#vash x reader fanfiction
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Trigun stampede vash
#trigun#trigun stampede#trigun maximum#vash saverem#anime 2024#artists on tumblr#nicholas d wolfwood#trigun spoilers#trigun fanart#tristamp#trigun fanfiction#trigun fandom#vash stampede#vash x reader#trigun 98#trigun vash#vash fanart#vash the stampede#tiktok#edit#blog
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THE RESULTS ARE IN!
Thank you so much for your participation and your opinions! You all have helped me greatly!
I've made my decision: I will throw in parts that I like/love of both versions and make an amazing chimera of a story!
I will have to do research in order to write this (look up wiki stuff, watch clips if not episodes, etc.), so it'll be a while til something comes up.
I will post them on AO3 and provide links to each chapter here when available.
So stay tuned!
So...I was playing around with character.ai with a Vash bot and it ended up being a full-blown story. It was so good that I've decided to write it. There's just one problem... I don't know whether to do it with 2023 Trigun or 1998 Trigun. I prefer the story of 2023 and I love Vash's look in it but I prefer Vash's personality in 1998. So, I decided to do a poll.
#trigun 2023#trigun 1998#vash the stampede#trigun fanfic#trigun stampede#trigun#vash the stampede x oc#trigun x oc#vash the stampede x reader#trigun x reader#nicholas d. wolfwood#meryl stryfe#milly thompson#million knives#trigun wolfwood#trigun meryl#trigun milly#trigun million knives#trigun oc#oc fanfiction#trigun x oc fanfiction#vash x reader#vash x oc#vash x oc fanfiction#vash x reader fanfiction
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COLD CLOUDS.
cws ✦ fem!reader,yandere!vash, yandere themes, highly dub-con, dead dove, dark content.
syn ✦ Vash was just jealous. Yeah. . . Yeah, that's what Nai told himself when he saw you in his brother's arms.
✦ redirect to blog navigation.
Nai was always better than Vash, be it sports or academics. Although a sliver, Vash always felt that deep in his bones when everybody surrounded him to celebrate the victory, even after petty practice matches. Nai never admitted that in front of his beloved brother, he always brushed it off as an ordinary feat that anyone could achieve if they tried hard enough: he never wanted to admit his abilities; he never could. Why? Because it would break apart his brother's heart into pieces and in the life Nai has lived so far, he can wholeheartedly agree that it is not a good sight to behold or be a part of.
But there was one problem with Nai. He was not the good kind to have as a company. Everyone had come to know about it as time passed. He had an inducing effect on anyone and could coax people into doing things— sometimes good, sometimes bad, and sometimes vile awful things. He had that puppy charm in him whenever he walked, talked, or simply breathed. It was irresistible for everyone. So, in that regard at least Vash was ahead of him, better than him, and maybe, just maybe you would choose him because after spending most of your time with Nai. He was sure that you would scoop him out of your life. Plus, no one sticks around him for a long time. That is why he always had so many friends. He is not a good influence after all. Why you ask? Well, because Vash can see it like a movie. How Nai will never realize how you feel about him and that will get your heart torn apart. It would be so classic of his brother.
Life turned upside down for all three of you at the advent of last semester, especially for Vash. You chose Nai as your roommate instead of Vash. He would sit at the edge of the bed, or just on the floor and watch you greet Nai with a soft peck on his lips. Even with the dorm rooms being separate you never felt that way. Vash always had full access to the room you shared with Nai. After a month or two he even got a key to your room. Not that you minded. You never minded his presence. He was warm and harmless quite the polar opposite fo his brother. With him around, the study sessions were fruitful, whereas with Nai, things were way out of hand at times. He always ended up demanding several varied quickies after finishing each assignment. Why ? because you were irresistible to him.
And Vash would agree with that even though they always lock horns on trivial things. While Nai just needed an excuse to make it too big for Vash to stay a little longer in your room Vash would chuckle embarrassingly and leave because you never interjected to save him rather than just shift your short-lived attention onto him. He sure talked back but not too much whenever you were around. It would make him miserable. You never tried to save him from Nai or had any slightest intent to act as his shield occasionally. If not for him, you could have done that for Nai. It’s not healthy for him to get angry on pesky little things. Besides, you love him, don’t you?
Vash knew what would tick Nai off and what would not. So, sometimes he would purposefully get Nai jittery just so he could have your eyes on him. The way he felt for you has always been dormant, at least he tried to keep it that way until he started to hear your moans late at night. It drove him insane with want so robust that he started to hate himself. Why didn’t you choose him? Should he change his hair? Is that the thing that sets him apart from his brother? It couldn’t be only just the one-inch difference in all sorts of things.
