You jerk your chin up. Nick turns the wooden stick in his fingers. You begin to extend your hand for it, but he speaks first, in a voice that comes softer than the banter. Softer, deeper. Dangerous.

“Open up.”

Enticing.

Your lips part. Nick slides the popsicle into your mouth. Your tongue curls, cradling the sudden cold sensation. Nick’s breath is close enough to feel in warm ghosting over your nose, and the moment is frozen for a moment. His fingers curl on the wooden stick. Your eyelids feel heavy as you stare at him. The cracks of smile lines webbing silver under his eyes; the stubborn push of stubble under his chin. He drinks you in the same – eyes wavering with each twitch of your lips around the popsicle, the flare of your nostrils as your breath grows thin.

Nick’s grin splits again, too wide for his face. His fingers tense, and he pushes it to the back of your mouth.

Your breath is choked out of you in a moan, your throat cold and closed. The sweet, sticky juice is already beginning to gloss over your lips, threatening to run down your chin.

“You wanna suck? Choke on it?”

You let out a muffled whimper again.

“Which would you prefer?” Nick asks, and his voice groans. “What’s your choice? You wanna take this little popsicle outside and enjoy the day? Or for me to open you up nice and slow right here on the counter?” He pushes the popsicle on your tongue, rolls it. It gags you and you make that strangled sound again.

Nick pulls it out, leaving your teeth to chatter.

You pause a moment, sucking in air, feeling the sugary tack on your lips. Nick swirls the popsicle, licks away a melting droplet.

So, you think, our first kiss is an indirect one.  

“Say it,” he says with a dare. He takes another step. It brings his knee between yours now, and your throat tightens as you tilt your head up to him. The pulse quickens in your neck.

“Nice and slow?” you say, and your voice cracks into ice. “What if I want it a little rougher?”

“Oh?” Nick asks, and you don’t know where the popsicle goes, you don’t care if he’s thrown it to the ground again, because your eyes are closed and his lips are on yours, dissolving the melting syrup. His hands are on your hips, and your hips are twisting in turn; in the sudden fog of lust, you’re not sure if you’ve boosted yourself on the counter or if he’s lifted you. But he’s on a closer level to you now, your fingernails skating over the stubble of his jaw on your way to throw your hands over his shoulders.

The tart bursts of orange lingering at the inside of your cheeks clashes with the musk of his taste, the earthy tobacco smacking with each kiss. Your knees part wider for his body stepping closer as his tongue slips into your mouth. With your eyes closed, it feels like falling, the oxygen taken straight from your lips to his, your head spinning with the remnant of the smoke, the soft work of his tongue against yours.

“Oh.”

Your thigh muscles tighten and shake. Even in the chill of the truck, something warm begins to settle down through you, and your grasp across Nick is shifting, faster. A hand at his arm before you realized it, the other still pressing through his thick hair to cradle the back of his neck. You’ve knocked that silly cap off, and he grabs at your waist in fervent agreement. As much as Nick holds your tense body into his, you pull him into you, even as the kisses begin to leave your mouth stale and dry with the remnants of smoke.

“I can still taste it,” Nick whispers, his tongue almost licking your still-parted lips with the words laced with nicotine, with orange sugar. He kisses the corner of your mouth and straightens up, pulls away, leaves you breathless as you open your eyes to drink him in again. His hands anchor on the counter, and you swear you can begin to feel it shift backwards with his strength. “But I want to taste something else.”

Nick’s hands move again. The pressure of your clothes, suddenly so palpable, unbearable over eager skin, releases as he unfastens your pants. Your hips roll almost desperately as he slips you nearly bare from the waist down, and the thought comes again as you tremble on the counter with only the thin fabric of your panties keeping you from the cold steel. “This is so unsanitary.”

It’s hard to sound assertive with strong, nimble fingers undressing you, and your sentence breaks into a gasp. Nick raises those thick brows at you as he sinks, barely able to kneel in the narrow aisle as he eases off your shoes, rolls off your pants. “What, are you gonna report me?”

You grin. It’s ruined by the drop of your mouth, the slack of your jaw as your voice keens into another “oh!” as Nick kisses your soft inner thighs, bracing his hands so lightly against your legs as he coaxes slight adjustments of your leg. Saliva cools across your skin, the warmth of his lower lip dragging as his mouth opens wider.

“Ah!”

The bite doesn’t hurt, really, but his teeth run along you lower, closer to the trembling heat below your panties. Nick gives another biting, sucking kiss. His other hand moves up your thigh with a softer touch than his lips.

He reaches the band of your panties and brushes against the fabric. You can feel the turn of his wrist as it allows him a better grab at the cloth, a better touch of your skin below, and you let out a sound closer to a hiss as he spreads his fingers to cup and shape your cunt perfectly through the panties.

“Nick – ”

His name is heavy on your tongue, your skin somehow feeling cool right between his touch, right where the side of his fingers pinch together.

“I like hearing you say my name,” Nick says softly. His breath is hot, closer and closer on your thigh. He rocks his fingers and pushes into you. The nerves sing under your tense muscles. And finally, with another exhale, his mouth sets.

It’s another kiss at first, open-mouthed and heavy over your underpants, but when he moves his tongue over the fabric it’s with a harder urgency. He flattens his tongue, saliva seeping through the cloth to meeting slick and push it back to you. The barrier is so rough, leaving you even more sensitive below it. You moan again when Nick’s tongue retreats, moving higher, harder, up. He flicks right between the groove that’s now so perfectly shaped beneath the damp panties, teasing your clit.

You reach forward, skating your hands through his hair, thick and shining like nylon. His busy hand pinches against you in response. It’s all heavy at your hips, the sensation teasing you just as much as the ministrations of his mouth.

Nick turns closer to the counter, shifting between your spread legs as he pushes his face into you.

“Take them off,” you hear yourself whine. It’s tauntingly warm, each twist of your body and sway of his lips rubbing the fabric on and off your body, settling with teasing whispers in just barely new locations. He shakes his head in a way that may or may not be a response, but brushes his lips over your cunt.

“Said I didn’t want slow,” you say.

“Be a little patient. I can see you so perfectly,” Nick rasps, and his fingers frame you again, pushing the wet fabric back against your body. “What a pretty, plump pussy.”

You push your hips into the counter and curl your fingers against his scalp, at the back of his head. “Nick,” you say again.

A heavy breath, and his fingers slide harder. He peels the elastic away from your skin, away from your already strained and aching thighs. It lifts from you as he forces your panties to the side. It’s so cold in the air for a moment, and then hot when Nick’s tongue forces past to your bare skin.

“Fuck!”

He laps messily over you, letting the jerk of your hands in response guide his head, the direction of his tongue as it twists and flattens. He eats you out sloppily. You jerk, the back of your knees bending hard into the underside of the counter. You’re grinding into Nick’s face without thinking of it, and the moan that escapes him in return is something uninhibited. It’s raw, gasping for breath, full of a desire that should have fallen from your own lips.

Your hips rock up, and his lips break away. Nick’s fingers flatten under the curve of your thigh and reach, a slight cushion drumming the back of your panties as his thumb strokes back up against the gusset. He presses into the wet fabric and teases it over your skin again. He bends and pushes his fingertip carelessly, almost randomly, along the covering of your slit, index finger drumming down around the back of your thigh.

“Oh, please,” you whimper. Your back arches as you try to write into his touch.

Nick’s finger rolls again, flattens, presses harder. You’re throbbing where his fingers touch you, even if it’s just over the coarse fabric that feels rougher and rougher the wetter it gets. The wetter you make it.

“You’re so messy,” Nick says, almost like a quiet observation. The pressure between your legs slips away as he moves. Your legs ache, knees curving instinctively together again as he rises with an involuntary grunt. He looks down on you with gleaming eyes beneath wild brows, and his half-parted lips are wet.

“Even through your panties,” he continues, and he extends his glistening fingers forward. “See?”

Not necessary for him to ask this time. Your mouth is open, you loll your tongue forward. The pressure of his fingers pushes it against her teeth, and you force your tongue up between the V-shape they make to swirl and turn, licking himself clean of you as your eyes roll up to him. Your cheeks hollow with it, the taste not as sweet as the popsicle, but you let your tongue work harder. The way his eyes gleam down at you only spurs you on. You turn your resting foot against his leg to urge him back, closer.

Nick’s thumb turns under your chin in response, and he leans down. Drool slips from the corner of your mouth when he replaces his hand with his lips on yours. You taste yourself even more than the traces on his fingers, entwined with the eternal earthy remnants of smoke. You reach to clumsily press your palms against his stomach. You can feel, almost to your surprise, strong bands of muscle beneath the cheap thin button-up, and you fumble at the buttons to bid the shirt open.

“Not fair if you still have all this on,” you say, breaking the kiss with words and peppers of little, closed-mouth kisses on his cheek, his jaw, blind as your fingers hunt up to his throat. When the shirt hangs open, you trace them down again, tilting your head back with a grin of your own as you feel the warm curve of his pectoral muscles, the softness below his breastbone where air pockets. And when you free the hem from his waistband and feel for the fastening of the dark slacks, Nick moves down to at long last wrap those strong fingers around the band of your panties and pull them from you. You sigh audibly as the damp fabric peels away, letting go of his own clothes for a moment. His bend of limbs knots into your reaching arms as your hips rock away and back to the counter as he undresses you, panties falling to the floor. He keeps a hand on your thigh, pushing your legs open again.

You groan at the muscle stretch, and it catches in your throat. “Nick,” you say again, softly, letting it linger.

His muscles tense beneath the billow of the open shirt as he forces his pants lower with his free hand, finishing your half-started efforts. The zipper clatters at the underside of the counter as he cants in.

The anticipation is trembling practically out of your body. Your shudders and whimpers are almost lost in the hum of the appliances.

“You want rough?” he says, rasping his words.

“Mmhm…god.”

“No,” Nick says, a slight, sudden dryness as his hand flexes, pushes on your leg. Something smoother, thicker, than his fingers, pushes against your inner thigh. His cock curves as he leans closer. “No God here.”

At that, his hips turn. And you writhe as his cock slides into you, so easily spreading and entering your cunt perfectly oiled with saliva and your arousal. You arch, moan a “fuck!” as he leans forward with a strained, satisfied, Cheshire-cat smile, and goes deeper.

