#trigun maximum smut
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⸺ new pair ( 18+ )
nicholas d wolfwood x reader
cw shoe job, cis wolfwood, sub wolfwood, uncleanliness, humiliation, degradation, slight implied petplay bc i love sopping wet pathetic flavored wolfie, reader is mean, barely fucking proofread
this is definitely his best angle. his big, brown eyes looking up at you, a perfect view of the fullness of his chest, perky nipples peaking through the soft hair, and the spread of his knees making room for your cruel foot at his crotch. not just anyone gets the chance to see a ruthless assassin whimpering like a puppy under their foot. while it did take a whole ass fifteen minutes of convincing to make wolfwood finally unzip his slacks and get on his knees beside the creaky hotel bed, it was definitely worth it.
the drag of your shoe is more than enough for wolfwood to crumble. meaty hands clasped firmly together behind his back, resisting, he lets you meanly nudge his aching length. it’s cute really, watching him strain and try not to buck up whenever you gently circle the head with the bottom of your shoe.
now normally he would be disgusted with this. mortified, trying his absolute best to not think about what grime and dirt lingered on the bottom of your desert boots. but right now he can’t think of anything else but wanting to thrust his cock against the underside of it. it feels dirty— he feels dirty, but he can’t hold back the way his eyebrows pinch together in pleasure and pain when your heel digs into his balls.
“f—uck— hah..” wolfwood strains, his head thrown back, lips parted as he curses lowly.
“i know, i know,” you coo meanly, amused and smug. and to think that he was the one who said foot jobs were gross. “better than you expected?”
“shaddup—“ he begins to growl out, but it turns into a sharp whimper as you extend your leg forward and firmly press his cock up against his hairy pelvis.
“you said what?”
“noth- nothin’,” his eyes go from glossy to straight watery.
“yeah mhm,” you pull back your leg and let his throbbing cock spring back, before sliding the side of your foot up and down his shaft.
wolfwood keens, keeping his mouth shut from now on as you play with him. but he still aches for more, his hands unclasp each other, his shoulders relaxing as he reaches forward with shaky hands. wolfwood keeps his pleading eyes on yours as you stare down at him. he splays his large hands over the back your extended leg, one gently settling around the meat of your calf, and the other cupping the base of your ankle.
“want something?” you hum, quirking an eyebrow down at him. and wolfwood looks like he’s about to start crying. he nods frantically up at you, scooting closer and tucking your boot against his eager crotch.
“tell me.” you smile down meanly at him.
“let- let me use your foot?” he huffs out, leaking cockhead twitching against the rough laces.
—
forehead pressing into your knee, wolfwood humps your leg. white dress shirt falling off his shoulders as he hugs your calf, hips canting up and in circles. its honestly humiliating. knowing you are watching him as he humps his cock against your boot is exhilarating. both burning humiliation and arousal coursing from head to toe. it was all too much and too little at the same time.
“you’re humping my foot like a dog, sweetheart.” you laugh, using your pet name on him as he moans against your knee.
“shut- shut up.” he grumbles lowly, yet his hips seem to buck faster, eating up all of your sweetly condescending words and finding himself aching for more.
“poor thing.” you slide a gentle hand down his face, fingers stroking under his jaw. “you just love fucking my dirty boot, doncha?”
“mmh.. mgh.. y-yeah—“
“yeah? you sound like you’re about to—“
“fuh-uck! i-i am—!“ wolfwood chokes out, cutting your off as he goes rigid, cumming faster than either of you anticipated. he curses, lips pressing against your knee as his dick pulses and shoots ropes of cum across the worn laces and the wet leather. his knees slide apart on the ground as his entire body seems to strain as he gasps through his orgasm.
wolfwood rolls his hip gently, riding our the pleasure with his eyes closed. he only opens them once the post nut clarity finally hits him like a fucking train. he gingerly nudges his softening dick off your boot, letting it hang across the slacks low on his hips.
“shit,” wolfwood swallows hard, releasing his hand on your calf and running it over his face. he lets his hand fall, big, brown eyes filled with embarrassment still looking up at you, trying to ignore the fresh cum on your boots, but its hard when you’re staring down at him with a smug ass look.
“so?” you chirp, giving him a little head tilt.
“so.” wolfwood grumbles back, putting on a nonchalant act as he flips his white button up back over his broad shoulders.
“so are you gonna buy me new pair of desert boots then?” you laugh, lifting your foot up and leaning down to examine the streaks of cum he left on the leather and the laces.
“…yeah.”
#h5llpyre#nicholas d. wolfwood#wolfwood smut#trigun smut#tristamp smut#trimax smut#trigun fic#trigun 98#trigun stampede smut#trigun maximum#trigun maximum smut
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vash the. the stampede
#arsvnsart#digital art#ibispaint art#anime art#digital fanart#fan art#trigun#vash the stampede#trigun maximum#trigum stampede#trigun stampede#trigun smut#trigun vash#vash fanart#vash saverem#vash#artwork#artists on tumblr
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Muted.
✧ Nimble-fingered bonus chapter.
Rating: EXPLICIT (18+ ONLY) Summary: A teasing night on a rickety old couch with your beloved typhoon. Pairing: Vash the Stampede x f!reader Word count: 2.8k Content: smut, pwp, Vash swearing a lot, teasing and possessive Vash, finger sucking, p in v sex, silly little ending. A/N: technically a bonus chapter with some similarities to the first one, but you don't really need to read the first one to get what's happening. also vash's hands continue to give me unholy thoughts :3
18+ ONLY, MDNI!
“Haah… That’s it, mayfly. Just like that. Keep going.”
His shirt and jacket discarded, tossed somewhere on the floor along with all your clothes. His pants are pulled down to his knees, just enough to give you full access to his cock as his muscular thighs cushion your own, bouncing yourself on his lap, filling yourself over and over again with his throbbing cock.
Vash shuts his eyes tightly and lets his head fall back against the couch, letting you see the bob of his Adam's apple as he moans and groans out loudly into the room. His angelic noises mix with the sound of the withered couch groaning beneath the two of you, feeling the whole thing shift and creak with your combined weight.
“F-Fuck, mayfly. So fucking good," he hisses, his palms planted firmly on your hips as he helps you up and down on him, blunt fingernails digging deliciously into your soft flesh, just enough to leave little red marks that you know you’ll be wearing proudly for the coming days.
You lean forward slightly, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of his neck.
“You’re being too loud, love. We’re gonna wake the whole place up if you don’t keep it down.”
With an almost frustrated growl, Vash raises his head and meets your gaze, those baby blues half-lidded and filled with a deep, almost feral lust you don’t often see from the outlaw. He’s hungry tonight, completely starved for you and eager to get his fill of your body, and you’re more than happy to give it to him.
“Not like I can help it. You’re so– ah! – so fucking tight. You’re killing me here!”
“I just don't want anyone teasing us about this in the morning, or a noise complaint,” you say back softly, trying to soothe the typhoon, but gentle words aren’t enough to stop an oncoming storm.
Vash puffs out a deep sigh. You’re right of course, he knows that, but you’re making it damn hard to care about the noise he’s making. His eyes fix themselves on you, on your body, wanting to take it all in, wanting to touch every part of you, to see every inch of you. Watching the sway of your hips as you ride his cock, admiring the softness of your thighs, the bounce of your breasts, until those piercing eyes fall back to your face, a mischievous glint hiding behind his stare. Your body is perfect, like it was tailored just for him to explore.
“Then we better find a way to keep my mouth occupied."
Vash’s hands run up the sides of your body, tracing your curves until he stops at your breasts. With his prosthetic palm, he gently squeezes your breast and rolls his thumb over your nipple. He brings his mouth to your perked little bud, kissing and lavishing his tongue over the tender skin before carefully catching your nipple between his teeth and pulling back lightly, only to dive back in and suck it into his scorching mouth. His other hand falls to the globe of your ass, squeezing your cheek as you bounce yourself on his cock. You feel his hand leave you before you feel a firm slap, making you yelp, gripping tightly and digging his fingers into the plush fat of your butt. He pulls and pushes you down onto his lap, forcing you into a slightly faster rhythm that has your cunt pulsing around him.
“You are divine, angel. You know that? Makes me want to let the whole inn know that you’re mine," he groans as he parts his lips from your stiffened peak and keeps his eyes fixed on the way your face twists with pleasure.
"You like it, don't you? Like the idea of everyone knowing who you belong to?" Vash grins at you as he feels you begin to writhe against him and your back arch from the sensation. His hand grasps your breast even tighter, his cold fingers massaging your nipple, squeezing it between his thumb and index finger, twisting ever so slightly and causing your moans to ring out in the room.
"N-No," you whimper weakly, but you feel your own body betraying you.
"Liar," he growls against the shell of your ear. “I can feel your pussy squeezing me, mayfly. I know you like it.”
He goes back to focusing on your nipple, and the way his tongue swirls over the tip of your breast has your breath catching, an uncontrollable series of pleasured whimpers escaping you as you fall victim to his loving abuse.
“V-a-ah-sh!”
His lips part from your nipple one more time with a quiet pop, running his tongue along his bottom lip and collecting the excess saliva around his mouth as he chuckles hoarsely at you.
"You don't know what you're doing to me, sweet thing. When you whimper and moan my name like that, it just makes me want you even more," the outlaw purrs before he slaps your ass again, forcing out a groan out from deep in your lungs, your nails digging into the strong muscles of his broad chest.
“Look who’s the loud one now,” Vash teases, a wolfish grin splitting his face, clearly pleased with himself for making you lose control of your own voice. “Thought you were worried about someone hearing us?”
“It’s your fault,” you whine out with a pout, frankly a bit embarrassed that he can make you lose yourself so easily.
“Hm,” he hums, that mischievous glint in his eyes ever present. “We better keep your mouth occupied too then.”
Before he can even give you a chance to respond, the fingers of his warm and calloused hand are already tracing your lips, kindly warning you before he shoves his two long middle and ring fingers into the warm channel of your mouth.
“Suck." His voice is so soft, yet his command is firm and clear.
Without pause, your tongue swirls around the long digits, hollowing your cheeks and inviting them in with your soft lips, rewarding you with moans from the humanoid typhoon. You can’t stop yourself from whimpering and moaning still, completely drowning in the pleasure of having both your mouth and pussy filled with nothing but him. His attempt at keeping you quiet is backfiring.
“You’re still so loud. Having a hard time controlling yourself, mayfly? You're so cute," he coos, and you don’t miss the teasing tone behind his soft tone. “It's such a shame, really. You know I love hearing you, but I can't say I don't also love putting that little mouth of yours to good use.”
Vash leans himself back slightly, just enough to give him a full view of your cunt engulfing his cock over and over. He can see all of you, feel all of you– the way your pussy drools down his shaft and coats his thighs and balls with your mixed juices, the pretty white ring of cream you're leaving at the base of his dick, the subtle twitch of your hips as your core clenches around him. Then his eyes travel up to your chest, shamelessly watching your tits bounce with every little movement of your hips. His eyes don’t leave your breasts as he bucks up into you, pushing his cock so deep into you that you swear you feel the tip press a hot kiss to your cervix. The feeling makes you yelp in a mix of pleasure and surprise, jolting your body and making your breasts jiggle even more in front of his prying eyes.
“Fuck. Look at you. Taking me all the way in. Good girl," Vash praises and smiles in a sort of reverence and satisfaction. “So beautiful, mayfly. So fucking perfect for me, just for me.”
His prosthetic leaves your breast, trailing down to the apex of your sex and rolling his thumb over your clit. The feeling sends a shiver up your spine, mewling desperately against the fingers in your mouth. Those long digits glide in and out, following the rhythm of your hips, teasingly pressing against your tongue and muffling the sounds of your sweet cries.
"That's my girl," Vash says quietly and shakily, his lips sliding along your jawline and peppering your face with tender kisses, his fingers massaging and pinching the sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs. His own hips start bucking against you, pushing his cock deeper inside you with each thrust. His tongue moves to your neck now, his teeth biting into it softly as he feels you moan out more. Your hips start to stutter against his, losing your rhythm under his merciless onslaught of pleasure.
“Ah ah ah, don’t get too distracted now, angel. Be a good girl and keep riding me,” he whispers against the column of your throat, chastising you and praising you all at the same time. “Focus, love. You've got this.”
Your hands clench against his chest, desperately trying to keep it together despite everything he’s doing to make you fall apart. You squeeze your eyes closed, willing every part of yourself into being good for him, steadying your hips and falling back into that euphoric rhythm that has you seeing white behind your eyelids. He’s being so good to you, after all. You want to be good for him, too.
“That’s it. Fuck– yeah, that’s it. So damn good for me.”
He pulls his head back, keeping his eyes focused on his lap again, watching how your pussy sucks him back in every time you pull away.
“Squeezing me so damn tight. You’re so close, I can feel it,” he growls, and with one more gentle glide of his fingers over your tongue, he pops them out of your mouth, letting his hand fall to the plush of your thigh and giving it a firm squeeze. “Why don’t you let the whole inn know who’s making you feel so good, sweetheart?”
He’s right, of course. You’re not going to last much longer, and you can feel the heat rising to your face at his request. Such a dirty request from such a sweet man, but you’re in no position to deny him.
“Vash…” you say in muted tones, and as soon as his name leaves your lips, you know that’s not what he wanted, a disapproving “tsk” leaving his lips as he clicks his tongue.
“Louder. Who do you belong to?” he asks you again, carefully pinching your clit and making his desires loud and clear– he won’t let you off the hook that easily.
“Vash,” you say again, a bit louder this time.
“Look at me," he breathes out, his scorching breath ghosting over your already burning skin.
Your eyes flutter open, and at first, you can barely focus on him, your mind hazy from your oncoming orgasm. Those piercing sapphire eyes don’t so much as flicker from yours, regarding you fully and filled with nothing short of complete reverence, flooded with a primal, uncontrollable desire and an all-encompassing love for you – raging, yet serene.
So this is what it feels like to be in the eye of the storm.
“One more time, angel. Nice n’ loud. Make sure everyone knows you’re mine.”
His face is close enough to yours that you can feel his lips brushing against your own with every word he speaks, his fingers pressing firmly and circling your clit, turning you into a trembling mess on his own lap.
“Vash!”
You cry out in your euphoric haze, letting yourself fall into the raging waves of ecstasy wrecking your body. Your core clenches down on Vash’s cock in your climax, your body begging for him to give you everything he has, just as you give yourself to him.
“Y-Yeah– like that. Just like that, angel.”
He moans out in tandem with you, easing the pressure of his fingers against your sensitive bud and guiding you through your orgasm.
“A-Aah feels so good. S-Shit– I-I can’t– ’m coming!”
And with a sweet, broken cry of your name leaving his lips and echoing off the thin walls – a declaration to the heavens themselves of his love for you – his own hips stall, a delicious heat running down his spine as he spills himself completely into you, painting your insides white with his hot cum and leaving you feeling more full than you thought possible. He exhales a shuddering breath and eases the tight grip on your body, letting you slump down against him.
“I love you. I love you so much," Vash says breathlessly, wrapping his arms around you and hugging you to his chest, letting his face fall to your shoulder and resting his head against yours before peppering the side of your face with soft kisses. “You’re so good. Always so perfect for me, baby. I love you.”
You hum wistfully as he showers you with his tender affections, his touch so delicate and careful that it’s almost hard to believe this is the same man who was mercilessly teasing you and lovingly rearranging your guts mere moments ago.
“You okay, mayfly?”
You nod. “I’m okay, love,” you say back, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath, thighs still trembling against his own and shaky breaths mixing with his.
“Do you wanna keep going? Or do you need a minute? I can get you some water.” His flesh and bone hand comes up to cradle your face, tilting your head so he can kiss along your face the way he wants to. He’s barely recovered himself, and here he is concerning himself with your well-being.
“I can– I want to keep going,” you reply, leaning your head into the palm of his warm hand.
“So eager, mayfly,” Vash chuckles against your cheek. “Good, ‘cause I’m not quite done with you yet,” he mutters hoarsely as his kisses turn more passionate again, his mouth focusing on the side of your neck, those sharp teeth gently nipping at your skin. “What do you say I get you off my lap and I bend you over this couch, huh baby?”
He already has you moaning again. He knows your body better than he knows his own, and he knows exactly what buttons to press to get you squirming on his lap again. Your response is a subtle roll of your hips, angling yourself so you can sink down onto him completely, and you can feel the groan he lets out vibrating in his chest. He may know your buttons, but you know his too.
He pulls back from your neck, sapphire eyes drinking in the delicious sight of you. His lips part, but before he can speak, the sound of your heavy breaths is suddenly accompanied by a startling snap.
*Crack*
“Heh?” His eyes widen in confusion, your bodies stilling for a moment before you hear it again.
*Crack*
The surface beneath the two of you suddenly gives out, Vash’s hands instinctively wrapping around you and cradling the back of your head as you both fall back into the broken couch, its wooden supports having snapped under all the pressure.
“WHAAGH– Eek! Ouch ouch ouch!” Vash whines from beneath you as he absorbs most of the fall.
“Oh god, are you okay? Are you hurt!?” you exclaim, cupping his face in your palms, your eyes darting between him and the wreckage surrounding you both now.
No way that just happened.
“Ehh… I’ll be fine. My butt might be a little sore later though,” he groans, trying to sit up slightly. “You're not hurt, are you?”
“No, not at all. I'm fine. I had a big strong plant man to keep me safe.”
“What a relief," he sighs.
You two are awkwardly positioned now, Vash somewhat stuck in the wreckage of the broken couch as he keeps you safely planted on his lap, and you can feel his dick still twitching inside you.
“Hold on. Let me get off you. I'll help you up,” you say as you try to pry yourself off him. You try to find a surface to grab and pull yourself off of him, being careful with the bits of old, broken wood surrounding the both of you.
Yeah, this is gonna cost a pretty penny. That paired with how you just cried out his name so loud that it absolutely carried through the thin walls of the inn has you flushing a deep red. There’ll be no hiding what the two of you were doing when you have to tell reception about their broken couch.
“Mayfly..?” Vash mutters, his big blue eyes looking up at you with a sheepish look on his face, his lower lip wobbling and sticking out in an adorable little pout.
“Yeah? What’s wrong?”
He has tears forming in the corners of his eyes, cheeks flushed in… embarrassment?
“I think… I think there’s a splinter in my ass.”
a/n: picturing Vash with a little bandaid on his butt. Also guess Vash and couches don’t mix well (sorry)
divider.
#trigun#vash the stampede#trigun stampede#trigun maximum#vash#vash the stampede x reader smut#vash the stampede x you#vash the stampede smut#vash the stampede x reader#vash x you#vash x reader#vash x reader smut#vash x you smut#vash the stampede x you smut#trigun smut#vash smut#pipwrites
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Vashmeryl smut comic below the cut.
#trigun#vashmeryl#vash the stampede#meryl stryfe#newtsdoodles#trigun maximum#trigun stampede#tw suggestive#tw nudity#but like. barely#finals week activated the smut brain cell like a damn sleeper agent#I just needed to draw some tender cuddles and suddenly it was seven pages#also nothing crazy happens the dude just grows a ton of wings cause what do you expect from me at this point
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Vash creature
[Twitter:@strawbit_ch]
#I don't ship them#but I thought this art was cool :]#vash#vash fluff#vash headcanons#vash imagine#vash the stampede smut#vash smut#vash the stampede x you#vash the stampede x reader#vash x you#trigun stampede vash#vash x wolfwood#trigun fanart#character design#character art#character concept#trigun#trigun 2023#trigun au#trigun fic#trigun headcanons#trigun imagine#trigun oc#trigun plants#trigun plants icon#trigun98#trigun maximum#trigun stampede#nicholas d wolfwood
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⸺ just like candy (18+)
vash the stampede x reader
cw breeding kink, so unprotected sex, crying during sex, cis vash, half ramble half drabble thing
vash the stampede and missionary combo is unmatched idc
vash hooking his knees under yours, spreading your thighs and making sure you can’t close them. forearms propped up on either side of your head, his sweaty chest pressed into yours, his forehead brushing against your with every rut and roll of his hips. hes so lost in it, babbling and sobbing, telling you how good you feel around him and how close he is to cumming.
also vash, who would never admit this out loud, but loves missionary because he can fuck into you deeper— meaning he can cum deeper into you, and that thought in of itself drives him crazy. when he gets close, he pulls you tighter against him, face pressed into your shoulder, drooling and pleading desperately.
“i ne-need to cum inside, hah, pl-please—“ vash breaks off into a sob, voice going up an octave, high pitched and needy as tears brim his big, glossy eyes. “pleasepleaseplease!” and the moment you give him any sign of confirmation, he hisses through his clenched teeth, unintentionally pushing you up the creaky bed in attempts to get himself deeper into your guts.
“oh— oh god—“ glass eyes rolling back into his head, a deep shudder runs through him, his hips trembling as he fills you up to the brim with his sticky seed. vash’s dick twitching weakly as his balls pulse and finish emptying inside you. still panting, he props himself back up just to lean back down and capture your lips in a slow kiss, enjoying in the heat of your body and the slick gooeyness inside you.
#h5llpyre#vash the stampede#vash smut#trigun smut#tristamp smut#trigun maximum#trigun stampede smut#trimax smut#vash the stampede smut#vash x you#vash the stampede x reader#vash the stampede x you
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I love Wolfwood nail polish 💅🏻
#drawing#fanart#trigun#trigun stampede#nicholas d. wolfwood#trimax#vashwood#vash the stampede#digital art#wolfwood#trigun maximum#trigun 98#artists on tumblr#small artist#suggestive#vashwood smut#smut
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Three Empty Words.
✧ More than friends, less than lovers.
Rating: EXPLICIT (18+ ONLY)
Summary: You love Vash. Does he love you back? It's complicated. Pairing: Vash the Stampede x reader Wc: 1.8k Cw: angst, smut, situationship, penetrative sex, pwp, crying, rough sex. An: trying to get myself back into writing after being gone for a little bit so sorry if this is a little bit messy! Also I don't usually do song recs buuuuut Song Recommendation: Sugar - Sleep Token
Vash is emotional.
He'd probably never outright admit that to you, and he seems awfully intent on keeping you at an arm's length no matter what you do, but you've been around him long enough to notice those rare and faint cracks in that perfect facade. As much as he tries to hide it, you can see it. His eyes are sad and his smile is hollow. He desperately seeks for love in a world where it feels impossible to find, and yet denies himself of it when it's right there, walking alongside him.
But there are some nights, after particularly strenuous travels and when too much venom has been spat his way where that handsome facade finally cracks.