He’s big, so big you can feel your body almost go numb, inner muscles beating at the intrusion – and then softening to make space for him. He sucks in a breath, as if he’s feeling the same shaking tightness.

You groan and curve your hips, the best attempt to roll up and meet him just as he pulls out, and then so deep back in that your mouth falls open with the next moaning breath. You reach forward, tugging plaintively at his shirt, grasping at the fabric to pull him close.

“Oh, oh, please – ”

No banter, no witty talk, nothing but pleading for him with your open body. He pushes, and your hand finds his side, wrapping halfway to his back. Your fingers bend, and he groans as your nails drag down the side of his ribs.

The pressure, the heat that his tongue was building in you rises again, and you jerk your hips pathetically forward. It doesn’t do much to interrupt the build of his pace, but it presses your skin close to his, the warm layer of sweat beginning to rise between your limbs. And the energy that rolls in your veins, shit, it has to go somewhere. You strain to pull him close to you, to bring his mouth down to yours again, but his body is stone, and his determined grip is hard.

You whine, letting your hands dance up again just to drag backdown with raking nails.

“Fuck,” Nick groans, and the guttural, raw tone, sends more through you.

His hand is off your thigh, the press so hard you almost expect a large, palm-shaped bruise to rise in its place. And the push is at your clit, his thumb rubbing busy circles that almost make you sob when you look down, hazy vision fixing on the thick expanse of his fingers working you over as his cock forces you open and swollen.

“Ah!”

Your hand still knotted in his shirt rises to your lips, your tongue lapping over your fingers, the curve of your thumb, and you reach an awkward hand down over spread thighs to surround him. You rub, at the inch of cock that can’t quite fit inside you at this angle, circle down to stroke with soft fingertips at his balls.

“Oh, oh,” Nick says in desperation. “Fuck.”

The words are broken, and you barely can lift your eyes up and away in time for his mouth to meet yours again. His lips are soft, fat, hungry, and you whine into his throat as he fucks you harder, harder.

It’s a brief kiss, because he breaks his head away to rest on your shoulder. His body cages over you, and you move your hands again, both scooped under the open shirt to grab at his back with frantic fingers. His hair has fallen forward, rubbing sweaty, rough, in strands at your neck.

“Oh, Nick – right there,” you say, feeling your voice shake higher and higher. Your instinct is to lean back, fuck your hips higher, but instead you pull him closer and try to curve into him. “Please – don’t stop – ”

“No?”

“No, no, touch me, fuck me, please  - ”

He tosses his head back and his throat muscles are tight, jaw pulsing, as he straightens up over you again. “What makes you think I’ll stop, sweetheart?”

He pulls his tormenting hand away and spits on it. You almost scream when it comes back, sliding faster over your suddenly even more sensitive clit, sore and puffy as he makes you bloom like a rose with split folds.

“You have to cum first.”

And you rock on the counter, the freezers groaning with the bumping shift of the van’s movements. Something clatters down as appliances, spoons, napkins, fall. It doesn’t matter if the ice cream melts around you. What matters is the way your muscles jump, the way friction is burning below your skin, moving faster and faster.

“Oh, oh!”

You close your eyes and cling to him. The force of his grunts with each pump vibrates through his chest. Your thighs are arched high, feet desperately pushing at the back of his legs, not quite high enough to cross and not quite enough strength in you to hook around him tighter. But your hands are hard on his back, his shoulder blades flat between the spread of your fingers.

Nick’s hunched over you. He lifts his hand, pulling it away and leaving you beating, shivering, practically gushing with the pumps of his cock. He cups the side of your face as your eyes roll open, gaze to the ceiling as you writhe.

“Does the roof make you cum?” he asks in jagged breath.

“N-no,” you say automatically.

“Is it god? Who’s fucking you?”

“God, no. You – you.”

He jerks your chin to him. His eyes are fixed, brows sharp, lips pulled back and teeth wet in a half-grin. “Then don’t look up; look at me, look at me, when I make you cum.”

It’s the words that are your undoing, the way they spit harsh from his mouth. The harshness is without cruelty, but with a vigor that’s echoed in the kiss when you lean forward to meet him in wanton agreement.

“Nick,” you breathe into his mouth, and bite his lower lip as you withdraw. “Make me cum – please, make me cum.”

“Wanna cum with you, sweetheart,” Nick says in that grating groan as he moves his hand back to rub in furious circles.

You tense your thighs and feel for it, squirming against the countertop as that friction beats harder. It’s something burning beneath your core, even as he splits you, again, and again, in frantic heat. When his hand stills, you can tell – you can tell in his body, in the focus right at his hips as they begin to buck into you harder, in the sucking of his breath, that he’s as close as you are.

“Nick – I’m gonna – ”

“Oh,” he groans, his words crashing into yours, and you pulse as he lets go. You bury your face in his shoulder and stuff your mouth full of shirt to muffle the scream. With each throb of his cock as he cums in you, it urges the shivers of your miniscule muscles wild. You cum without announcement, almost to your own surprise, and Nick’s hands anchor at the small of your back. He practically sings his moans in your ear as you cum on his cock, his rhythm slowing as yours tenses and stutters.

Somehow, the counter stops rocking.

The silence is cut by two lungs raggedly gasping, the hum of the freezers, the groans of the truck. Far off in the distance, the people in the park keep playing and laughing.

“Fuck,” you say, low, and you find your voice shaking.

“’S right,” Nick says.

He pulls out of you, and you whimper in your throat at the slide, at the warmth, at the ache across your legs.

Bam, bam, bam.

You physically startle, heart leaping into your throat, hands automatically flying to your lap as Nick’s seed beats out of you. Someone’s at the front part of the ice cream truck, knocking on the window. A shadowed hand appears at the glass as they try to look inside past the paper taped on the window.

“Hey,” calls a young man’s voice. “Anyone in here? You guys open?”

“Just a second,” Nick shouts back. He grins down at you as he hoists his pants back up. “Just a customer. Don’t worry.”

“Don’t worry?” you hiss quietly.

“Can’t see you from here.”

“Nick, you’re not actually going to serve –”

“Kitchen’s down,” he suddenly yells, interrupting you. “Only got the pre-packaged stuff.”

“That’s alright,” they shout in return.

Nick wipes his forehead, pushing back sweat-slicked hair. “See? Nothing to worry about.”

You suck your teeth and raise your eyebrows, trying to suppress a smile.

“Hold tight,” he says, buttoning his shirt. “Let me find my hat, sell an ice cream sandwich, and I’ll be right back.”

You can’t hide it when he kisses your cheek, hands busy as he rises to his collar. “Not gonna jump out the window and escape?”

“You think I’d fit through that?” Nick raises those thick brows. “I’m not trying to get anywhere. Not without your name and number first.” He reaches down, fumbles on the floor of the van and comes up with his cap.

You edge slowly off the counter, pins and needles aching in your thighs. He’s already crammed his hat on his head and’s turned, moving towards the window.

“Hey, hey,” you say, whispering as quietly as you can. “Do you – Nick, do you see my panties?”

At first, you think you haven’t gotten his attention. But when he hauls the window open, giving that cheeky grin to the spiky blonde-haired man you can barely see standing below with a “what can I get for you?” – you can see the wet, crumpled fabric winking at you from his back pocket.

fin

[midnight-lilac-blue-hues]

Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy.

There are no horses that need saving in this fic ;P

(\ _ /)

( o0o)

Wolfwood × reader

Warning!!! NSFW below the cut

AFAB reader, smut, cowgirl position (yeehaw), ass smacking (just once), I live for country wolfwood, men moaning, creampie, slight overstimulation, lots of swearing.

Note: excited because this is my first trigun fic :] and I'm also back!! (I say about to take summer classes) but nevertheless, enjoy this holy meal ^^!!

"Hurry up there, cowboy," Wolfwood leaning back on the bed, elbows propping himself up to look at you.

"Hush," you hissed, "you know I get antsy right before we fuck." Pulling your shirt off, and stepping out of your shorts.

"I'd doubt that, cos' with the way you're speakin' yo-"

"I'd said hush," you covered his mouth with the palm of your hand. You quickly unbuckled his belt with your free hand, sitting on his lap and running your lips up and down his tawny neck.

You pressed yourself further into the priest, embracing the skin-to-skin contact while he runs his fingers into your hair. His hips ever so gently roll up into yours, his clothed cock pressed right over your clit causing you to mewl into his mouth. 

You unlatch your lips from Wolfwood's neck with a 'so good' drooling from your lips. You felt a rough hand run down your back, rubbing your ass in circles. "You'd think you can ride a bull? Or are you gonna be screaming my name so loud the whole inn can hear?"

"I can handle it," you gulped.

"Good," a harsh smack stung your ass, "giddy up, cowgirl." He said with a smirk.

You gave him a glare before guiding the tip of his cock to your entrance. "You know after that smack, I shouldn't give you a piece of me," grinding down on Wolfwood's tip just enough it wouldn't go in but would leave him begging.

"Come on, princess. How else are you gonna show me you can handle it?" His rough hands rest on your soft hips, "Sorry about that though, doll," his hand smoothed your hips.

You trailed the curves of your torso, finding Wolfwood's hands, and lacing your fingers together. Using his hands, you lowered yourself down onto his hard-on with a sigh. His quick gasp caused a shiver to run up your spine.

"Tight as ever, huh?"

"S-shut up," you squeezed his hands and shut your eyes.

"At least take me all the way down, then I'll think about it," Wolfwood gave you another cheeky smirk.

You humph, pulling up leaving the tip in, and sinking further down until your rear was sitting on Wolfwood's thick thighs.

You began riding Wolfwood, using his hands as leverage. You sighed, feeling his cock pressing the soft spot inside, over and over again. "Haa~ it feels good," you whispered, rubbing your clit on his pubic bone.

"Careful there, princess. You're twitchin' already," Wolfwood grunted underneath you.

"Focus on yourself, Wolfwood. I can feel your dick throbbing." You felt your face grow hotter and hotter.

Wolfwood hummed, "That so?" Digging his heels into the mattress, thrusting his hips up to meet yours as you came down. "Cos' I'm always throbbing whenever I see you. Especially when you try to act tough."

You choked on your own moan, squeezing Wolfwood's hand so hard, nail markings will definitely show up the next day. His pace was relentless, causing you to curl over him.

You cursed under your breath, feeling yourself get closer to your climax. And you could Wolfwood was also close, as his grunts and a few of his whines grew more audible.

He slipped his fingers out of yours, bringing them to your hips, pulling them down to grind on his own. Letting out a dissatisfied whine, you frowned at the man. "Fuck!" You squeaked out, feeling your cunt throbbing around his shaft, "what was that about?!"

"It wouldn't be fair to me if you got to set the pace, now would it?" Wolfwood leaned forward, guiding your movements like you were nothing but a fuck toy for him. 

This was really bad, you were so close to your climax. Your hips rutted into Wolfwood's waist as your moans spiked up and up.

"Fuck yeah baby, moan for me, just like that~" he purred. He began kissing your neck, his stubble brushed against your collarbone forcing a loud moan to spill from your lips. "Oh fuck yeah!" He growled into your neck. Suddenly, you felt warmth fill your pussy, quickly sending you over your peak.

Wolfwood's grip on you became loose, allowing you to pin him back down onto the mattress. You continue to ride out your orgasm on his cock, enjoying how your pussy seems to weep around him. Wolfwood's breath quickly became whines and whimpers.

"Oh my God, doll! W-wait, augh- slow down," he begged, throwing his head back.��

"Damn Nico, I thought you were going to have me scream so loud- the entire inn would hear us," you smirked as your hips found a new desire to continue moving. You chuckled, "Keep being a good boy, and I'll think about slowing down."

[axxlke]

Let’s just say: you better bark like you want it

[six-phantom]

Why would you ever kiss me?

~Vash the Stampede x reader~

"I wish I was Heather"

Oh, how much you love him. He didn’t know how you heart beat just at the mere sight of him. How much you love when that blue eyes look at you in the most soft and caring way. How his smile bright your entire day. How his body feels so warm when yours was so cold. You love the sound of his laugh. How much you love his kind heart. Oh, how much you desire to be the one he call “love”.

You was head over heels for Vash, you didn’t notice when this happen, but you were not complaining. Loving him was so easy. So warm. Like being exposed to the light of the sun when you were completely frozen in one place. You wanted to tell him. You wanted to call him “yours” and that he call you “his”. But you simply can’t. Vash already have so many issues in his life. You didn’t want to disturb him with your feelings. To make thigs awkward between both of you if he didn’t feel the same. To lose him because you can’t control that stupid heart of yours. So, you decide for him and for you…Being by his side was enough for you to be happy.

So then, why?

Why?

Why were you so sad? Why were you so jealous? Why you just can’t look to another place when you see the way Vash looks at Meryl, like she was the person who paint the stars in the sky? Why can’t be you?

Before, was only Vash and you, running away together. He found you, and for whatever reason you decide to stick with him. The best decision you made in your entire life… Until they found you. That drunk old man, that priest, and that…Incredible girl who stole Vash from you. You really can’t hate her. She was so caring and kind, she was kind enough even with the priest!... She was also so beautiful, that dark short hair of hers, that little figure of hers making her looks so adorable, that dark blue eyes. She even looks better in that red jacket. You remember the time he would give it to you. In one of that many nights you both spend together, when you were denying being cold, but he patiently insists that you used it.

When you catch how Vash was feeling about her, how his eyes were always looking for her, how when the five of you make it alive from a battle, she was the first person he was looking for, its hurts you…It burns your soul, it breaks your heart into pieces, it makes you sick just the mere sight of them together. How cruel he was, asking you for a way to express his feeling to her, to another woman. A woman that it wasn’t you. And what did you do? You help him. Why? Well, you said it was enough to be by his side, right? You wanted to see him happy. You wanted that his smile would always be honest. You desire the best in the world for Vash.

And when they got together? You cry. You cry tears you didn’t think you have. You were so selfish. This is what you wanted, don’t you? Just look at him. Look how his eyes are shinning, how his smile is bigger than before. You knew Meryl would take good care of him. She was what he needs.

So, you decide to let him go.

When the priest said that he was going to another direction, you insist in follow him. He didn’t want you to come along at first, but the way you desperately whisper to him “Please…”, make him understand your desire to be away from this place. So, he takes you with him. And Vash didn’t want that. Why would you want to go with him? You were not happy with them? He didn’t want to let you go. You were his first truly friend, you spend at least two years together fighting side by side. He thought you would be always with him. He wanted to ask you to stay with them…With him. But the words where cut in his throat, as he watch you leave with Wolfwood.

[niiyuoe]

I love to think nicholas d wolfwood from the 98's that is riding his motorcycle:

Nicholas: Hey there ready to go?

Y/n: you realize now is raining.

Nicholas: yeah

Y/n: and you don't bring any raincoat or anything

Nicholas: yup

Y/n : it's raining nicholas no way i'm riding the motorcycle with you in the rain

Nicholas: where's the fun in that , gotta appreciate God's miracel for the rain. Don't worry about your pretty little head and get your ass here

[pasteleclectic]

𓆩♱𓆪 In Eden 𓆩♱𓆪

‘98 Wolfwood x f!Reader

Rated M

Tags: slow burn, alternate timeline, Catholic guilt, falling in love, eventual smut

Chapter 1 ✞

Chapter 2 ✞

Chapter 3 ✞

Chapter 4 ✞

Chapter 5 ✞

In progress 📝

[astral-aquarium]

Come join our very new and very small trigun stampede discord server! <3

I’m being held captive and Idek anything abt this anime. Pls help-

[sugarspicenights]

Angel Voices - Vash x Reader

4.1k words / minors DNI / takes place in trigun '98 canon

CW: reader has breasts, wears a bra, and has a vagina/vulva/clit, but no specific use of pronouns in fic (though one mention of "goddess"), no mention of skin color, hair color or texture. Both reader and Vash are written with the mindset of bisexual switches.

Use of nicknames like baby and good boy, mentions and descriptions of Vash's scars, oral (m on f + f on m), 69, f squirting on m's face, discussion of contraceptive method, piv sex (sitting with f on top, cowgirl, and missionary), monsterfucking (since Vash is a sentient plant; discussion of plant sex differences and weird plant cum), overstimulation, cum eating (only a little), brief aftercare (as there might be a fic part 2)

AN: Thank you to everyone for waiting on this! I wrote this with so much love for the original source material and I hope it captures the slightly goofy spirit of the Trigun 98 dub, both for Vash and reader 💖

Morning again…

Slowly waking, you scrunch up your face, taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly. From behind, you can hear soft, even breaths and feel a warm hand around your waist.

We must have fallen asleep after the mission…

Closing your eyes, you take in the sensation of Vash’s body around you: his left arm slung around your waist, fingers tucked slightly under your shirt and legs tangled between yours.

You had only meant to talk for bit and process the day’s adventure, but even one beer and leftover donuts from the morning was enough to relax Vash and make him realize just how much energy he had used up.

He was staying at a hotel down the road, so you offered to let him rest a minute before heading back. He had obliged, slipping his jacket off and removing his metal prosthesis, showing you just how much he trusted you.

When you had sat down next to him, petting his hair as he relaxed, you must have fallen asleep too, lulled by the repetitive motion and gentle hums from Vash. You were supposed to wake him up, but instead you were laying next to him, the closest you’d ever been to the man you had a huge crush on.

He really should have been able to figure it by now…

For all his “reputation” as a womanizer, besides some harmless flirting, you had never witnessed Vash make a move on anyone. He seemed to prefer the company of drinking buddies or a bag of fresh donuts more than a night with a woman.

You knew why, though.

Beneath the handsome and charming outer surface, Vash the Stampede kept a secret perfectly contained. You’d never guess it by a glance, but he was pushing 150 years old, and hidden under layers of crimson leather and cloth were relics of his past—scars, surgeries, repairs, and metal prosthetics.

With a flashy enough jacket, no one usually asked questions about what was underneath.

You hadn’t seen them for yourself more than a quick glance when Vash stretched and his shirt rode up, but you had heard about the extent of his injuries from Meryl and Milly.

The insurance girls had become your friends quickly, often hanging out together and commiserating over how much trouble you all got into around Vash and Wolfwood.

You didn’t mind the adventures. Sure, danger followed you at every step, but you always seemed to come out alright—Vash and Nick always found a way to turn things around.

Which is how you ended up here, snuggled in the arms of the infamous gunslinger, the humanoid typhoon, and the man currently pressed up against your back, half-hard and sleepy, holding onto you like a touch-starved lover.

You knew if Vash woke up right now he would apologize furiously and move away from you instantly, but you didn’t want him to leave.

You wanted to go further—spend the morning in bed and explore…

You don't know how to cross that emotional barrier yet, but have time to think, cheeks burning as Vash’s fingers ghost over your stomach, almost dipping below your underwear waistband. Sucking in a breath, sensitive, you move your hips slowly, closing your eyes and waiting for Vash to wake up.

Only he doesn't.

He lets out a few breathy moans in his sleep, holding onto you tighter and nuzzling into your shoulder. You lay there, blushing, feeling Vash’s cock swelling into your back and starting to pant softly. You're already so wet without being touched, but don't feel comfortable going any further without consent.

Fuck, this was going to be awkward.

“Vash?”

He only stirs slightly, still lost in his sleepy haze.

“Vash, wake up.”

“Hmmmm??”

You needed only wait a moment before Vash’s hand promptly flies away with an embarrassed “WHAAAAYAGHHHH!!!” and the string of apologies comes as expected.

Instead of accepting them, however, you shove Vash back down onto the pillows and climb onto his hips, raising a finger to talk to him.

“Stop that!!!”

He immediately shuts up, cheeks still flushed, and stares up at you, dumbfounded.

“I like you, Vash.” You go right to the point, bluntly, so he has no excuses. “I like you romantically… sexually… and I don’t want your apologies!!!! I want you to stay.”

Vash’s mouth pops open, looking you over to see if you're really telling the truth, then asks sheepishly, “Why didn’t you say anything before???”

Frowning, you remain in your position, looking down at the gunman. “Do you know how hard it is to get a moment with you alone??? I appreciate the gentleman act and all, but it makes it hard to get to know each other.”

Turning his gaze away, Vash mumbles out, “Maybe you don’t want to know the real me.”

Reaching down to take his face in your hands, you gently turn his head back toward you. “Look, this doesn’t have to be anything permanent. But I don’t want to waste the time I have with you. You’re constantly getting into trouble and I never know if I’m even going to see you tomorrow.”