He's vulnerable, and he reaches for you, baring to you his fleeting moments of weakness. Deep down, you know what he's really searching for. Forgiveness, acceptance, love. But now, he seeks you for comfort in any way you're willing to give it to him and as much as you are willing to give him. He wants mercy. At least for the evening.
His will is strong enough that he'll never allow himself to have you, but just weak enough that he can't truly resist you. He yearns for you.
And you're not quite sure how it all started, or how you both got to this point - how you let things get so messy - but damn it you'd be lying if you said you didn't want this in any form. As long as you can have him. Even if it's just physically. Even if it's just for a night.
Sometimes it's loving, with worshipful hands – one smooth and cold, one warm and calloused – tracing your lines with a reverence you have to tell yourself isn't real. With wet lips pressing featherlight kisses along the curves of your neck and down the divot of your collarbone, his mouth wandering a slow, meandering path along your body and meticulously etching out every spot that makes your breath hitch like he's trying to commit it to memory.
It's tender, with languid strokes that have one orgasm flowing into the next, until you're left a pliable, boneless mess beneath him, whimpering his name over and over and your body begging for him to do whatever he wants to you. Luckily for you, you're in good hands. He's here to take care of you, even if it's for his own selfish reasons.
Your name falls off his lips like a plea for forgiveness, kisses oh so tender, drinking your moans like they're the sweetest ambrosia. He roves over your body with intimate familiarity and pulls you apart piece by piece with his fingers, his mouth, his cock, cataloging every inch of your skin before he puts you back together so he can do it all over again, all while whispering a litany of praises and sweet nothings.
“You're so beautiful when you're like this. Always so perfect, mayfly.”
“You're doing so well, feel so good around me.”
“Am I hurting you? Don’t wanna hurt you, sweetheart. Just wanna make you feel good.”
“Let me just move your legs like– Yeah, like that. That feels good, right? Just like that. Now I can fuck you deeper.”
“You like me filling you with my cock like this, mayfly? You take me so well. So perfectly.”
“You're so pretty like this. All flushed and delicate.”
“Not so fast, angel. Wanna make this last. Wanna savour you.”
“So beautiful when you come. I could watch you for hours.”
“I love you.”
“I love you.”
Sweet, beautiful, angelic, the words dripping from his lips like syrup. You hold on to them while you can, because you know they'll be gone come morning.
You wish he'd let you in. You wish he'd truly open up to you and not only seek you out when he's desperate. Fuck, you love him. You see him at his most vulnerable moments, you hold him close when he lets you, and you let him take pleasure in your body as he needs because you love him, all sides of him.
But, Vash is also angry, and that's a side of him he keeps hidden even in his most delicate moments.
Sometimes, those feelings he keeps buried deep bubble up. When he's completely run out of those briefly lucky moments and he's forced to face the darkest, sickest sides of what humanity has to offer and he's made to question what it's all even for.
Sometimes it's almost selfish, possessive, with him wordlessly cornering you and his large frame caging you in against the nearest surface, strategically leaning his arm up on the wall next to your head so that you have nowhere else to run off to, nothing else to look at, only him - wholly commanding your attention with sapphire eyes begging for something he knows you can give him. He needs a reminder, and you're far too swooped up in the typhoon to deny him.
It's impatient, with his flesh and bone hand holding your hip in a bruising grip while cool metal keeps your face forcefully pressed down into the dusty sheets. You wouldn't be able to cry out for him to stop even if you wanted to as he steals your breath away every time his scarred hips slam against the softness of your ass, your desperation making itself obvious to him in the form of the slickness pouring from between your thighs. He has your mind swirling under his ruthless onslaught of pleasure as he takes full advantage of each and every one of your lewdest weaknesses. He knows exactly where to touch, where to taste, where to tease, where to bite, red marks littering your pretty neck that'll bloom into faint purples and blues come morning. The dingy walls echo with the wet sounds of flesh connecting as he starts greedily chasing his own pleasure with every rolling buck of his stuttering hips, your name spilling from his lips like a curse, fucking you like it's another sin for him to bare.
“Take it. Take all of it, mayfly. I know you can.”
“Spread your legs wider. Wider.”
“Look at you. Such a mess.”
“Gonna fuck you dumb, make sure you don't know which way is up or down when I'm done with you. Until the only thing you know is me.”
“Say my name.”
“Say it louder.”
“Touch yourself. Wanna watch you cream on my cock.”
“That's it. Fuck– That's it.”
“So fucking pretty when you fall apart.”
“Come for me. Come for me now.”
“Such a good little thing for me. Nobody else gets to touch you like this, make you moan like this, fill you up like this.”
“Tell me it's all for me. Tell me it's all mine.”
“Look at me.”
“Let me see you break.”
And when his breaths calm and his pleasure filled haze fades, when that fleeting moment of rapture dissipates, the guilt comes flooding back, leaving him faced with where he is, what he's done, and worst of all, who he's done it all with.
No matter how it goes, it always ends the same way, with him whispering his broken apologies as streams of tears pour from those ethereal pools of azure.
“I'm sorry.”
“I'm so sorry, mayfly.”
“I'm so sorry.”
It doesn't matter how many times you try to comfort him, how many times you tell him that you want this, or that you want him. Your sweet and gentle words do nothing to ease the ache he feels in his chest. If anything, you're making it worse.
“I don't deserve this. Any of this.”
“Especially not you.”
“Never you.”
He always stays close to you for the night. He sobs and lets his tears fall on the skin where your neck meets your shoulder, brokenly weeping his regrets, begging you for forgiveness. He cries until the exhaustion seeps into his bones and pulls him into a deep sleep, his tears still staining his cheeks and his limbs still tangled with yours.
You wrap your arms around him and keep him pressed to you, savouring the soothing heat of his body on your skin, the feeling of his breath on your neck, the peaceful tempo of his inhales and exhales. Your thumbs brush away any remaining tears, your fingers ghosting over his sun-kissed skin, dancing over the curve of his jaw, the highs of his cheekbones, over that cute little mole, down along the bridge of his nose until you're tracing over those slightly parted lips. You keep him close while you still have him, holding on to these fleeting moments of intimacy you get to indulge in. Like always, it'll be gone come morning.
It never goes into the morning.
No, when the morning light spills through the curtains and when the suns rise, you both pretend none of it ever happened. He rolls off of you and walks off towards the shower without a word. His tear-stained eyes are still puffy and red, but they don't even look at you. He keeps quiet, and when you're both cleansed of any evidence of your passionate evening together, he gives you that lovely, empty smile that you've grown to recognize.
It hurts every fucking time you see it.
You wander through empty desert together, making small talk, just like friends do. Never do you discuss what's happened, what you two are, what you feel.
Once again, you're kept at an arm's length.
Until the next night, or maybe it'll be the night after, when he's suddenly hugging you from behind with his breath on the column of your throat, whining and apologizing as he begs for you.
“I'm sorry. I know I don't deserve it, don't deserve you, but just… please. You're the only one I can trust with this.”
“Please, mayfly. I need you. I'm sorry.”
Sometimes, he waits until the marks he left on you have faded. Maybe it's so he can mark you up again, pretend like any and every part of you belongs to him and give in to that satisfaction he gets from knowing he's the one who does this to you, that he's the one who leaves you writhing and moaning and begging on soiled sheets for any ounce of his touch.
Or maybe it's so he can admire every inch of your divine, unclaimed flesh, and he can pretend he was never selfish enough to try to mark you to begin with. He can pretend that he was never so foolish as to believe he could touch the holy body that is you with his blightful and wicked hands.
And he can pretend that those three beautiful words never fell from his perfect lips.
divider source.
#trigun#vash the stampede#trigun stampede#trigun maximum#vash#vash x reader#vash x you#vash x you smut#vash x reader smut#vash smut#vash the stampede x you#vash the stampede x reader smut#vash the stampede x reader#vash the stampede smut#vash the stampede x you smut#trigun smut#pipwrites
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★ミ serpentine.
synopsis: naga knives has a sort of morbid fascination with you than manifests in a strangely sexual manner.
contains: naga/serpent knives, knives’ taxidermy hobby is mentioned, sort of medical? but he’s just exploring and weird, dubcon i think?, he has two weewees, and afab reader. 3.5k words.
note: teehee!! this is a (late) christmas present for my BEST FRIEND!! my cool, adorable, and wonderful bff @knivesbunny <33 hehehe enjoy bee + everyone else!!
it was about time you moved on in the world. getting a fresh start in the form of a cozy cabin at the edge of the woods sung your name and the price point was staggeringly low so, after confirming there were no safety hazards, you took the place. with dark wood and muted tones alongside a beautifully kept garden by the previous owners, how could you possibly go wrong? well, ‘wrong’ is an arbitrary term and ultimately up to the individual for judgement.
your moving process went without a hitch. furniture and belongings all being placed properly following a good deep clean plus a couple coats of paint, things any place would need upon a new owner arriving. you'd been rather happy at the final product, something dreary at first taking the form of your own home; a fond word. trinkets, cupboards of dishes, and an amalgamation of photos and artworks lining the walls to create an atmosphere you almost wished you could share but, alas, a solitary life was your preference.
the garden out back was complete with a greenhouse tucked to the side, surrounded by an abundance of flora and fauna that also colourfully dotted the rest of the greenery. small plots had been sectioned out for different fruits and herbs and the idea of being able to grow a large quantity of your own food was an exciting new feeling, one that you couldn't wait to grasp. thusly, it wasn't long until you found yourself kneeling in the grass and working new seeds into the dirt. a variety of the basics alongside some of your favourites was the route of action, one also deemed reasonable. between fondly nestling new seeds and sipping at cool beverages, the thought of the greenhouse slowly slipped your mind despite how vital it was to your task. swiping the gathered sweat from your forehead, you rose up to analyze your progress to which brought your eyes back to that small addition cozied up to the side of the property. the bags of dirt and tools resting on the ground would need a place to go after all... so, you wandered over to that little building and fiddled with the door.
the wooden door was slightly overgrown and gave you a good fight to open, weeds and rust seemingly actively working to keep you out of the space. stepping back, you looked it over a bit more, not wanting any splinters, before pressing your shoulder into it for added force. with a combined 'bang' and 'groan,' the door scraped across the inner concrete floor before coming to a stop about three quarters open. you huffed and slipped in, cursing the rotten chunk of wood and attempting to get a good look at what you were working with. eyes glazing over various rickety shelves, a sharp and icy chill rolled down your spine. a small nagging voice in the back of your head whispered ‘something isn’t right,’ in response to the unusual, for lack of better words, appearance of the inside.
atop aforementioned delicate shelves lay different jars full of an indistinguishable liquid and what appeared to be organs, small ones so hopefully not human, as well as a range of entire animals fully submerged in their own watery tombs. wind chimes made of bones twinkled from the ceiling above firmly locked chests and you weren’t totally sure you were interested in the contents. the previous owners, an old couple, didn’t seem like the type to hoard such morbid trinkets but sometimes it’s the most innocent ones, you figure. still, the lingering idea of this being the work of some beast that had chased them away from their lovely home rattled at the back of your mind ominously. shifting on shaky knees and feet, you contemplated poking around a bit but rationality told you to at least find a sturdy pair of gloves first. though, as it would seem, the choice wasn’t yours to make judging by that same yet more aggressive scraping and slamming door.
whipping around, you came face to face with… a man? one with frosty eyes, near white hair, and a scowl that could skin you alive. more importantly, he was hanging from the ceiling of the small shed you were now trapped in; stuck. with him. this… not quite man, if your judgment of his long serpentine looking lower half meant anything. all wide eyes and dry mouth, you gaped helplessly at him, attempting to find some sort of explanation for what exactly you’re doing, as if this isn’t your property he’s on. his eyes turned to slits seeing you fumble for words and, with an amount of grace that shouldn’t be possible, he slithered off the ceiling to instead… stand? lay? rest? you’re not too sure but he’s in front of you now right side up. pupils merely scratches inside his powdery blue eyes, you fear he’s deciding if you’ll make a good meal and you’ve half the mind to assure him you’re not as tasty as he may think. alas, he speaks before you get the chance.