His brows furrow, but gaze softens towards you. “The life of an outlaw isn’t a safe one. Danger and destruction follows me everywhere I go. And I don’t want you to be collateral.”

Reaching for his hand, you lace your fingers between his, squeezing tight. “I don’t know what today holds, but you’re here with me now.”

Vash looks like he’s tearing up, having resigned himself to a life of loneliness long ago. “Do you really want me?”

You break into a grin, all the anxiety you had felt lifting away. “I do. All of you.”

“I…” He starts, then hesitates, swallowing nervously. “I’m not all that pretty. My face maybe, but. I’ve been around a long time, you understand? And fought so many battles…”

You nod, dragging your hand out of his grip and settling both of palms on his stomach. “I understand. Meryl and Milly told me a little about your past… But I don’t care about that. I care about you. However you are.”

“Ah, shucks.” He laughs, carefully putting his hand on your waist. “You’re gonna make me blush~”

“I believe I’ve already done that this morning, Mr. Stampede~”

He grins, his playfulness finally returning. “Please, not my full name!! It’s just Vash to you.”

“Vash.” You say his name out loud once more, uttering it with reverence and adoration.

“My Vash.”

His gaze meets yours, tracking down to your lips, then back up. “Can I kiss you?”

You nod, licking your lips unconsciously, then lean forward, setting your fingertips under Vash’s jaw and tilting your head. He meets your lips with his own, gripping your hip tightly as he whimpers into your mouth.

It had been far too long since he had been this close with anyone and your touch was electrifying.

Pulling back for a moment, though still desperate, Vash gets out between soft pecks, “Wait, wait. Lemme get my arm. Go to the bathroom. Wanna do this right.”

You sigh, sitting up. “Alright, hang on.”

Climbing off of him, you stand up and ask him to wait, then go to pick up his arm, making a little “oof!” sound as you return, struggling slightly with the metal’s weight.

Presenting the device to him, you watch as he aligns the locking mechanism, wrinkling up his nose as his arm reattaches, and letting out a sigh of relief out when he can finally move his arm again.

“I don’t usually take it off since it hurts to reattach, but my shoulder was aching so bad last night, I needed a break.”

You tilt your head, eyes traveling to his shoulders. “Do you need me to look at your shoulder? Did you get hurt?”

He shakes his head. “I’ll check it in the bathroom. Be right back.”

As soon as the door closes, you run to your drawers to look for lingerie, digging until you find a red bra, the same shade as his jacket, and a clean pair of bottoms. Shoving them into a cloth bag, you wait impatiently to swap places so you can surprise him.

Soon, Vash peeks out, hiding slightly with his clothes slung over his arm. He’s shirtless now with just boxers on, his scars fully on display. You walk over to him, kissing his upper arm and glancing up. “I’ll be right back. There’s water and snacks if you’re hungry.”

“Mhm.” Vash smiles, ruffling your hair affectionately. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Vash has half a pudding eaten when you finally return, dropping his spoon and his jaw when he sees you step out of the bathroom.

“You all good?” Clasping your hands in front of your stomach, you sway slightly, watching as Vash sets the pudding aside and rushes toward you, getting on his knees.

“You're the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in the whole galaxy…”

“That’s not possible, there are objectively prettier things than me. Like… the Horsehead Nebula.”

Vash laughs, still on the ground. “Nerd.”

Reaching out a hand to pat his hair, you drag your fingertips over his scalp, grinning down at him. “Dweeb.”

Grabbing the backs of both your thighs, Vash pulls closer as you shiver at the cold metal on your skin, a slight damp patch already forming on your panties. Mouthing over the cotton fabric, Vash inhales deeply, drunk on the smell of you. You look down, embarrassed, pushing his head away. “Vash…”

“Sorry, was that too much?”

“You don’t waste any time, huh? Is it possible you’re really a ‘ladykiller’ like the legends say?~”

“Mmmh.” Vash raises his eyebrows, squeezing your thighs and making you squirm. “No more talking.”

Tucking his fingers into your waistband, he yanks the material down and lets you step out, tossing the garment to an unknown corner of the room. The air in the room is sticky with the desert heat, but Vash’s hands on you are making you sweat even more, starting to pant hard as he ghosts his breath over your now-bare pussy.

He’s maddening, teasing you without giving you what you want, making you only imagine what his tongue feels like.

Instead of kissing your clit, he moves to your thighs, kissing and sucking faint hickeys into your skin. He can’t contain his own pleasure, moaning softly as he leaves gentle bites, making you jump and suck in a sharp breath as he moves closer and closer to your dripping cunt.

Grabbing his hair, you desperately pull him up onto you and he makes a surprised “mmpf!” as his nose bumps your clit. Your cheeks flush even deeper, finally feeling Vash’s tongue dart out and collect your slick, sucking messily as he traces his tongue over your folds.

When he’s teased you enough, he pauses a moment, looking up at you with sparkling eyes, pussy-drunk, then dives back down, finally wrapping his soft lips around your clit.

“Nnnnh!!!”

Bracing yourself against the hotel wall, you bring a hand to your mouth to stifle your moans, remembering there are other guests just across the wall. Hissing out a, “Vash!” you point to the bed, knees buckling slightly as he rubs his thumb over your clit and gives you a false-innocent questioning look.

“Need something?~”

“Can we—“ Interrupting yourself with another high-pitched moan, you try again, voice wavering. “Bed. Please?”

“Well since you said please and all~”

Wiping off his mouth and grinning, Vash stands, sauntering over to the bed and pulling back the covers, waiting for you to lay down first.

When you finally do, he stares down at you quietly, watching as you cross your legs, pull your arms over your chest, and look away, suddenly shy at the intensity of his gaze roaming over you.

“No, please, don’t hide.” Vash sits down on the edge of the bed next to you, tracing his fingers over the bottom edge of your bra. “You look so beautiful right now…”

Finally meeting his eyes again, your heart leaps, seeing his softer side come out—his smile is warm and sincere, making you smile in return, sharing his happiness.

As you study Vash a moment longer, you notice little details: his eyes are wide and full of desire, hair disheveled from your touch, and lips still puffy from eating you out. You can feel warmth blossoming in your chest and cheeks, silently drawing your heart closer to him.

Leaning up quickly, you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down into a kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue. He moans when your tongue finds his, exploring your mouth softly as he climbs onto the bed. One leg settles between both of yours and his hands reach for your face, neck, breasts—anything he can hold onto and get closer to you.

When you finally break for air, Vash is giggling with the biggest, goofiest grin on his face. “Why didn’t we do this sooner?? This is great!!”

Laughing too, you pull the back of your hand over your eyes and grin, cheeks flushed and breath coming out in soft pants.

You had noticed lately that Vash had two aspects to his personality: the hardened, tough, expert outlaw gunslinger side, and the very playful, hopeful, trusting and almost child-like side. In this moment, you loved being on the receiving end of the latter.

Moving your hand enough to peek an eye open, you see Vash grinning down at you again, tilting his head curiously and waiting for you to catch your breath. “You all good??”

You nod and sit up, pulling him into a hug. “Just happy you’re here with me is all.”

Feeling the warmth of his skin against yours and his hands resting gently on your back, you calm down instantly, taking a moment to rest. This was the first time you had been close to his scars and you reach out, gently tracing over some of them, watching for a response in case you were overstepping boundaries.

He lets you keep going, however, watching carefully as your fingers trace his skin’s memories of the past—the metal grating, the permanent clamps, the burned patches, old bullet wounds, and healed-over gashes.

Pressing your lips to the biggest scar on his chest, you slowly kiss your way up to his neck while your left hand slips down his stomach to his cock, rubbing through his underwear as you continue your gentle barrage of kisses and nips.

Whimpering, Vash tosses his head back, arching into your touch. “Feels… so good!” He whines, tilting his neck so you have better access. With a grin, you lick a stripe up his pulse point, making him shiver and sending even more blood rushing to his cock.

“Don’t stop. Pleeeease.” Vash grinds against your hand, desperation bleeding into his voice. You squeeze his cock gently, making him let out a strangled “aaaah!” and lean his forehead onto your shoulder. “Baby, please… You’re killin’ me.”

Laughing softly, you free him from his boxers, tapping your fingers on the precum leaking from the tip and stringing it out, then slicking your palm over the head. His reaction is instant—whole body shaking and cheeks flushing hot as he unsuccessfully tries to keep his composure, letting out a loud “fuck!”

Using the collected slick as lube, you grip tightly around his cock, jerking the shaft slowly and avoiding grazing the head until he calms down.

“Good boyyyyy. Look at you being so good for me, Vash~”

He whines again, thrusting up into your hand and biting his lip, completely at your mercy. The greatest outlaw in history and he was absolute putty in your hands.

“W-what—” Vash chokes out while you continue stroking. “What about you??” Gripping the sheets, Vash closes his eyes and moans loudly when you lean down to flick over the head with your tongue.

“What about me?~” You look up at him, still holding onto his cock with your mouth open, drops of pearly pre on your tongue.

He huffs out a sigh, trying to compose himself. “You make it really hard to think, you know that?”

Nodding, you close your mouth and swallow, noting a slightly different flavor—more earthy, green notes than any you’d tasted before. Weird?

“I mean…” Vash reaches out and pulls you up into a kiss, then holds onto your shoulder. “What if we worked at the same time??”

oH…

“Are you sure?”

He grins again, nodding fast. Crawling up to the pillows, Vash holds out his hands and motions for you to scoot back towards him. You oblige, glad your face is hidden as he grabs your hips and pulls you to his mouth, immediately licking around the edges of your still-wet folds.

Letting out a pitiful whine, your focus falters momentarily, lost in the haze of pleasure Vash’s tongue is bringing you. You reach out to find his cock, having to stretch a bit to reach (since he’s so tall), but returning quickly to your pattern of stroking the shaft and teasing the head.

All you can do is focus on your rhythm as Vash continues to distract you with his flicks and sucks as he moans into your pussy. You can feel yourself getting wetter as both of you work, slick beginning to drip down your thighs (and you imagine, Vash’s face).

Crying out in pleasure, you pull away from Vash’s cock, clenching your legs as you feel yourself come close. “No, Vash’s it’s—!!”

You didn’t want to come so fast, but your body had other ideas, letting out a small gush of fluid as Vash teases your slit and rubs your clit, making you spill over the edge. You squeeze your eyes shut in embarrassment, feeling Vash sit up and lower your hips to his waist.

“Are you ready now??~”

You expect him to be upset or shy, but when you look back, he has another stupid grin on and looks happier than ever.

The humanoid typhoon sure was something.

“Ye-yeah, if you are…”

Vash finds a washcloth on the nightstand and dries his face while he watches you take off your bra, asking, “I don’t think we have any protection right now… Do you want me to pull out, or…??”

“I think that’s the only thing we can do? Unless you want to pause and go find some~”

He laughs, shaking his head. “I know I’m clean, I got a big checkup from the guy who made my arm just a week or two ago. Plus, we don’t really know if Plant DNA is compatible with human…”

“Hm?” He had said it so nonchalantly that you almost didn’t notice. “Plant? Like, the energy sources?”

Putting a hand to his chest, he nods. “I’m a plant. Not exactly the same variety as the ones in the power cells, but the same genetics. My caretaker Rem always said me and my brother were a ‘miracle’.”

“Can we talk about it more later?” You prompt gently, glancing down at his cock. “I’m glad I unlocked some Vash the Stampede lore, but I think we were in the middle of something??~~”

He laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, of course.”

There’s a twinge of sadness in his gaze now and you move forward, taking his face in your hands again. “I can’t wait for you to be inside me, Vash. Please. Fuck me.”

Smiling softly, Vash eases you onto his lap and holds securely around your waist with his metal arm. With his other hand, he guides his cock to your entrance, going slow and giving you time to adjust to his size as he eases inside you. When he hits the base, he leans into your shoulder, cockwarming himself a few moments as you acclimate.

“Jeez, you feel so good…” Vash murmurs into your hair, sighing happily. You wrap your legs around his waist tighter, trusting him to keep you upright. He fills you snugly, but not so much it hurts, and you clench around him once, letting out a whimper as he still refuses to move.

Pressing your hips down, you grind onto his pelvis, rocking yourself slowly as you hide into Vash’s neck and moan softly. He keeps the moment slow and intimate, rocking his hips up into you, matching your pace and energy until you’re ready for more.

It’s all so intimate—the sweat-drenched skin, panting breaths, hands grabbing into hair, feverish kisses, and complete trust. You’re intoxicated with the way Vash treats you like a goddess; a being worthy of worship and devotion. The way he kisses your breasts, grabs at your hips and waist, the way he times and angles his thrusts—his every thought is of pleasing you.

Laying back, Vash lets you stay on top, moving his hands to your hips to help you ride him. Bucking up with increasingly desperate thrusts, he lets out strings of “ah!!!” and “nnh!” with every motion, matching your chorus of whimpering cries. As you ride him, you reach down to your clit, rubbing slow circles as Vash pounds your sensitive pussy from below.

You can feel your second orgasm of the morning build quickly as your legs shake, your endurance starting to wane even as Vash continues unhindered. Holding still, you quietly scream out Vash’s name when your peak finally hits hard, squeezing your breasts through the shockwaves to heighten your sensations.

He watches you, lost in bliss, and memorizes every moment for later. He’s never seen anyone look as beautiful as you do in this moment: face contorted in pleasure and every part of you caught alight in bliss because of him.

Vash is feeling overwhelmed in the moment too; it can take time for a plant to come, even though they’re highly sensitive, as their complex sensory and nervous system has to partially restructure to prepare for genetic transfer. Vash can feel his non-metal arm go slightly numb as he gets even harder, noting that he’ll need to drink more water and be out in the sun again to regenerate later.

“Hey…” Vash smiles at you, watching as you slump onto his stomach. “I’m still not quite ready yet. Can you take more??”

Raising your head up from his stomach, you give him a weak but happy thumbs up.

He coos softly, pulling you up to lay on the pillows, “Don’t worry. I’ll do all the work. Just rest.”

Laying back, warmth still flowing out to your hands and feet from your high, you close your eyes as Vash lifts your hips to rest against his thighs. You soon feel his slick tip meet your slit and push forward, settling himself inside again. This time, however, the slow pace from the start is all but forgotten, Vash chasing his relief as he slams himself flush against you.

You can only focus on the sensory aspect of it all: the sound of his skin slapping against yours, the way neither of you can catch your breath, and how his grunts and moans get louder the faster he pounds.

Pushing toward your next orgasm, your clit is getting overstimulated by the metal of Vash’s thumb, mimicking your own motions from earlier and bringing tears to your eyes. You almost tell him to stop, but hold out, knowing he has to be close as he slows down, spluttering out, “I’m!!! I’m— nnh!!”

Sitting up onto your elbows, you watch as Vash pulls out of you, his tip bright red and swollen. He’s whimpering, almost crying, as he reaches down to swipe your slick onto his fingers and palm, making a fist and punching his cock through at a relentless pace.

“I’m so close!!! Gah!!! I’m! I’m coming—!!!” Vash is panting desperately, moaning out your name as he finally releases, splashing warm cum onto your stomach and thighs.

Completely drained, Vash shuffles on his knees to you and flops down, hiding his face into the pillows.

Sitting all the way up, you glance down at Vash’s cum on you and pick up a strand, analyzing it quietly: it’s slightly greenish in tint, a bit shimmery, and has a consistency more akin to translucent aloe vera than human cum. Popping your finger into your mouth, the same strange taste is still there—like lemongrass or cucumber mixed with a warm buttery taste.

Vash was full of surprises…

Looking over at your bed companion, you smile, seeing him already half asleep.

“Heyyyy, you did so good, baby. Rest, I’ll be right back…”

Petting his hair, just like the night before, you press a kiss to his forehead and go to clean up, leaving a sleepy Stampede to recharge until your return.

Do not repost or recc this work on tiktok / ao3 / wattpad, etc. It is meant for a tumblr-exclusive audience only 😚❤️‍🩹

[fairy-writes]

SO MANY KISSES, SO LITTLE TIME

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Trigun Stampede

Pairing(s): Nicholas D. Wolfwood x Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Gender Neutral!Reader, “Sweetheart” as a nickname, Types of Kisses

Notes: I’m still very new to the Trigun Stampede fandom. Seriously, I finished the anime two days ago. So please forgive me if I get anything wrong! (I’ve also only seen Stampede, so don’t come for me pls)

__________________________________________________________________________

Kissing Nicholas D. Wolfwood was hesitant.

He kissed you like he was scared you’d disappear. Like you were nothing but a mirage he couldn’t touch with his fingers. Almost as if he expected you to be a ghost and not a real person before him.

His lips are chapped, and he tastes like the cigarette and booze he had just had. But you can’t bring yourself to care all that much.

Because your first kiss with Nicholas D. Wolfwood is hesitant, yet as the kiss goes on, he gets bolder and more confident. But he still handles you with the delicacy of someone who was oh so scared.

You pull away from him gently, playing with the baby hairs on the back of his neck as you lean your forehead on his,

“That was a long time coming.” You tease, and he just huffs, pinching your side and making you squeal slightly.

“Shaddup. I wanted to do it right.” He grumbles but leans back in to peck your lips once more. 

Kissing Nicholas D. Wolfwood was tender.

It’s late at night, and Vash is snoring lightly in his sleeping bag just a few feet from you. Roberto and Meryl are asleep in the van, leaving you and Nicholas awake to keep watch.

After all, you never know when bandits could strike.

You toss a stray stick into the dying fire and look up at the stars. You can hear Nicholas lighting up a cigarette next to you, but you don’t say anything. You’ve chastised him enough about his smoking habits, and you know for a fact that he doesn’t care enough about his health to really do anything about it.

Eventually, you lean your head on his shoulder. He doesn’t move at first. He never does. But slowly, as if reassuring himself that this is truly okay, he wraps an arm around your shoulders and tugs you through the sand until you’re flush against his side. You hum when he asks if this is okay. He’s always asking if this is okay, even though he knows your answer by now. 

“‘Course it is. You know you don’t have to ask Nick.” You whisper into the night and hear him chuckle under his breath. He doesn’t respond. Not verbally, at least. 

Instead, he tilts your chin to face him and presses a kiss to your mouth. It lasts no more than a few seconds. You reach up with one hand to cradle his jawline, feeling his stubble scratch your fingertips and bring him back to your lips the moment he pulls away. He laughs,

“Can’t get enough of me, can ya, sweetheart?” He teases, and you grin, nudging his nose with your own. 

“Never.”

Kissing Nicholas D. Wolfwood was quick.

Gunshots rang out around you, and you ducked as one whizzed over your head. You could hear Vash trying to talk down the bandits trying to claim the bounty on his head. 

It wasn’t helping much. 

You unholster your pistol and check the magazine. Fully loaded like it had been a few minutes ago. Meryl and Roberto cower behind you, and you load a bullet into the chamber of your gun. Your trigger finger doesn’t touch said trigger just yet. 

Nicholas slides around the corner and bumps into you, hauling his cross behind him as one of the bandits throws a freaking grenade. 

“What a shit show!” He snarls, and you bark out a laugh, 

“Any chance we can leave Vash behind?” You say, not meaning it because Vash is a good person and an even better friend. He always had your back, just as you vowed to always have his. 

Nicholas scoffs,

“Trust me, sweetheart, I’d love to if it meant getting these bastards off my ass.” He says, peeking around the corner of your little hidey-hole before jerking backward to avoid getting hit with shrapnel from another grenade. 

Just as Nicholas makes to run back out, you snag ahold of the collar of his shirt and haul him down to press a bruising, quick kiss to his lips. He looks half-dazed with surprise but recovers in milliseconds. 

“Be safe out there.” You plead, and he grins that suave grin that has your heart stuttering in your chest, 

“Always.”

Kissing Nicholas D. Wolfwood was slow.

You sit up against pillows, nursing a bullet injury to your shoulder, some minor scrapes and bruises, and a fractured ankle to top it all off. The town you were in was small, with only a few hundred residents and the only medical clinic for miles. You had to shell out your last few double dollars just to pay to be treated. 

Nicholas sits beside you, cleaning his Punisher while you doze. He had volunteered to stay behind to watch over you while Vash went into hiding until you were healed. Meryl and Roberto holed up in the ramshackle inn down the road. 

“How ‘re you feelin’?” Nicholas asked, and you snapped awake. The painkillers you were given thankfully muted the pain to a dull throb, so you were able to adjust your pillows without any issues. 