“name,” it’s a simple but firm commanding question you weren’t quite expecting but, to be real, what were you expecting from an interaction with a snake man? you stutter out a whimper of a reply and he clicks his tongue; it’s forked, you note. with all confidence you can muster, not much, you promptly for his own. he hums low. “millions knives. shorten it to knives at most. don’t dare to give me any sort of nickname, as you humans often do; it’s abhorrent,” and you’re shocked he’s so eloquently spoken. perhaps there’s snake people schools you aren’t aware of?
“right. noted, millions knives,” you hesitate, not keen on irritating him further, as clearly just your presence has perturbed him, “i… apologize if i’ve intruded but… this is my property after all. some sort of explanation on your,” you gesture widely at the space, “hobby would be appreciated.” your poor attempt at mimicking his speech pattern has him letting out a chuckle that sounds more like an array of chitters. palms sweaty and desperately avoiding eye contact, you gulp hoping he’ll entertain your question before potentially swallowing you whole; snakes can do that. his tail flicks your shin jolting you to bring your eyes back to his, admittedly handsome, face.
“my… hobby, hm? it’s nothing to you,” a disappointing response, “were you hoping i’d have a jar your size, little human?” you’re positive he’s making fun of your fear yet somehow his words feel flirtatious in a way that has your brain swinging like a pendulum between crying out of petrification and placing a hand on his built chest. “i’ve been watching you for some time now. you’re utterly,” his tail wiggles up to grip your waist, “fascinating. a perfect experiment.” if he didn’t sound like he was flirting before, he sure does now.
his words were true to an extent beyond your knowledge. ever since the first tour you took of the place, he had kept an eye on your every move. knives hadn’t found an ounce of appeal in new people moving into the small home but, if he had it his way, it would turn abandoned for him to find sanctuary in. alas, the housing market wasn’t on his side as people inspected the place top to bottom and he was stuck merely seething beyond view; that was until you came along. all bright smiles and eager nods, he was beyond irritated with the way he found you undeniably irresistible. something so... keen would make a lovely study after all, he thought, though destroying you utterly and completely was off the table for he'd never be able to poke and prod at you after that. unfortunately, in the time it took for him to mull over a game plan, your first visit was over and he slithered back into the thick woods while scowling; unfair. the jump knives felt in his heart upon your second visit was one that caught even him off-guard, an emotion towards humans beyond that of revolt? unheard of and vile. yet, he was the one who had it and couldn't simply deny that he was feeling something beyond curiosity. your scent, perhaps? he muses over a handful of biologically reasonable conclusions for his reaction to a distantly nodding vash whos already figured out the truth. he saves it though, as to not have his other arm lobbed off, and instead hums along agreeing to every point with faint amusement.
it's with thoughts racing past at speeds no human could match, that knives brings himself back to the present, large palms and boney fingers coming to trail your jaw. another flick of his tongue appears between the grin now forming along his pink lips and impossibly long teeth; even a playful nip would draw extensive blood. he makes a sound between a hiss and growl as one sharp nail trails along your neck down to your sternum slowly, as if assessing a piece of meat; perhaps, in a way, he was. silvery tail wrapping around your left ankle, he tugs your leg up with his head dipping to peer curiously at the limb. you can't really blame him considering legs are the only human trait he lacks but the unsettling nature still makes you shiver. knives takes turns with each of your legs and arms, taking them in at all angles and seemingly pleased with what he was seeing. sure, he wasn't fond of humans at all but, he can appreciate when one is well made; easy on the eyes. a slightly morbid fascination, maybe. finally letting you go from his clawed grasp, he nods, satisfied.
"alluring. remove these pesky clothes," he scrunches up his nose while pinching the fabric of your shirt, "and seat yourself atop that cabinet." his gaze never once easing up, you're between bolting or following his instructions. the former would rely on you being stronger and faster than the behemoth of a man-snake standing directly in front of the door and you're positive you'd be dead two steps in. with trembling fingers, you pull the dirt dusted shirt from your body and shiver at cool air ghosting across your bare chest, only held back by the simple bra clinging to your breasts. you swallow thickly before shimmying off your denim shorts past your thighs and awkwardly down your feet. having not removed your socks or shoes, it was quite the task, but potential tetanus from the rickety floors wasn’t on the menu today. knives found amusement in your struggle, if the chittering in front of you meant anything though, in truth, he was rather charmed. such clumsy behaviour almost reminded him of a newborn bunny. face flushed, you finally unclasp your bra and slip off your panties with no more grace than your shorts had been discarded with, before perching yourself on the cabinet knives had dully gestured to.
“is this… is this good?” the words slide past your lips before you let them, sounding too pleading for your liking but knives seemed to enjoy that despite a hum being all he offered in return. his strong chest was quickly in front of your eyes, curse his fast snake body, while his hands found purchase on your legs again. with one palm on each of your knees, he gently eased them open, nearly purring at the sight.
“you’re something of a gem, hm?” his voice was low, hands inching up your thighs with sharp nails leaving a trail of goosebumps. “how very kind of you to welcome me with such a,” the forked tongue of his makes a third appearance, “wonderfully prepared gift? such a lovely homeowner…” though sarcastically sweet in tone, his words did nothing but shoot directly between your legs. “i’ve got a keen nose, little rabbit, are you enjoying being my area of study?” his gaze was hard as he looked at you down his nose and from between long lashes. “your most intimate nodes are crying out ‘yes’.” he presses against your folds to spread them with feather light fingertips, much like one would a dissection. spreading you softly, his head tilts to one side while his eyes seem to slowly drag up and down the weeping slit of yours he's not fully exposed. knives wedges himself fully between both of your legs as to not allow you to close them and his other hand joins in on the fun, prodding softly at your entrance. he seems to revel in the small whimpers you make, crystalline tears clinging to your lashes from a mixture of desperation and humiliation at letting him do such to you so easily.
employing a sort of gentleness and patience you didn't think he had, knives slowly eases in one of his fingers down to the second knuckle before pulling it out with a wet 'schlick' to wrap his mouth around it. the taste seemed to please him based on his own moan and he returned to his previous ministrations, softly thrusting the finger in and out of you. with the hand that had been used to spread you, he smoothly switched to rolling gentle circles over your clit, eyes still fixed firmly on watching the way your body reacts. a second finger accompanies the first in its delicate rock, encouraging more of the sweet sticky essence of you to drool out and across his hands. panting and whining, you buck pathetically into his hands with closed eyes and red bitten lips; you miss the way he slides to his knees. for a man so large he is more than quiet, something you can't match with the harsh suckling on your clit coaxing loud cries from you. his mouth curls the slightest bit with a smug smile and you can feel it past the swirling of his tongue and sharp incisors teasing your skin. briefly, you hope he won't bite. the soft plunging motions of his fingers turns harsh alongside the movements of his mouth. he seems eager to have you unravel on his face and, despite your own tattered pride, you can't stave off the shuddering of the orgasm that washes over in the most intense waves you've ever felt. embarrassingly loud slurps echo around the small shed as knives continues his own motions with glee. it's only when you gently push at his forehead that he shifts backwards and up, allowing you some reprieve from what he had just done. you're breathless, to say the least, having been made to come so shamefully on the handsome mouth and hands of this stranger but somehow you don't feel as though you were the only one who had fun despite his firm acclaims of experimentation.
you're struggling to regain your breath while knives looks you over with thinly veiled lust, you figure teasing him for it wouldn't go well so you restrain despite the thick atmosphere begging for some reprieve. while still gasping for air and shaking the post-orgasm fog from your head, he's pushing you down with his body weight and adjusting the way you lay across the cabinet to his personal preference; legs bent around his waist and hand beside your head. with hazy eyes, you look down to catch the way not one but two thick cocks slide out from the slit they had previously been held in. hanging heavy but curved up slightly, thick arousal is pooling at the tips and you think you can see ridges along the base of each. your jaw is slack as knives lets out another one of those chittery laughs.
"scared, bunny? no need, i'll make it work," his smarmy expression is nearly enough to have you shooting something snide back but he's lining up the tip of the lower cock and sinking himself in faster than you can think. "let go of any premonitions, this will be mutually beneficial."
if you could have any thoughts, they'd be nothing more than slurred curses but with the thickness and impossible length occupying and stretching your insides, you're rendered incapable. he's slow enough to give you some time to adjust but still fast enough that your body can't quite keep up with what he's giving; a pleasurable form of purgatory. knives allows his hands to wander your body, one coming to grip and gather your wrists to now rest above your head while the other fondles your breasts harshly. he's grabbing you in a way that feels inexperienced and almost charming though the harsh penetration is tearing you away from the idea. knives trails his hand from your breasts, to your stomach, and back up to grip your throat as he finally bottoms out inside of your tight heat. the wetness and warmth covering him is seeping out and down his tail to leave a lewd trail of combined juices he briefly admires the shimmer of before he's sliding himself out and roughly back in with a resounding slap. a high and needy sound escapes your throat as the tip of his cock taps your cervix and the rest of it rubs across your walls, eagerly taunting all of what's to come. the hand around your throat compresses your blood flow just enough to have your head feeling like it's full of cotton and your body even more pliant for his use. nails tilt your chin to have you make eye contact with the man currently deep in your guts, a glittering and dangerous grin spread across his face. with your eyes on his, knives begins pounding into you with earnest.
all of the sounds that leave you are high-pitched and warbled with unshed tears borne of the hand around your neck and stretch of your cunt. he's letting out strangled grunts and eager clicks at the grip of your wet pussy trying to milk him dry. his second cock his sliding against your clit and lower stomach with every harsh thrust he gives you, rubbing and pulling pleasurably. all of your nerve endings feel ablaze with the way he's using your body in a way that's filled with determination. his head drops down to make contact with your shoulder, his mouth sliding up your neck to replace his hand and add plentiful marks along the untouched skin; he figures an array of bruises will decorate it better than any necklace. dark indigo and rouge dappling the skin as blood comes to the surface, he's enamoured with how it looks tainting your flesh. both of his hands are now around your hips to hold you still for every pump of his cocks along and into your body, forcing you to take it all in full. you're crying with your back arched and chest forced to the ceiling as he continues his fast pace with teeth grazing your nipples. knives is biting numerous times across your tits, imprints of his fangs left in the wake akin to a path on a trail; he's oddly proud of his work. you're beyond your own body, desperate for him to bring you to a second high of the day, hips trying in vain to undilate against his own but his grip is too firm; his unnaturally strong. tongue flicking at your nipples, one cock deep in your guts, and the other beating against your clit, it's not long before you're babbling useless pleas for him to not stop. through choked sobs and moans, you're falling to pieces with his cock nestled deep inside of you. your brain is blank as lights splatter across your vision, eyes rolled to the back of your head and drool leaking from the corners of your mouth. still, his heavy rutting hasn't ceased. every limb of yours is twitching as sobs move past your lips without permission and your hands slide from his grip to claw uselessly at his back from overstimulation until knives is letting out an otherworldly growl as he sinks to the hilt one final time. you can feel the thick ropes of his seed coat your insides as his body curls around you protectively; a mating instinct maybe. he's grumbling lowly as an impossible amount of his spend leaks in and out of you with each twitch of his shaft.
you're still feeling a touch foggy when he pulls out, globs of shared slick pooling beneath you. knives is assessing your form critically, hands and eyes sliding over every bruise and bite left behind from his own roughness. it's almost sweet, how he seems to care for your well being despite his words claiming otherwise, and you simply allow yourself to enjoy the way he's fussing over you. once satisfied, he nods to himself and moves to scoop you up in his arms despite your small whines of protest but your indignation doesn't last long as he slithers you both over to your home, mumbling something about a shared bath; for purely experimental purposes, of course.