“As good as I can be, I suppose.” You mumble, and he scoffs, 

“Needle noggin is gonna get you killed one of these days.” You shrug your good shoulder,

“I’ll live. I got you to protect me, right?” You say goodnaturedly and smile when his lips twitch up just the slightest bit. 

It’s silent for a beat. Then two. 

“Y’know… There’s something that might make me feel better.” You muse, and he looks at you, eyebrow raised, as he sets aside his Punisher up against the wall. 

“And what’s that?” He replies. You look up at the ceiling, tapping your lips with a finger before looking at your lover with a sweet smile, 

“A kiss.” 

Nicholas stares at you for a second before hanging his head with a shake and a chuckle. But he doesn’t say no. 

You knew that kisses were the one way to get him out of his slump. And you also knew that kisses were the one thing he never said no to.

So, he scoots off his chair and onto your bedside, where he leans in and kisses you slowly. You taste the barest hint of the medical serum he had used to heal himself after the gunfight and the cigarette he had had before stepping inside the hospital. You inhale through your nose and take in his scent of sand and the earthy smell that seemed to cling to him no matter where he went. 

Nicholas pulls away after the kiss and flicks your forehead, 

“Get some sleep, sweetheart. You’re going to need it if you’re gonna get better.” He whispers, and you roll your eyes. 

“Only if you sleep, too.” You say and tug him down until he’s lying with you on the cot. It’s small and, therefore, awkward, but you’ve slept in worse places.

The only thing that matters is that Nicholas is there with you.

[aimfor-theheart]

cielo,, how does nico react to you shifting around in his lap when you're in public w friends,, if you'd have any ideas,,,

of course i have ideas anon. of course. pls enjoy 💗

pairing: nicholas d. wolfwood x gender neutral reader

cw: sweetheart pet name used, flirting…suggestive…

ﾟ•┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ୨♡୧ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈• ｡ﾟ

the night is young and warm and hazy—the moon is a shy curve in the sky, glowing beneath thin clouds that amble by. the stars are dancing and bright, like girls in the night, heavendrunk and giddy.

on the patio of an old dive bar in the middle of nowhere, you sit in nicholas’ lap.

vash and meryl and milly are around the table. their drinks are almost empty—you’re just shy of finishing your own. the card game has just begun. some old one vash likes to play and milly claims she used to play with all her siblings. nicholas knows it because—well, when doesn’t he know a card game?

you and meryl are new to it but meryl has that determined little furrow to her brow. she’s set her jaw. she wants to win.

but you’re in nico’s lap, sitting pretty with your bare legs thrown over his. one arm looped around his neck so you can lean back into him and look at his hand of cards. he claims he’s tryin’ to teach you.

you haven’t been paying enough attention.

it’s a rare night that you really indulge in displays of affection this large, especially around the group, but you’re all a little tipsy and soft-hearted and there had only been four chairs around the table. they’d all taken their seat and nico, without missing a beat, had pulled you right in to his lap. fit you snug against him.

meryl hadn’t even said a peep about it, who usually complains if you get a little overly affectionate in front of her. instead, she’d just kept chatting away to you like nothing had ever happened. like you weren’t perched in nick’s lap with one of his arms looped around your waist.

vash eyes you a little funny from time to time—staring a little too long at you or nico. you catch him once glancing down to nico’s hands on the curve of your waist or softness of your thighs.

you don’t really mind.

“alright, sweetheart, let’s see what we got.” nico says to you, leaning back in his chair so no one can see his cards except you, nestled close to him.

you lay your head against his sternum to look, tucking beneath his chin. his arms are looped around you to fan the cards out for the two of you to see.

seems like a good hand to you—two queens, a jack, and a ten. you don’t say a peep, though, and you feel nico sigh beneath you. he nudges his nose to your temple absentmindedly.

he smells like the faded cologne he wears—grisalva and amber and leather. and a little like the sun, after a long day beneath it. bourbon on his breath. tobacco.

you nuzzle into him—you forget yourself for a moment. you have half a mind to dot little kisses against his jaw, maybe a little nip of your teeth—

“what card should we put down?” he murmurs, voice rumbling and low. you can feel it vibrate in his chest.

you squirm a little and sluggishly return your focus to the cards.

you eye them. then eye the card meryl put down.

you tap one of the queens.

“good call,” he says and leans forward, jostling you a little to put it down on the table.

“damn,” vash says and he’s got a flush on his face. you think it’s from the drink—he’s got the same drink as nico. something strong and stiff—milly does, too. she likes to keep up with the boys. “i’ve got a shit hand.” he laughs, nudging down a four.

you and meryl have something a little sweeter—peach and honey and liquor.

you don’t really know how the game is going.

when the round is over and nico throws down his cards, the table groans.

“i really thought i had him!” meryl cries.

“you’ll get him next time, meryl!” milly encourages, sliding the cards into her hands, collecting them all.

“hard to beat him this round.” vash agrees, looking at you.

with nico’s hands free, he squeezes your thigh, your waist. “got my lucky charm right here.”

vash’s eyes flicker. you squirm. vash quickly takes a sip of his drink, averting his attention.

“meryl, if you want, i can start cheatin’ for you.”

nico bounces his knees a little, jostling you, “you’d betray me like that?”

he hitches his chin over your shoulder to rub his stubbly cheek against your own. you can’t help but laugh a little, the soft, high way you do when it’s just you and nico. giggly and sweet.

“you always win card games.” you reply, “i’m rooting for meryl this time.”

he nudges his nose against your jaw and—

you wanna kiss him. you wanna turn in his arms and straddle his waist and you wanna—

your hips shift a little. his hand squeezes your thigh. maybe in warning.

“while i appreciate the support, i need to win fair and square.” meryl announces and the flush in her face, all rosy, is certainly from the drink. she hardly pays you or nico any mind.

“atta girl, meryl!” milly says, beginning to deal the cards again.

nico’s got his arms around you again to hold up the cards. you’re not really thinking of much except that he’s so big and solid beneath you and you wish his hands would do something else than hold some cards.

he has some rings on his fingers and you eye them.

you squirm again, imagining those fingers between your legs or in your mouth or—

this time, he rumbles in your ear, low and soft and just for you, “sit still.”

which only makes you want to move more.

he hums as he looks at his cards.

you have half a mind to purr, to wrap your arms around him and just melt into his embrace, let him have you whatever way he wants. and though nico can be a brute, he tries not to react to the way you shift again.

the game unfolds.

you try to stay patient but it’s proving difficult.

your hips shift fractionally, an aborted little rock, and you feel—

you feel that he’s hard and.

heat rushes through you, cracks through you like a lightning strike to an old, dry tree. and—

and you want more.

“how much longer until the game is over?” you try for casualness. nico huffs.

“probably a half hour or so,” milly says and then she looks dead at you and asks very cheerfully, “why? in a rush?”

vash coughs into his drink.

you feel heat rush to your face. “no!” you reply quickly, “i’m just gettin’ tired.”

“poor baby,” meryl mocks, “i better hurry up and win then.”

nico remains strangely silent. but when you shift again, he grabs your waist tight. he stills you. he doesn’t let you move like that again.

he finishes his drink—he tosses down his cards.

meryl shouts, cheering. she’s won finally and with it, the whole game.

“good play, stryfe.” nico grunts, “you caught on fast.”

“that’s what i do!” she boasts, clinking her glass with milly’s, then vash’s. then yours.

“and now you’re free to go—“ meryl looks at the pair of you and she flusters a little finally, “uh—sleep.”

vash laughs and milly chimes in, “beauty rest is important, after all.”

“yeah, yeah,” nico waves them off, “i need a smoke. and to sleep.” he says, more to you, as he urges you up with a little tap to your thigh. you hop up.

you bid your friends goodnight, downing the rest of your drink, before skipping a little to catch up to nico. the moment you’re beside him, his big hand comes down on the nape of your neck, and he pulls you in close.

you cozy up to him.

“you think you’re cute?” nico asks, leaning down a little, “squirming in my lap the whole damn night?”

“couldn’t help it,” you try to shrug, smiling up at him with a little too much innocence, “was feeling antsy.”

“you’re a brat.” he says, “you need better manners, sweetheart. i was enjoying myself.”

“oh i know,” you say, “i felt that—“

he swats your bottom and you yelp his name, scandalized and quickly glancing behind you to see if anyone saw. no one in sight. he guides you back to your room.

“maybe i’ll teach you some, huh?” he asks but he’s not really asking. you feel warmth hit your face. you peak up at him.

he squeezes the nape of your neck as his dark eyes find yours.

a fissure of heat, like lightning bursting across the sky.

“maybe a lesson in patience.” he says and though his tone is light, you hear the barb in it somewhere, catch the flash of his teeth when he smiles at you.

your stomach flips.

you have a feeling you’re in for a long night.

[bloodypeachblog]

Wolfwood X F!Reader NSFW headcanons/drabble

~~~♡♡♡~~~

~~~♡♡♡~~~

Ok, I'm not drooling over Nick here, but I get why others do, I can see it. If I weren't simping for Vash 24/7, sure, I'd settle with him. I could fix that attitude of his. But whatever, let's go. Don't know what this is exactly, but don't care, just enjoy. Those who wanted Nick's version, bon appetit!

• Now, this guy acts like a drunk asshole a majority of the time. He's also a shit priest. I wouldn't have him running your grandma's funeral, is all I'm saying.

• He can act cocky, sarcastic, cold, all that shit. But you can see right through that mask.

• you can tell that he was just a guy that was hurt many times as a kid and he only closed himself off and acted like an asshole because he didn't want to be hurt again. Can't blame him, honestly.

• when you joined him, he was curmudgeonly about it, but over time, you started to grow on him. But don't expect him to show it or say it.

• time goes on, he ends up catching feelings for you and in his head, he's like 'bro wtf is this sappy shit?'

• of course, he never fully showed it, but slowly, he started to be nicer to you, and only you. Little gestures, looks, and words that showed that there was more to him than the cold sarcastic prick persona.

• it wasn't until you both stayed at an inn and they only had one room with one bed available that things changed.

• it was the only place for miles and it wasn't safe to be out late at night, so you both agreed to stay.

• once it was time for bed, you suggested he sleep in the bed with you, since there was enough room for both of you.

• it takes him some convincing, but he soon agrees and climbs in with you.

• when you both ended up facing each other, he starts to blush a bit and you can see something different in his eyes.