#cw: dubcon#trigun x reader#knives x reader#millions knives x reader#trigun maximum x reader#trigun stampede x reader#trigun 98 x reader#trigun smut#millions knives#trigun maximum#trigun stampede#trigun knives#trigun 98
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How Submissive or Dominant They are
Includes: Vash the Stampede, Nicholas D. Wolfwood, Meryl Stryfe, Million Knives, Livio, Legato, and Milly Thompson
warnings: nsfw minors dni, gn reader with a vagina, oral (m and f receiving), piv sex, nipple play, anal fingering, teasing, face sitting, thigh riding, bondage, pegging
Note: may have gone overboard but I hope this feeds the fellow Trigun fans!
Milly
• Milly is honestly the most vanilla and submissive of all of them.
• She’ll do whatever you like, letting you eat her out or her go down on you, but she wants to be told what do. She’s eager and loves making you happy however she can.
• Not the most adventurous, but if you really want to try something new, she’ll always try it at least once! Nothing too rough though, she’s overly wary of her size and strength and worries about hurting you.
• Overall a big sweetie teddy bear, she loves being with you and making you happy and having fun with you.
“Hey baby, you feeling up for another round?” She chirps from under your thighs, the movement making your overstimulated clit tingle. “I can eat you out again!”
“Milly I can’t do another,” you groan, but before a cute pout settles on her face, you slide down her body to her thighs. “But what if I eat you out and you play with your chest?”
A shy look goes across her face, but she quickly rearranged the pillows to lean back, looking down at you reclining between the soft pillows of her thighs. A big, somewhat sheepish smile spreads across her face as she cups her sizable chest, shifting a little as you look at how wet she is.
“Like this?” She asks, pinching nipples as you smirk at her proudly.
“Just like that pudding cup, just like that.”
—
Livio
• Also a big teddy bear, he’s also fairly vanilla.
• He’s been through a lot and is already a big softie, so when he’s not letting you take the lead and following your guidance, he’s the softest, cuddliest dom there is.
• He loves cuddle fucking, especially after rough days, and sometimes on those rough days he wants nothing more than to be your good boy and have you order him around. Be gentle though, he’s still a very sensitive guy.
• Top tier cuddle partner, prepare for lots of sleepy hugs and slow love making with him.
“Is this okay?” Livio’s deep voice rumbled against your chest, honey colored eyes blinking at you half-lidded from where he lay next to you, your chest covered in wet kisses.
“You’re doing wonderful,” you smile softly, stroking his soft hair, leaning forward to kiss him again.
“D’you wanna go further?” He asked softly, one of his large hands trailing down to knead your ass.
You nod as you slowly grind your bare pussy against his cock, feeling it twitch when your lips caught on the head. “Yes…can I just sit on you for a bit though?”
His cheeks flush at your question, and he slips inside you, getting little resistance after having fingered you for half an hour earlier. Keeping you flush against his hips, his eyelids hang heavier as he lets out a sigh. “Yea, jus’ please don’t move too much. ‘M so close already.”
—
Meryl
• Meryl is definitely a switch, and she’s not super kinky but she’s definitely not vanilla.
• She likes being a pillow princess and getting pampered, but she also loves being in charge. Just because she’s small doesn’t mean she can’t take charge and be damn good at it.
• She likes mild brat taking sometimes too, and does enjoy using big strap-ons on her partner, but she also just enjoys taking things slow and gentle. It depends on her mood and yours honestly, but most of the time she would like to stop thinking so much and let you lead.
• Meryl is a firecracker though, so she might get a little bratty with you too.
“Hold still a second Meryl,” you huffed, the the little vibrating end of strap-on you were wearing making you feel a little shaky. “Lemme catch my breath.”
Meryl huffed, but stayed still, the large size of the toy making her shiver. It was one of those days when Meryl asked to be treated, and she’d been dutifully laying still and letting you lead, but you could tell she was getting impatient.
“Just a minute more—hey!” You gasped suddenly, the toy pressing harder against your clit without warning. Looking up, you saw Meryl leaning on her hands, using all of her strength to propel herself forward onto the strap. “Meryl!”
“Sorry I just need,” she stopped to let out a drawn out moan as she pulled back and thrust herself forward again. “Need more. Now.”
Huffing, you leaned over to press her into the bed, watching her eyes go wide as you started thrusting into her, both of you moaning. “Alright, I’ll give you more~”
—
Vash
• If Meryl is a switch, then Vash is a super-switch.
• Vash loves pleasing you and topping, watching you come undone under him and seeing your pleasure-filled face makes him the happiest man alive. He may not always be the most confident in himself, but his determination to make you happy overrules his insecurities.
• Sometimes though, he likes just being your sweet boy, letting you collar him or spank his ass if you like. He likes a little teasing and sometimes edging, or just being doted on while you finger him if you want, just give lots of cuddles afterward.
• He’s pretty needy all around, a need to please, need for affection and needing to give and receive love all around, be sure to indulge him.
He looked angelic under you, flushed skin glistening with sweat and his expression pleading as he looked up at you with puppy eyes. You almost felt bad for making him wait. Almost.
“Shhh just wait a minute baby,” you cooed at him, petting his thigh lovingly. “Can you hold out just a second more?”
“Yes, yes,” he gasped, trying to stay still as you kept two fingers inside his hole, his mouth trembling as he looked at your glistening folds above him. “Anything for you I can do it. I can do it.”
You shushed him again gently, waiting for him to quiet down a bit before speaking. “It’s okay, you don’t have to wait much longer okay? That’s my good boy.”
You moved your fingers suddenly, making his awaiting face surge up to lay his open mouth on your folds, making you whine out at his intensity. It didn’t take long for you both to come hard, Vash pulling you down to kiss you reverently as you still shook from your orgasm.
—
Wolfwood
• Nicholas is a bit of a switch, but leaning more towards a dom. Either postion, he loves to tease.
• He just can’t help himself if he’s the one being more submissive, he’s gonna be a brat and might try to turn the tables on you. One minute he’ll be shaking his hips as you peg him, urging you to swat his behind, and the next he’s flipping you over to ride the strap like his life depends on it.
• When he doms, he still teases, but instead he’s edging you or manhandling you playfully while he’s saying absolutely sinful things in your ear. Sometimes he’ll even just make you do all the work while he smokes a cigar or sips some whiskey.
• He’s absolutely filthy when he wants to be, but also playful, and he’s pretty good at aftercare.
Wolfwood rotated his hips against yours, making your insides flutter as he held you in place. One of his hands gripped one of your thighs, while the other held your wrists above your head, preventing you from grabbing him like you wanted to.
“That feel good babe? The way you’re squeezing me sure makes me thinks so,” he smirked, a playful gleam in his eyes as he leaned down, his nose touching yours. “C’mon, tell me how it feels and I’ll get started, ‘kay?”
“You feel so good Nic,” you whined, unable to stop yourself as you squirmed under him. “Please move, I wanna touch you.”
That did the trick, as he released your wrists to instead cup your face in both hands, chuckling as your hands scrambled to grab him. “That wasn’t so hard, huh?” He smiled, groaning a bit when your palms passed over his nipples.
You were about to tease him, but he quickly started pumping into you, making you both moan. Your arms wrapped around his neck as he moved at a rough pace, his hands staying on your cheeks as he gave wet kisses.
—
Legato
• Legato isn’t really into letting someone else take the reins. When he does, he prefers it involving lots of praise.
• He can be pretty mean at times, degrading and teasing you when he doms, but he’s not always super rough. Don’t expect him to be super touchy feely though, he’s got some issues and that’s a lot to unpack.
• He gets a bit more agreeable if he’s subbing, he doesn’t want to be dominated per se, just given some orders and told he’s doing good for once. Actually if you praise him while he’s domming, he’ll still be smug and a bit rough, but you might notice him soften a little.
• Overall, don’t be rough on him if he gives you the opportunity to lead, but try to be soft to him when he’s in charge, and he’ll do the same.
“Look at you,” he looked you up and down as you lay there tied to the bed posts, making you whimper at his dark gaze. “You look so…”
He didn’t finish his sentence, opting to let out a huff instead, tracing a finger down your naked torso to the puffy lips of your cunt. He appraised you for a moment, running his gloved thumb over your folds before pulling his pants down to free his dick.
“Tell me what you want,” he ordered, giving his dick a few lazy pumps. You shivered at the sight of him, closing your eyes as you tried to clear your mind enough to respond. “Hurry and I might give it it you.”
“I want you, Legato.” You whined desperately. If your eyes had been open, you might have seen how his eyes widened and face softened at how your voice lingered on his name. A feeling he’d never felt before spreading in his chest before he refocused.
“Well since you asked so nicely,” he growled, pushing into you slowly, trying not to focus on the funny feeling blooming in him. “Let me indulge you.”
—
Knives
• He’s a full blown dom full stop.
• Maybe if you had been together a really long time and talked and planned it out very carefully, he might let you fuck him, but 99% of the time he’d only feel comfortable going as far as to let you lead him a little. He’s just a little scared to trust that much or give up being in control, he’s got some stuff he doesn’t wanna unpack.
• He enjoys being in charge, not just to get praise and have you treat him like a god (which he totally loves), but he likes watching you under him, especially to know you put so much trust in him, knowing how dangerous he is. He may get rough or be mean depending on your relationship, but he’d never hurt you.
• Sometimes what he likes doesn’t sound dominant to a lot of people, but he makes it work. He’s very bossy/commanding so you definitely can’t call him submissive that’s for sure.
“Suck harder.” He commands above you, his tone quiet but a little sharp, keeping you at attention as you bob your head on his cock.
You knew he was close from the way his brow furrowed, but you were still caught off guard when he came down your throat, barely giving you time to relax before his tentacles were lifting you up. You gasped as he sat you on one of his muscular thighs, keeping you facing away from him to stare at yourself in a full length mirror.
“I saw you rubbing your thighs together,” he hummed in your ear, gripping your hips. “If you want to come, you’ll come on my thigh.”
“Y-yes sir,” you panted as he moved you back and forth, your hips bucking at the friction of skin on skin. When he flexed his thigh, you nearly looked away, but he bit at your neck to get your attention.
“Come now pet,” he gave a small smile, enjoying at how you whined. “Eyes on me. Don’t look away.”