• you ask him about it and he denies it.

• you keep pushing him and pushing him and pushing him until...

• "IT'S BECAUSE I'M IN LOVE WITH YOU, OKAY?! NOW SHUT UP AND GO TO SLEEP! GODDAMMIT!!" He turns his back to you in a huff.

• You're left shell-shocked by the fast confession for a few seconds. Wait...did he just...? Oh fuck, he did.

• you then smile and think 'ok I know what to do now.'

• luckily you felt the same way for him, so you felt that the time was now.

• you lift yourself up a bit and turn his head towards you and you kiss him on the lips, nothing deep, but just a soft and gentle press.

• Now, usually, he'd push you off and go 'what the ever loving FUCK is wrong with you?!' But...something was different tonight.

• he felt...okay with it. In fact...this wasn't all that bad.

• was it because it was you kissing him? Most definitely.

• he turns his body around and pulls you close to him, returning your kiss with a deeper one.

• you wrap your arms around him as your tongue danced with his.

• Jesus, take the wheeeeeeel~

• you both lose yourselves in the kiss and forget about the rest of the shitty world.

• it's not long until he shifts so he's on top of you and starts kissing your neck.

• you softly moan and he can't. Get. ENOUGH.

• he starts to unbutton your shirt and opens it to reveal your breasts, out in the open.

• his mouth and hands immediately going towards them, sucking and licking on one of your nipples while massaging your other breast.

• you can feel your lower heat start to grow warmer the more he did all of this to you.

• not long after that, he pulls your soaked underwear down and starts to eat you out.

• Oh yeah. This man eats pussy. I mean, look at him. Of course he does.

• you try to hold in your moans as you grasp at his hair, your fingers gripping it tightly, trying to ride the pleasure he was giving you.

• you feel his tongue all on your lips, your clit, even sliding inside a bit.

• man was on a mission to make you cum on his face.

• fortunately, that mission was a success.

• he wipes his face and licks his juice-covered hand clean.

• he sits up on his knees and takes his shirt off and undoes his pants to take his huge cock out, throbbing and dripping precum already. (Ok ngl, that's hot as hell).

• he grabs your hips and pulls you in, rubbing his cock on your pussy, teasing it.

• he loves to watch you squirm and beg, so he takes his time teasing you.

• "you want it, eh? You cute little slut. Say that and maybe I'll give it."

• you say what he wants you to say, that you're his cute little slut and no one else's. That you were made to only be fucked by him. That kind of shit.

• once he's satisfied with the responses, he smirks, says "that's my girl", and just rams himself inside you.

• guy is completely stretching you out, holy shit he's so big.

• no wonder he's a man of god, you would be too if you were blessed with such a gift like that.

• he slams your hips onto his, going balls deep.

• he's either licking, kissing, or biting your neck and shoulders as he fucks into you.

• now it's getting REALLY hard to hold in your moans, so when he gets the message, he kisses you deeply and lets you moan in his mouth as much as you want.

• he pulls you up so that you're both sitting up, but you're facing him and while you're riding him, he's licking and sucking and kneading your breasts.

• you didn't believe in God before, this man will make you see the light.

• he whispers the dirtiest shit in your ear. Just, pure filth. To the point that it's questionable whether he is a man of god or not.

• but you didn't care. Oh no, you were too busy drowning in pure ecstasy while you bounce on his throbbing cock.

• you were positive you came about, like, 3 times already, but he was still going.

• and you loved every second of it.

• now, the question is, does he 'use the back door'? Oh hell yeah, no doubt. If you're cool with it, of course. He preps you real well, too.

• and I hope you don't mind occasional hair-pulling, because he does it. Short or long hair, he'll grab it and use it as leverage so he could fuck you harder.

• soon enough, he's reached his limit, but no way in hell is he pulling out.

• if God made it so a man's seed can be accepted in a woman's womb, well, Nick isn't one to neglect that, now is he?

• So Much Cum™

• Dude's been backed up for years, being a man of the cloth would do that to ya.

• but you're happily accepting it, your pussy and womb drinking it up to full capacity.

• once the deed is done, he'll throw you a towel to let you clean yourself. While you're doing that, he lights a cigarette.

• Once you're done and he's finished off the cigarette, you and him are lying in bed, holding each other close, fast asleep.