#trigun smut#trigun x reader#vash x reader#wolfwood x reader#million knives x reader#meryl stryfe x reader#legato x reader#livio x reader#Milly Thompson x reader#trigun stampede x reader#vash the stampede x reader#trigun 98#trigun maximum#vash smut#wolfwood smut#knives smut
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Requested by @lilabeeart Thank you for sending in a request! This was perfect for him, so glad you snatched it up. Hope you like it 💜🧡
Not many humans were deemed worthy to aid him in his grand plans. Despite his reservations towards your kind, he saw potential in you. Even though you were ultimately disposable like the others, there was a faint feeling which grew stronger with each passing day. This bothersome reaction towards you was far too distracting, forcing his mind to wander to how best to rid himself of these pesky thoughts of you.
CW: NSFW, MDNI, fem!reader, knife play, power dynamic, vaginal penetration
Cold to the touch (Knives)
There was an air about you, one which he couldn’t quite put his finger on. The cloud of mystery that swirled around you faintly dispersed with each step you took. They extended to him, as if luring him into your arms, and yet, there was nothing extraordinary about you—not really. You ate, slept, and breathed just like all the other parasitic humans littering this planet, so why? What was it about you that had his heart quickening and his palms sweaty?
His eyes held onto you for much longer than necessary. Their icy blue tint was enough to leave anyone with frostbite, but you remained resilient to his frigid demeanor. His gaze roamed over you, trying to gauge that pulse so delicately placed on your throat. It kept a steady pace, which only made his mind more restless.
He could kill you, right here, right now. Was there a death wish hanging over your head? Would that rain that dripped down from that cloud of threat he so wanted to impose wash you with common sense?
Humans were labeling him as a monster, and to an extent, he was. Few understood his vision and even fewer were willing to help him make it a reality. You saw him and his vision for what it was intended to be: a rebirthing of life, justice that had been so long overdue, a breath of fresh air.
With your back towards him, the light clicking of your fingers dancing along the keys was a symphony in its own right. His mind went back to that day you two first met. The fury you held towards those around you was intoxicating. You offered a dash of spice to an otherwise bland day, and it was that heat of your fiery passion that was still lingering on his tongue.
The light pats of his feet as he stalked behind you had no effect on you. You held no fear in your heart, and it was one of the most admirable things about you. No fear of death, no fear of pain, no fear of him—and he wanted you.
“Why am I feeling like this?” He asked cooly, yet a tinge of remorse for his repressed adoration for you was laced in it.
His fangs were out, even if he was hiding them behind a seemingly innocent question. Despite your steady pulse, you were anything less than comfortable around him. There were parts to him that you found endearing, but in a world where only the strong prevailed, you couldn’t allow yourself to fall into that spiked pit. No matter how much you tried to convince yourself you weren’t a risk taker, that plunge into the unknown seemed all too appealing sometimes.
“What exactly are you feeling?” The question held no judgment, merely a way to peek into his inner workings.
“I think you know all too well.” His eyes fell on you with a hint of grief for the death of his prior prejudices. A species he rued to destroy and yet you held significance to him.
As he stepped closer, your nimble fingers halted. Your focus was on him and him alone. Hesitantly, he parted your hair, so that the back of your neck was exposed. The goosebumps from the cool air were a delightful sight. He may not have the answers to the questions racking his brain, but at this moment, their clawing on the chalkboard stopped completely.
Leaning in, his eyes fluttered when the sweet scent of your perfume reached him. He ghosted the tip of his nose against your skin. Inhaling, he let out an involuntary groan. His hands traced the air around your waist and hips, his fingers dancing in anticipation at how you’d feel under his touch.
You refrained from saying anything. A part of you was worried that no matter what you said, it would scare him off, perhaps even strike a nerve that would mean your life. Although he wasn’t someone you could trust, you found yourself entranced by his deadly charm.
His hands pressed against your waist. The touch was inexperienced, timid, unsure of how to properly caress a woman’s curves. He gripped at your clothes, his fingers scraping against your flesh even through the fabric. Your body tensed. You wanted to show him how to love you. With slow hands, you placed them gently on his. The guidance you offered was one of his few moments when he was willing to be humbled.
Your hands on his, the warmth canceling out the cold felt like sinful bliss. His lips tentatively laid on your neck. As you showed him how you liked being touched, his movements became more confident. The kiss on your neck turned into a couple, then a few, until he was exploring the side of your neck freely.
Each movement grew rougher, more desperate, as this feeling that had been gnawing at him was finally being given the grace of day. The warmth of you was all too inviting. He hated how much he was enjoying it and how much more he wanted to touch. Your body shuddered slightly as his hands trailed between your thighs. A sharp inhale from you made his eyes open and pupils dilate.
So this is where you like it most? He thought to himself. He tossed aside his prior apprehension and drove his hands between them. The heat of your core was unlike anything before.
The way his fingers curled gave you that much needed friction. Your hips bucked slightly against his hand, eager for more. He held onto you tightly, letting you feel a preview of what was in store. The long tentacle-like extensions of him had begun twisting around you. He kept his eyes firmly locked on you. When your eyes opened at the sight of the knives dressing them, the glimmer of desire sparked something in him—something primal.
Those silver knives opened, their blades teasing you as they lightly caressed your delicate figure. Your chest rose and fell. That simulation of fear whetted his newfound appetite. In a swift movement, your top was slashed open. Your soft breasts practically busted through the rest of the rags left behind.
He grasped at the fabric covering your sweet core. Blades quickly tore it to shreds, leaving you gasping from shock. A faint tinge of fear encased your voice.
“I knew your screams would be beautiful.” He gave into his intrusive thoughts and nipped at your earlobe, while the tattered clothes fell to the floor.
When the knife infused tentacles wrapped around you, your body trembled. Their coiling around your legs and breasts started off gentle, but that was short lived. He forcefully spread your legs. A panicked gasp passed your lips, making you even riper for the picking.
Seeing you like this - bent over and rendered helpless - made him want to forget all of the inner turmoil that’d been haunting him. This attraction he had for you was only growing stronger. The cold metal blades pressed against your skin. A dull pain accompanied them but no blood was drawn.
“Tell me you want this.” The authority in his voice was faint, competing with the lust rising within.
“I-I want it,” you whimpered as the point of a blade ran along your wet folds.
He aligned his hips with yours, letting his cock tease your needy hole as the knives pressed against you. Goosebumps spread across your exposed flesh, causing you to shiver. You could feel his tip pressing into you, and your natural response was to tense up.
He pushed further, choking back groans at the new sensations washing over him. Your walls spasmed, tightening against him the further he went. He placed his hands on your hips and hushed your soft whimpers.
“Just relax.”
The more time you were given to adjust to him, the more your body welcomed his full length. You clawed at the table in a desperate attempt to hold on to something as his pace increased. Although irregular at first, his thrusts soon exuded confidence. Each moan of yours, each tremble of your body and thighs was having more of an effect on him than he could have ever imagined.
One of the tentacles wrapped around your throat and tugged you against him. A wanton cry escaped you as your body arched against him, forcing him deeper into your molten core. The cool metal of the knife grazed your cheek. Your eyes fluttered shut as you were pulled further into the darkness of your carnal urges.
The vines from the thick jungle of your primal lust tangled around you, hoisting you up in the air and exposing you to any predator that happened to see you. Knives spotted your vulnerable state and went in for the kill. Small beads of blood glistened against the sharp metal the more he took you—entirely lost in the abyss of this godforsaken jungle of lust and passion.
You huffed and panted from the threat of ecstasy reaching its limit. His hips slapping against you, slamming you into the edge of the desk was going to leave a mark on your pretty skin; and he reveled in the thought of it.
You couldn’t hold back any longer. The temptation was too great to resist its blissful end. Your sweet euphoric cries filled the room. A sound as lovely as that was the last thing he knew he needed from you, but in fact his body craved it more than anything at that moment.
In a strangled groan, he followed suit. Each doubt he had, the regret he was holding onto disappeared. He released every part of himself, he gave you everything he had, and you basked in it.
His grip loosened on you. The tentacles slithered down your weakened body and retracted completely. Now, it was just the two of you enjoying the afterglow of shared passion. He didn’t offer any kiss or hug, not even words of affection because he knew he shouldn’t allow himself to give you his heart. However, that didn’t stop it from racing whenever you were near here on after.
#kinktober 2024#x reader#trigun#trigun maximum#trigun stampede#trigun x reader#trigun x you#trigun knives#knives x reader#knives trigun#trigun smut
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here’s a sneak peek of what i contributed to the nsfw digital add-on for the zine. get it while you can 💒🚬
Vashwood Wedding Zine Link
@vweddingzine
#arsvnsart#vashwood#trigun stampede#tristamp#trigun headcanons#trigun smut#trigun hcs#trigun wolfwood#trimax#trigun maximum#trigun vash#vash fanart#vash the stampede#vash saverem#vash the humanoid typhoon#nicholas d wolfwood#wolfwood#digital art#ibispaint art#anime art#digital fanart#fan art
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i read a hc that nick is quiet by force of habit and…uhm uhhh…
#fanart#trans nsft#ns/fw#nicolas d wolfwood#trigun wolfwood#trans wolfwood#tristamp#trigun 98#trigun#trans ns/fw#trimax#trigun maximum#trigun stampede#trigun smut#vashwood#vash the stampede#trigun vash#trigun headcanons#uhhhhh
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Shepherd Story 2 (God!Knives x F!Reader)
Plot: In a world where fallen gods live among you, there is the god of winter and death who is also eternally bound to you with body and soul. The time has come for him to visit you again.
Series: Shepherd. Check out Story 1 and Story 3!
Pairing: God!Knives x F!Reader
Raiting: NSFW!! 18+!! R!! Explicit!! Minors DNI
Tags: fantasy!AU, god!AU, no use of "y/n", smut (I just got carried away in the beginning), established relationship, gods, feathery plant, fated love, romance, legends, nature magic, reunion, intimacy, possessive behavior, tenderness, some fluff, body worship, light bondage, vaginal fingering, oral f receiving, hand job, p in v sex
Word count: 4k
Author's Note: This is a continuation of Shepherd. This story is inspired by @triplesilverstar's god!AU. There isn't much lore here, but I already have ideas for a 3rd installment. This AU will rot my brain out.
The cycle is nearly complete again. The summer heat caressed your cheeks, and the trees took on a yellow hue. This body had not felt the heat of midsummer or seen the different colors of nature. Despite living in the south, the creeping winter lasting 50 years still left its mark. But you remember from all your past lives the changing seasons that seemed to last forever. You don't miss the sunny days or the shades of spring. You welcome the falling leaves and the chilly northern winds, for they are brought on by something more precious.
The song of your heart has gotten louder and louder as the weeks have passed, and the familiar restlessness of your ancient soul has been tugging you towards the dark forests surrounding your home. But you know there is no need to go; you are found, and the melody echoing from your chest will always guide him back to you without fault.
You look up from your workbench as the silent whine of ice forming touches your ears. He is here. The god of winter and death has arrived, greeting you with breathtaking bouquets of frosted flowers covering your windows. They glimmer in the last rays of daylight as you set aside your book and rise to meet him.
You open your front door into the frigid evening air. It is snowing again, just like last time, and once again, you see him approaching from the edge of the forest. This time he isn't frozen over, his beautiful feathery wings trailing behind him with soft rustling. His ice cold eyes are on you, but tonight they don't nail you to your spot with terror. In them, you recognize the hundreds of lifetimes you've lived, your love reaching back to times so old that even the stories from it have died.
"I've been waiting for you, Beloved," you say as you step off your doorstep onto the freezing pathway. The frost brought on by his presence melts under your bare feet, and it gets colder with every step you take towards him.
"I've been yearning for you, my love," he replies, his steely gaze looking through this mortal body of yours and only seeing the soul he fell in love with millennia ago. "I patiently waited for the day to lay my eyes on you once again."
"Come now; I have something of yours." You reach out your hand with a smile to invite him to take it. He closes the distance and traces his digits along the lines of your open palm. His cold touch chills the blood in your veins, but just for a moment. His fingers find the spaces between yours, intertwining effortlessly as if they were always meant to be there. With that, the markings covering his body light up with a dim blue light. The sight only lasts for a few seconds before the patterns disappear again.
"As always, I thank you, sweet Shepherd, for keeping it safe." His voice is quiet and soothing, painting images of snow covered meadows and peaceful forests in your mind. He presses your hand to the middle of his chest, where you feel his heart awakening. The beat hastens as he holds your gaze. "You consume me. I dream of you every hour of every day."
His fingers let go of yours to trace along your bare forearms. You don't even notice the cold anymore as his touch leaves burning trails in its wake. You lean in closer, unable to resist the pull of his soul.
"For tonight, I am not a mere dream. I am yours to hold, and we have a lot of time to make up for, darling." You reach out your free hand to touch his sharp jaw line and feel the warmth emanating from his skin. The god bows his head to you as his lips find yours. It fills you with euphoria, reaching into the farthest corners of your being. Your heart beats like a wardrum, echoing the sounds of times past. His arms wrap around you, pulling you flush against him as he leans you back. His kiss acting as a wordless prayer.
The snowflakes gently falling from the heavens land on your face like delicate touches, and the feeling of them melting on your skin lingers for long after they are gone. His stiff hands clutch tightly at your waist and lift you up from the ground. Your palms find balance on his broad shoulders. His sharp gaze looks up into your dumbfounded face as he carries you back to your cottage. A familiar feathery tendril slinks out from between his mass of wings and gently brushes against your cheek, drying up the wetness left there by the thawing snow. You lift one arm from his body to touch the tendril and let it slip through your fingers.
He sets you down as he reaches the doorway and lets you guide him inside, where his presence fills the small room with shadows. The door can barely shut behind him as you feel more soft touches trail along your skin. You recognize them as the slim helping limbs, and you feel two of them trying to slink their way under your blouse. His large hands land on your hips as you feel him press against your back. He leans down and whispers in your ear, "You fill me with desire and make me lose my mind. I am nothing more than a pathetic and weak man in your presence. My thoughts focused on every way to please you. I crave your touch and long for the warmth of your body."
His hands travel around you, pushing the thin fabric of your top with them, baring your skin around your waist. You feel the contour of his muscles against you and the warmth of his cheek pressing into yours. His fingers start to undo the buttons as a hand slithers underneath to dance along your bare skin.
"I come like a rabid dog to your doorstep, a starved animal desperate for the smallest particle of your affection. I come with my teeth bared and my chest full of longing. You have me crawling in desperate devotion for you." His voice cuts like a knife into your hazing thoughts.
"You're a god," you remind him as he opens the front of your blouse.
"And I am powerless in your glory." His hot breath touches your skin at the base of your neck, and his lips trail down your shoulder.
Both of his hands travel along your figure, exploring every curve and crevice with hunger. A few of his tendrils sneak under your skirts, caressing along your legs up to your thighs. Your hands cover his as his long fingers press into the supple flesh of your breasts. The creeping feathers lick over the hot core between your legs. Your breathing gets heavier as his hands get rougher, and his kisses are replaced by sharp teeth trailing over your skin. A shiver runs along your spine as he makes his way up your neck.
He whispers into your ear as the tip of his nose digs into your helix. "Will you allow me to be reminded of your sweetness? So it can turn to bitter longing when we are apart?"
You swallow hard, and he doesn't wait for your response. He turns you around, and his lips find yours in a searing kiss. His hands push off the garment, still trapping your arms, and the tendrils pull down your underwear. He guides you backwards, and you can only take a few strides across the little room until the edge of your workbench digs into the back of your thighs. He effortlessly lifts you onto the edge and settles between your legs. His fingers frame your face as he kisses you deeply, his tongue exploring every corner of your mouth. Your hands travel along his body to undo the clasp of his robe on his shoulder and let it fall between your bodies. Your fingers trail down his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your touch. As he leans in closer, his breath hot against your neck, you feel a shiver run down your spine. The anticipation builds as he whispers his desires in your ear, sending a hot wave into our belly.
Your arms reach around him, and your digits find where the wings meet his back. Your fingers are grabbing onto the mighty and soft bases as his kisses move along your neck, leaving you softly moaning as his hands caress you. Some of his tendrils have moved on to peel back the layers of your skirts, carefully bunching them up onto your lap and holding them there. The god's tender hand runs along your thigh, and two more tendrils appear to weave around your ankles and calves. His touch moves closer to the heat emanating from your longing sex.
The little helping limbs pull your legs apart for him to run his thumb along your wet slit. His fingers expertly tease your folds. With each gentle stroke, you feel yourself surrendering to the pleasure he effortlessly evokes. More tendrils appear that wrap themselves tenderly around your form. They hold you securely in place as the god's touch becomes more intense, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You can't help but arch your back and moan softly as he continues. His lips move down from your collarbone and skip over the tendril making its way to your neck. He focuses on the space between your breasts before picking one and lapping at the hardening bud in the center. The feathers tickle you gently and help to keep you up as his looming form forces you backward. A finger presses its way through your entrance, and the juices gush onto his hand. The god groans against your skin, and you can feel the vibration all throughout your body. His digit is quickly followed by a second one as they start to stretch and explore your inner walls, seeking out every sensitive spot within you. The sensation of his fingers moving inside you, combined with the soft feathers caressing your skin, sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body, leaving you breathless and wanting more. His kisses move down along your sternum, and two tendrils make you release the wings on his back that you had held on to with all your might. Finally free from your grip, he can lower himself to the floor. He looks up at you from between your legs before turning to brush his lips along your inner thigh.
His mouth finds its way to your throbbing clit, his tongue flicking and circling with precision. The sensation is overwhelming, pushing you closer to the edge of ecstasy. The tendrils tighten their grip further as your body jerks, and your belly contracts in anticipation. His tongue buries into your folds as he laps up your desire for him. Strangled cries and whimpers escape your throat as he keeps you teetering on the edge of climax, prolonging the exquisite torture. The little feathery limbs around your wrists let go to allow you to lace your fingers into his pale blonde hair and pull on it. The fingers of his free hand dig into your hip with enough fierceness to leave marks. The other hand pumps into you with curled digits. With a final flick of his tongue, you shatter into a million pieces, your body convulsing with pleasure as you ride the waves of climax.
He doesn't stop yet, his tongue replacing the fingers he pulled from you, drinking up every spilled drop like a dying man presented with the fountain of immortality. Both his hands hold on to your hips, pulling you closer as you slowly come down from the initial high, but his actions still cloud your mind with pleasure.
His face pulls away from you, and you get to see his adoring eyes look up at you. This gaze is yours alone; no other soul is privy to it. His one. His only. Despite the soft nature of his expression, his lips aren't graced with a smile; an iciness fit for the god of winter lingers there. You know this face too well; it's nothing more than a mask, trying to hide his inpatient intentions. As he rises up to stand before you, the distance grows enough for you to bask in the glory of his form. You see the sparse little feathers growing by the collarbones, his wide and muscular chest, now bare for you since his flowy white robe hangs from his hips. Yet the layers of fabric are not able to hide his desire for you.
As he steps closer, he relieves his body from the garment and lifts you up from the wooden surface with the tendrils to remove your skirts leaving you as naked as the day you were born. He presses himself between your legs as he lowers you down again and you wrap yourself around him, your feet locking together on his ass. His cheek presses against yours, his warm breath tickling your neck as his hands stroke your sides. You enjoy his closeness, and the slight tickling makes you look down. You feel his hard length press against you, but as you look, you see the tip poke out between your bellies. It leaves a wet spot on your skin. You scoot your ass back enough to fit your hand between your bodies.
You touch your own dripping sex first, collecting some of the slick on your digits before capturing his shaft and starting to run your palm along the length of it before wrapping your fingers around it. You continue to stroke him firmly, feeling him twitch in your hand. With every pass, your thumb strokes over the tip, and his heavy breath caresses your ear as silent moans threaten to escape him. Your other hand holds on to his hair as you continue your steady pace. He arches his back and lets out a low groan of pleasure as you twist your hand around him, and the sound turns into a growl as he nips at your ear. You know he is at his wit's end, unable to control himself any longer. You release the vice like grip of your legs, and he knows to lean back. You run his sensitive tip through your folds before lining him up at your entrance. You are dripping in anticipation, and he can slowly sink into your heat as the walls clamp down around him. You let out a soft moan as he fills you completely.
His hips start to move in shallow thrusts as your fingers grip his hair and feathers. His panting lips move to your throat, forcing your head back, but the pleasure is too much to keep your eyes open anyway. You let yourself enjoy the overwhelming sensation. He grinds himself to the bottom of your well, hitting that spot inside you that makes you tighten your legs around him. You feel the tendrils around you come to life again with new vigor as they strangle your torso and opening your legs wider for him. You are too bound by him to do much of anything except moan with overwhelming pleasure towards the heavens. You are completely lost in the moment, surrendering yourself to his every touch. Your mind is consumed with desire, and your body aches for more.
As if sensing your despair, he increases the intensity of his movements—no longer shallow thrusts but deep, powerful strokes that send waves of delight through every fiber of your being. His teeth graze your skin as his lips move hungrily against the skin of your neck. He relishes the vibrations escaping your throat, his hands grabbing you tight and pulling you closer to him.
You quiver around him as your body tightens in pleasure, every nerve ending on fire with lust. His pace has turned into a frantic pounding as he drives deep into you. The small room is filled with a symphony of your voices, moaning in unison to the building crescendo of ecstasy.
The coil that has been tightening with every thrust of your lover finally releases, sending you over the edge into a state of pure bliss. You call out his name as your body convulses around him, tripping him too over the verge of climax. He fills you with warmth as your pulsing milks him. You feel yourself spilling over as your hands release their tight grip on him. You go boneless as the last of the intense pleasure washes over and retreats. You are kept up by his strong arms and tendrils wrapped around you. His lips move down to your chest, where he leaves more of his burning kisses as you still feel him panting against your skin. You are so entangled in him, you aren't sure where he ends and you start.
The tendril that has been around your neck like a necklace slithers away and is replaced by the god of death's long fingers. He squeezes just enough to slightly restrict your airway, making your heavy breath hitch in your throat. He kisses the edge of your jaw, and you turn your burning gaze on him. What you wouldn't give to crawl out of this mortal body and return to the time where you had no need for it. You curse the gods who turned you this way, forcing the two of you to hold back every step of the way. Your love transcends the limitations set by this meek form. You don't want him to be vigilant about your weak body; you want the love you make to thunder across the land with the strength of a thousand storms. You want him to stay. Yet he will bring death even to you if he lingers too long. You grab hold of his chin and move his lips to yours so your tongue can taste the sweetness of his mouth. A groan escapes him as his other hand pulls on your lower back, pressing you even closer to him. You are left gasping and desperate for more.
His fingers release you again, and he grabs hold of your hips. There is no chance of you sliding away from his grasp, as he holds you both with his strong arms and the tendrils woven around you. He picks you up from the workbench and heads to where he knows your bed to be. You can still feel him inside you, as he never pulled away far enough from your body to break that bond. As he steps into the shimmering moonlight, he stops. Long shadows are painted on his skin, and his pale blue eyes glimmer, reminding you of ice crystals, making him appear otherworldly.