• before he dozed off, he planned on what he would do for round 2 in the morning.

~~~♡♡♡~~~

(A/N: does this apply to 1998 Nick? Fuck yeah, it does.)

[yurinaa-world]

Hello! Could I get some headcanons for Vash and Nick (separate) and how they act with their crush and how they confess? If not that’s totally fine! Thank youuu!

Characters: Vash and Nicholas x Gender neutral reader

Synopsis: How they act with their crush and how they confess.

Warnings: Fluff

Vash "The Humanoid Typhoon"

Vash is not really that good at hiding how he feels, especially how he feels about you.

Vash speeds up your errands so you can relax.

If you're feeling down, he will stay by your side the whole time, comforting you until you feel better.

Vash is just so madly in love with you.

No matter what you do, to Vash, you look divine.

When you give him a compliment, he’s in another world; it's just not the same to him when other people give him a compliment.

How does Vash confess to you?

He wants it to be the perfect place to confess to you—somewhere where it's just the two of you.

I could see him as the type to overthink the confession.

To him, he’s being greedy by asking you to be by his side; he's worried that you might get hurt because of him.

His thoughts set him back, but he’ll still go through with it.

When he finally does confess to you, his face will be so red.

He would tell you everything he likes about you before telling you he likes you and asking you to stay by his side.

When you say yes to him, he will be so happy; his eyes will be sparkling like diamonds.

Nicholas D. Wolfwood "The Punisher"

Everyone could see his preference for you.

When you're feeling down or stressed, we'll give you your favorite flavor of lollipops.

He teases you more than he does with others; seeing your annoyed expression is the cutest to him.

If you slipped in the sand and fell face first, he'd burst out laughing.

He'd give you nicknames just to annoy you; he's very creative with them too.

How does Nicholas confess to you?

He would be worried about the whole thing; he's Nicholas "The Punisher."

Would you really want a man like that, who has so many enemies? You’ll become their target as well.

But for him, leaving wasn’t something he wanted to do; his heart betrayed his brain.

When he does confess to you, he hopes inside that you will say that you like him too.

When you said yes, he was so happy and started smiling a little.

[peachyloveswriting]

Hello! I came across your trigun post and wanted to ask for a Wolfwood x cold gn reader who basically travels around with him, but what he doesn’t know about them is how flirty they can be without realizing it

I hope You’re doing well and that you’re drinking enough water and resting well!! Please take your time :))

WERE YOU ABDUCTED BY ALIENS (Wolfwood)

SUMMARY: "The aliens abducted you!" He throws his words up into the night sky. "They took you!"

He's so used to the cold shrugged off responses he gets from his new travel companion that he's absolutely convinced you've been abducted by aliens.

NOTES: Set before Vash and the others find him. All future Trigun fics will not be show specific, I might mix new with the old since I like them both.

⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝

Nicholas D. Wolfwood, a mysterious man. Although he claims to be a priest, you have your own personal thoughts about him. You don't have many bad things to say, he saved you; Plucking you from the dry and desolate dessert.

Sand seemed to stretch on for miles, the wind blowing your eyes full of sand. The nearest city was nowhere to be seen not even as a speck on the horizon. You tracked onward, bleary eyes and tears from the wind blurring your vision. Thanks to the state you left the previous town in, you had no food or water. Any hope you had of making it anywhere was gone by sundown. Thankfully the blistering sun had stopped beating down on you for the night but you refused to stop wandering. The further you strode, the more obvious your exhaustion became.

Out beyond the whipping winds came a loud and strange noise. It grew louder with each passing moment before you could ignore it no longer. Gazing back, you were met with a strange sight. Clad in a black suit, came a man on a motorcycle. On his back was a massive geometric structure, in the past you'd heard it referred to as a cross however in any case you were unsure.

The engine cut and you stopped in your tracks to observe the man. That's when he called out to you. "Hey. Are you stranded?"

You almost weren't able to hear him over the wind, so you stepped close enough to feel the heat of the engine against your legs. "Come again?"

The raven head sighed. Between his lips lazily hung a bent half-lit cigarette, just barely clinging onto life. He turned his head and spit it into unforgiving sands. With his forthcoming offer came his name and his occupation. Albeit, he was a stranger you gladly accepted his offer and situated yourself on the back behind him. (That was only after having to carry his cross)

The days carried on from there out. Just the two of you together traveling through this empty desolate land with nothing to cling too but yourselves. The doubt only came shortly after meeting him, and it was inevitable. Danger lurks all about underneath the sands just waiting to swallow anything whole. You were almost a victim of said incident until he whipped out that big cross of his and shot it to oblivion. Even then you wouldn't dare ask him any questions, but in the back of your mind you were thoroughly pleased with the sight granted you that night. Just the two of you alone, watching him bravely face death to save you... Was hot.

Pulling you from your thoughts was a sharp flick to the forehead. With quick reflexes, you grabbed Nick's wrist and twisted with a nonchalant gaze. He calls out, writhing and crying in pain. "I was just trying to get your attention!" He howls.

You hold on to his wrist for a moment longer and release him. Pulling his arm back like a wounded puppy he hisses between clenched teeth and rubs at where you grabbed him. "Jeez jackass. Don't have to be so rough. I'm not a masochist you know."

"Hmm." Blinking, you turn your gaze to the cold and dark barren waste around you. The fire lit on the ground in front of you casts your shadow out across the sand behind you, it dances with the flames. Sometimes you wonder if you should open up to Nick, he seems like a decent guy. Through all this time with you he's tried to get to know you and builds a somewhat symbiotic relationship with you but you just refuse. At times it feels bad to let him sit and sulk in silence instead of indulging yourself with mindless talk.

There's a soft nudge at your side that pulls your game back to Nick. "Penny for your thoughts?" He urges as two of his fingers rub together.

He sits beside you, his elbows resting on his knees. Resting lazily between his lips is yet another bent and dying cigarette, the smoke dancing up and beyond his head. His eyes gaze at you with distinct interest and the reflection in his eyes dances with the limelight of the fire. Perfectly defining his best features are the shadows, that of which has become his best friend. It contrasts a soft glow on his skin that radiates warmth compared to the night surrounding him. By the gods he's perfect and it takes all of you not to say that.

"You." It slipped. Just mindless self-indulgence. You're out in the open now, he would be a fool to not realize what you just said. Though you're feeling more of a fool than he is.

"Eh?" He stares blankly at you. Confusion is clearly written across his well defined features and intensity burns in his gaze. Of course he would be confused. "My thoughts... They are of you."

His gaze moves to the finger now pointed at him. The tips of his ears are burning bright red with embarrassment. "Of me?"

You nod to him. "Who else?"

Now it's Nick's turn to fall quiet as he looks away and at the fire. His contemplative look, furrowed brows and pursed lips, fades away into a more relaxed, smug grin as he turns back to you. You've never doted on him when he playfully made such comments to you, he thought he was doing something by poking you back for what you said.

"oh yeah?" There's a mischievous glint in his eyes. "What about me?"

Without looking away from his gaze, you answer truthfully and unabashedly. "You're hot." You state simply.

Nick's smug grin falls flat and his eyes open wide. His calm and cool demeanor falls to the ground like shattering glass. Lips opening and closing like a fish in water his cigarette falls to the sand. "Huh?"

He doesn't believe a word you just said. For this entire journey you've yet to give him any other detail than your name yet here you were calling him hot. He didn't dislike it, in fact it made his stomach churn with excitement. "Who are you?" He narrows his eyes at you inquisitively. "What did you do with them?" His face grows closer to yours, a faux anger reading in his voice while his finger prods at your collar bone.

"Where did you take them you crazy alien?" His voice raises the final question, and his nose is only inches from yours. Staring at him nonchalantly, you blink for a moment. Staring directly into his eyes until you burst with laughter. Throwing your head back, you howl until your stomach clenches in sore pain and tears prick your eyes.

Raising your head to look at him you speak. "You really are crazy." At first your voice is flat, without emotion. But a smile cracks your face again. "Crazy hot."

Nick's heart is beating wildly in his chest and heat floods his face. Dipping his hand into the inner pocket of his suit it shakily pulls out his shades. Flipping them open and sliding them on, Nick looks away. He's too flustered to even look at you now. He took interest in you the moment he met you but the attraction he felt has only doubled now that you spilled your heart to him. Just hearing a laugh from you whether real or fake makes his heart soar to unimaginable heights.

"Too much... To beat." His hand slaps over his chest where his heart is and clutches tightly at the fabric. "Can't take it any more." With a strained and raspy voice he falls onto his side with his tongue sinking out in a cartoonist manner. You left over to peak at him.

"What are you doing?" Leaning closer to look at him, you squeal in shock at him suddenly rising back up to harshly grab your shoulder. He carries panic in his face as he shakes you. "The aliens abducted you!"

He throws his words up into the night sky. "They took you!"

[niiyuoe]

Suddenly thingking nicholas in smoke like to smoke secretly behind the school and you being the studen council like to caught him 😗

Nicholas that surprisingly be good at math and sometimes.. He gotta be the one teaching you for the exam

[raitonsfw]

𝚛𝚞𝚕𝚎𝚜.

navigation: about me. m.list. taglist form. kofi.

fandoms i will write for:

bungou stray dogs.

my hero academia.

attack on titan.

jujutsu kaisen.

demon slayer.

danganronpa.

black butler.

trigun.

characters i will write for:

bsd: osamu dazai. chūya nakahara. fyodor dostoevsky. nikolai gogol. sigma. ryūnosuke akutagawa. ranpo edogawa. edgar allan poe. atsushi nakajima.

mha: tomura shigaraki. tōya todoroki (dabi). keigo takami (hawks). kai chisaki (overhaul). shōta aizawa (eraserhead). tamaki amajiki (suneater).

aot: levi ackerman. eren jaeger. hange zoë. reiner braun. armin arlert. porco galliard.

jjk: satoru gojo. suguru geto. ryōmen sukuna. chōsō kamo. yūta okkotsu. fushiguro toji. nanami kento. mahito. higuruma hiromi. kashimo hajime.

ds: obanai iguro. tengen uzui. giyū tomioka. kyōjurō rengoku. muzan kibutsuji. akaza. douma.

dr: nagito komaeda. hajime hinata. izuru kamukura. makoto naegi. junko enoshima. mikan tsumiki.

bb: sebastian michaelis. undertaker. gregory violet. edgar redmond.

t-gun: vash the stampede. millions knives. nicholas d. wolfwood.

general rules:

yes; character x fem!reader. headcanons. sfw. nsfw. threesomes. sub/dom undertones. breeding kink. mommy kink. pegging/strap ons. sex toys in general.

dark content such as aphrodisiacs, cheating, degradation, blood play, corruption kink, yandere themes.

fantasy themes (faerie, mermaid, etc) and canon plot (ie, mha; quirk. bsd; ability. jjk; technique/sukuna's true form. dr; ultimate/talent. ds; breathing styles/demon blood art.)

no; incest. non-con. pedophilia. vore. watersports/scat. weight/body image. pet play. age regression. daddy kink. aged up minors.

maybe; omegaverse (specifically for atsushi and keigo).

general notes; hange zoë will be written afab with they/them pronouns. makoto naegi will be written as strictly submissive. junko enoshima, mikan tsumiki, & nagito komaeda i am willing to write male!reader for.

when requesting, please do include whether it is nsfw/sfw and afab!/gn!/amab! and a lil summary of what'd you like. if including multiple characters, please state which ones from that certain fandom.

i also will write in a last name-honorific format (ie; Dazai-san, Komaeda-kun, Aizawa-sensei (or just sensei), -sama/-chan/-senpai) if you guys prefer that in your request! Just let me know in said request and which honorifics you'd like.

also let me know if there's a specific nick/pet name you'd like for your character. (ie; fedya for fyodor, kolya for nikolai... i won't write the two with these names unless its specifically a fyolai x reader or if you ask for these names.)

[h4venpha]

𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠…? 𓂃 ⟡

gunsmoke band au! vash x reader

cw: suggestive actions/words, implied (light) possessiveness within polycule (reader, vash, and wolfwood)

a/n: idk i just think gunsmoke!vash is the biggest fucking tease ever. PART TWO WITH WOLFWOOD SOON ME THINKS…

"how is it now?" you ask, clipboard clutched in your arm as you walk back over to milly and livio from the side of the stage. they're both still in their casual wear as they pluck their strings, the sound ringing out from the speakers above.

"i think it's good for now," milly turns to you, lifting the strap of her bass over her head before setting it back on her stand. "we might have to adjust it later when wolfwood finishes up." livio follows her, leaning his guitar onto it's stand.

"and he's been in there for a while, it's probably our turn next." he adds, running his large hand through his white, shoulder length hair, which would soon be spiky.

"sounds good," you say cheerfully before turning to the other side of the stage. "just tell nick to hurry up cause need to check the signal on his..." and yeah his guitar is still in it's case, in the exact spot where he put it down earlier. "just tell him to hurry please." you laugh exasperatedly.

"yeah, i'll tell him," livio nods, smiling as he walks side by side with milly to the stylists room, their shoulders brushing softly.

you hook your pen onto your clipboard and make your way over to vash sitting behind his drum set, phone in hand. dark makeup around his blue eyes, lips tinted a nice, natural pink, his blond hair shaggy and messily styled just the way he likes it. he's wearing a black mesh shirt, the sleeves cut and exposing the peachy smooth skin on his side.

“y/n!!” vash chirps, tucking his phone into the back pocket of his ripped jeans when he notices you.

“ah, i still need to hook up your drum set—“ you remind yourself and begin to make your way back over to the mixer beside the stage. but vash stops you before you can.

“oh it’s fine! you can do it later when they finish,” he says, shrugging it off and pulling his sticks out of it’s hanging sleeve. “how about i teach you a something while we wait?” vash suggests, twirling the stick once in between his fingers. you pause, considering for a moment. well he was already finished styling and it was another hour before fans would show up, it wouldn’t really hurt to take a small break, would it?

so, while you should be checking over everything, you’re here instead: sitting in vash’s lap, his hands around and directing yours as you hold the sticks, tapping lightly against the toms and the cymbals. hes so fucking warm. the heat from his body soaking through your shirt, it didn't help that he was wearing practically nothing. who decided to put him in a mesh shirt?

"just like that..." vash's voice is smooth and syrupy, lips brushing temptingly against your ear. he grins as your breath hitches in your throat at the contact.

“you got it now?” he asks, releasing his hold and letting you play on your own. and no, no you don’t, because the moment his hands leave yours, they’re sliding down your sides to rest on your hips, fingers pressing into your skin, causing you to miss a beat.

“focus, cmon,” vash purrs as he begins mouthing at your nape, his nose poking at your skin. leaving faint reddish-pink marks across your neck, the tint on his lips rubbing off. vash moves down, fingers tugging your shirt to the side and licks the soft skin at the base of your neck, his piercing hard and prominent in contrast to his soft tongue.

one of the sticks clatters to the ground.

“will you—?!” you jerk away, face flushed and warm as you start to get up. vash easily pulls you back.

“stay still! i’m trying to teach you,” vash exclaims, sly smile playing on his lips as he hugs your waist. he nuzzles into your jaw, laughing softly.

“you’re not teaching me shit–” you curse.

“shhhh you know you like it,” he teases further, catching your wrists with one hand as his mouth latches back onto the side of your neck.

“—just testing with vash, and then we can sound check all at once.” livio’s voice echoes as they step out onto the stage, adjusting the spiked cuff on his wrist. your head snaps at the sound of his voice, like a deer in headlights, while vash smirks.

“oh they’re definitely doing something,” wolfwood rolls his eyes, fingers ruffling up his styled mullet as milly and meryl follow behind. he stalks over to his instrument case and unzips it. meanwhile, vash lets you off his lap with one last kiss, obnoxious loud of course, a sharp mwah! you shove at him and quickly pick up your clipboard and move to the side, letting them set up.

“just waiting for you all,” he reaches down and picks up the drum stick you dropped. “you jealous you didn’t get a taste?”

“no,” wolfwood whips around, glossy, black guitar hanging off his broad shoulder. “let’s start.” he sighs, plucking the strings on his guitar lightly to tune.

but standing by the mixer as they practice through the setlist, you notice the glances he shoots at you. dark, sharp eyes flickering over to you, raking your neck. he can see the reddish tint marks littered on your skin from the opposite side of the stage and it’s driving him fucking crazy.