"My gorgeous nymph, beautiful as the day I first saw you," he whispers, his voice sending shivers down your spine. You know his calm demeanor hides a raging fire just beneath the surface. You know you are the moth to his flame, and you cannot resist being drawn closer to him, even though you know it will eventually consume you.
"My Beloved." You whisper back, your hands cradling his face.
He doesn't linger by the window any longer but continues onward to your bed. He turns and stretches out his enormous wings before sitting down and situating you on his lap, your legs kneeling to either side of his thighs as you are spread out for him again.
He looks up at your face, the ancient fire you share burning in both of your gazes. The storming of your soul against the confines of your human body is a tempest, spilling over into his soul.
"I want to lay waist to their domain, to set fire to their realm, where they look down upon us, until their marble stairs melt away. I want to make them grovel and beg for forgiveness at your feet for the shackles they have placed upon you. Let me seek justice the only way I know how. Tell me to go to war, Shepherd!"
"You will lose without your heart, and I refuse to give it back," you say with a tone that won't allow him to argue. Instead, you put your hands on his shoulders and grind your hips into his lap.
You feel his breath shudder for a moment before his hands run up your body, cupping your breasts as you lean back. The need grows again, fed by the flames of your love, as you roll your hips against his, feeling the heat between you intensify. His lips find yours, and you lose yourself in the passion of the moment. You feel him hardening inside you again, aching for more. His fingers dance over your sensitive skin as the tendrils retreat, and he gives you full control over your body again. Your movements grow bolder as he swells inside you. Soon enough, you find yourself feverishly riding him, unable to hold back any longer. He uses the tendrils to move the both of you further onto the bed without disturbing your bouncing. You force him onto his back as you continue to rock your hips against his with a passion that consumes you both. Any attempt to prolong the moment is futile, as the sight of him relishing in your beauty is intoxicating. His fingers dig into your thighs as he starts to buck up into you with an urgency that matches your own. A tendril pushes against the tender bundle of nerves to brush against it. There is time for tenderness later. For now, you are a wildebeest in heat, desperate for his touch and his seed. You are lost in the moment, consumed by the age-old desire between you.
As your bodies move in perfect synchronization, the world around you fades away, leaving only the two of you in a whirlwind of passion. The intensity builds until it reaches its peak, leaving you breathless and completely enraptured by him. As you collide into him, he pulls you in for a breathless and passionate kiss that leaves you wanting more. He wraps you in his wings as he turns and pins you underneath him. The god still looks ravenous as he pulls away from you and continues to grind his hips against yours. He kisses the deepest part of you, and it makes you whine out his name until you're begging for him to never stop.
Chasing one release after the other, you are soon spent, your body exhausted and limp, yet your soul begs him to keep going. The night goes by with him mapping your body with his blazing lips and exploring every inch of your skin with his fingertips, leaving you breathless and thinking you might die in the arms of the god of winter and death.
As the sun begins to kiss the tops of the trees, you find yourself tangled in his embrace, feeling a sense of completeness and contentment. You know the time has come again for him to leave your side, but for a little bit, the yearning in the pit of your stomach has found its fill. You know you will see him again as another cycle of nature reaches its end, and until then, you have a job to do.
The bittersweet goodbye stings your heart as his lips linger on yours for longer than they need, his fingers gripping your waist tightly, a rigidity in his body betraying the calm facade he's trying to maintain. As he pulls away, your loving gaze meets his stern eyes. Your thumb trails over the beauty mark on his cheek, a moment of silent understanding passing between you. You know he has no desire to leave, yet he must rip himself from the beautiful dream that is your embrace.
"I will wait for you, my darling," you whisper into his ear before placing a last kiss on his cheek.
"And I will return to you, forever and always," he promises before turning away from you with sorrow in his eyes. "Keep it safe for me, sweetling."
Check out Story 1 and Story 3!
"Foolish man, that's why I don't give it back." You chuckle lightly and watch him silently walk across the frosted yard to disappear before daylight floods his path.
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〔 𝐀 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘, 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐁𝐎𝐘 〕𓂃 ⟡
subtop!vash x reader
cw: AFTERCARE ONLY, still NSFW
a/n: i gotta be honest i pulled this out of my ass
“i-i can’t! nono no more plea-please! please please please—“ vash gasps out, shaky hands gripping the pillow under his head. watery, translucent cum dripping down the twitching, red tip of his dick, overstimulated and sensitive. he couldn’t even remember how many times you’ve made him cum, it was too many to count.
“shh shh baby, we’re all done now, okay?” you soothe him. you reach to the night stand and grab the towel you placed there many hours ago.
“d-done? we— we’re done n-now?” vash peels his eyes open, tears glistening on his eyelashes. you watch as he tries to lift his head, just barely getting a few centimeters before he gives up. you move down and spread his legs, careful and slow, yet he winces and whines. taking the towel between your fingers, you wipe up the slick mess.
“mhm, we’re done now.” you repeat, hands soothing over his inner thighs as you carefully clean him up. somewhere in his fuzzy mind, vash registers your words and his tight hold on the pillow releases, fingers twitching and sore.
“mmgghf…” vash groans in relief as you finally let him come down. chest rising and falling slower, the throb in his core coming to a stop. you smile to yourself and clean around his softening dick, gentle brushes of the towel on his sensitive skin. and yet he lets out soft mewls in protest, hips trying to wiggle away from your motions.
“i know i know, it’s okay…” you coo softly, pushing his thighs closed and moving up to his chest, wiping the sweat there. eyes focused on his face as your hands work: his eyebrows slightly furrowed and pink lips parted as he breathes. leaning closer, you wipe the drool off his chin and tears off his delicate eyes.
“that was a lot wasn’t it?” you smile softly and lay against his side, heated skin meeting heated skin. you reach up, over his chest and brush the blond hair out of his face. still a little fuzzy, vash nods as he nuzzles into your touch. straining his body, he turns over and faces you, asking for more.
“mh… ‘m a good boy?” he mumbles, eyes blearily opening, a soft pout taking place on his lips. and the way he looks at you with such hope and dependency makes your heart flutter.
you cup his face and pull him in, pressing your forehead against his. “you’re a very, very good boy,” you say, and vash keens with happiness. soft little whines emitting from his throat as he presses closer to you, your touch his lifeline.
when he finally settles in, you begin to caress his face, soft strokes with your thumb across his cheek. vash responds with reaching up to gently grasp your wrists, content with keeping you there.
“you did such a good job for me.” you praise vash again, watching as his bright eyes flutter open. sparkling softly as he looks at you with such love and trust like you had just fulfilled something in him. vash leans in, brushing his nose against yours, breathing slowly.
“mm kiss…?” vash whispers, his lips turning up in a small smile. his limp hands trying to pull you closer, you easily comply. a smile of your own appearing before you close the space and connect your lips to his. pressing gently into him like he’d shatter, you kiss him slowly. lips moving in sync as vash hums softly in satisfaction.
he pulls away for half of a second before he presses himself into your chest, arms wrapping warmly. around your body. vash sighs contently, finding comfort in your bare skin against his after hours of not being able to touch you. sure you were demanding and rough, but it was exactly how he wanted you to handle him. and of course he knew you would take care of him after, gentle touches and sweet kisses your good boy.
#h5llpyre#tristamp smut#vash smut#vash the stampede#trigun#trigun smut#trigun maximum#trigun stampede#trigun stampede smut#vash x reader#vash x you#vash fluff#vash x y/n
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↳ 𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐆𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 — millions knives
boxer!knives, BLOOD, slight violence, slightly suggestive ngl
idk anything about boxing sorry i just think knives is hot
even from inside of the clinic, you hear the shouts and cheers of his name, a constant chant of ‘knives! knives! knives!” you couldn’t help but smile to yourself knowing that your boyfriend’s match started not even ten minutes ago and he already claimed the victory in three rounds.
shuffling around the other boxers in the clinic, you look for a clean towel for when knives comes in. he always does this: before and after every match he comes in to see you, the nurse of the arena, whether or not he has injuries. and sometimes he comes in pretending like his wrist or shoulder hurts, when in reality, he would never let anyone wear him out that bad.
the door swings open, practically slamming against the wall as knives stands in the door way. his face serious and brooding as he looks down at everyone in the clinic. there’s sweat running down in rivulets over the smooth skin of his chest, dripping from his platinum blonde hair. a patch of crimson blood on his right glove, a clear sign of his finishing blow, a clear sign of his victory.
“everyone out.” knives demands with a straight face while shifting on his feet, opening a space for them to leave through the door.
and immediately everyone, both nurses and other boxers, leave with their heads down, knowing they’ve been denied to help with wounds or they’ve been knocked out once or twice by knives himself. he didn’t want them around and that was final.
knives shuts and locks the door behind the last of them as they leave. you lean back against the counter as you watch him silently walk in and sit up on the examination table like a child at their doctors appointment.
“you can’t keep on hogging the clinic like this, you know.” you huff and walk over to his side with a towel. knives pointedly looks at you, his eyebrows furrowed.
“yes i can,” he angrily replies and begins to rip the velcro away on his gloves, shucking them off and throwing them to the side, smearing blood on the table. “this is my clinic.”
“oh yea? how’s that?” you smile amusedly, unfazed by his tone. you step into his vicinity, gently parting his knees with your hips and raising the soft towel up to his face. knives’ eyebrows raise slightly at your actions; nevertheless, he closes his eyes and lets you press the cloth against his forehead.
“because this is your clinic, and you’re mine.” he says simply, his tone slightly more gentle yet possessive.
you smile and nod absentmindedly at his words, softly dabbing at the blood by his temple. even though you nag him about kicking people out of the clinic, you can’t help but enjoy the quiet time you spend with him.
with you it’s always different from how knives acts in the ring. he always spits insults mid-fight and he sometimes continues the shit talking outside of the ring after the match ends. he’s a little unhinged in the way that he acts around the other boxers: arrogant, violent, and mean.
but with you, knives’ demeanor tames like pouring cool water over hot embers. he can’t help the way it fizzles out when you touch him or look at him. sometimes he feels himself switch when he’s with you, like he becomes someone entirely different. the same hands that leave others bruised and bloody are the same ones that reach up and gently wrap around your wrist, stopping your motions so he can lean in.
“wha- hey! i just started!” you exclaim as he begins to pull your hand away. you try and tug your arm out of his grasp when you notice blood continuing the drip from his cace. even as you try to remove yourself from his hold, he easily keeps you still.
“shh…” knives coos, his other hand reaching up to grab your face. his warm fingers gently squeezing your cheeks together, forcing you to pucker up for him.
you squeak as he connects his lips to yours, its firm and demanding the way he presses and pulls against you. squeezing a little more when he wants you to part your lips, taking what he wants, leaving you breathless. you can taste him in the back of your mouth when he finally lets you go.
you’re panting, using the same towel to wipe the of drool off your chin and quite frankly you don’t know if it’s yours or his.
“nai you fucker-“
“it’s my clinic, i control what happens inside of it.” knives says like it’s the simplest thing ever. his eyes flutter shut, waiting for you to resume cleaning him up like he didn’t just shove his tongue down your throat.
sure he was soft for you, but that didn’t mean he had to get rid of his arrogant self entirely.
you curse under your breath, yet you shakily bring the towel back up and dab the sweat dripping down his neck as he grins with his eyes closed.
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