At the farewell party, things got way more haywire.
It was Nai who suggested the idea, that you two could stay in the dorm to celebrate intimately, aloof from the curious crowd. When Vash could not find you or Nai anywhere. He had to stand in front of every locked door to check if you two were busy fucking each other and went straight to your room after thorough checking, even upstairs.
As he opened the door with the help of a key, Vash saw you lying on the bed. Half of your torso was covered with a bedsheet while your bare back was in full display. With your eyes closed he assumed you were asleep. He could hear Nai humming in the shower and man! He gets loud at times when he does that. God he must have fucked you and fucked you good because you are sleeping.
Vash gets under the covers letting his forelimbs envelop your warm body waking you up a little. “God. you’re insatiable Nai.” You coo as you feel rough hands grabbing your boobs and squeezing them. His lips rest on the nook of your head and shoulders as he inhales your scent in an elongated intake of breath. God! Aren't’ you divine?
“Umm-hmmm.”
You are still so wet, even your pussy is so sloppy and warm from being freshly fucked that he had no issue sliding his throbbing cock inside you. The way you arched suggested against his cock suggests how you were ready for more as he started to rut in rough calculated full thrusts — pulling out his whole cock out of your pussy, barely letting his cock-head stay inside and plunging it inside you with full strength. You are getting louder and that’s good. Does Nai always leave you unsatisfied like this? God, he would take such good care of you if only you were his.
“Why did you put on clothes, Nai?” You ask as you place your palms on his, interlacing his fingers with his since he was squeezing way too hard on your boobs. Vash does not respond but rather keeps rutting into you till it makes you let out a weak whimper of agony. Nai has never been this rough with you. You turn your head ever so slightly and the crescent vision of one side of a familiar pair of round glass had your mouth hug open in distraught.
But Vash was faster than you. His hand covered your mouth keeping you from screaming. He could feel the desperation and terror in your trail of whimpering voice but it was too palpable to turn him on so he quickened his pace.
The sound of the shower ceases so does the light of the bathroom after a few seconds. When Nai comes out of the bathroom, freshly cleaned and naked, Vash locks eyes with his brother. Nai stands like a statue as he sees your pussy clenching around his brother's cock who is half stood on his knees with your back pressed against his chest. One hand around your chin and the other around your stomach as he straightens himself stretching your naked body a little further. One strong pull and you would not be so lively anymore. Nai would just lose it all and he would love to see that. A grin broke like a plague upon Vash’s face as he cums inside of you in an instant as you rake away your eyes from Nai unable to comprehend why isn't he doing anything? why is he just standing there? And then, for the first time Vash came to know that the fruit of jealousy could be sweet too when you put your lips on his as Nai watched from afar.
tags.
networks | @interstellar-inn @the-all-stars-network @houseofsolisoccasum @pixelcafe-network @underratedcharactercorner
mutuals | @kentocalls @theoxenfree
#vash x reader#vash smut#vash x you#trigun stampede x reader#trigun stampede smut#trigun x reader#trigun x you#trigun smut#nai x reader#nai x you#nai smut#nai trigun#yandere smut#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere x darling#yandere x y/n#yandere x female reader#yandere#yandere fic#yandere fanfiction#cw yandere#cw dubcon#cw dead dove#trigun fanfiction#trigun fic#vash the stampede x reader#vash the stampede x you#knives x reader#millions knives x reader
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I think reading “ rosy cheeks “ is worse than “red cheeks"
#jjk x reader#aot x reader#one piece x reader#reader inserts#gojo x reader#eren x reader#bnha x reader#kny x reader#fanfic#uzui tengen x reader#zoro x reader#jjk x black reader#fanfiction#black!reader#bllk x reader#haikyuu x reader#miguel o’hara x reader#black reader#kenji sato x reader#vash x reader
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Traveling Buddies ٩(๑❛ᴗ❛๑)۶ (Vash x fem reader)
Warnings: Monsterfucking :3, inhuman vash, loving sex ngl like making love…, biting (briefly), NOT MUCH ITS A SOFT ONE LET ME KNOW IF U WANT A ROUGH VER :3, made with 1998 vash in mind but really can be read as either!!
—————
Going along with Vash after that one night. You never brought up how inhuman he looked that night, and you felt he almost appreciated it. When all was said and done you were laid out next him, panting like a dog.
When your vision had cleared, the man laying next to you was the same he looked when he brought you to this rundown inn. The next morning when you woke up, you stared wide eyed as you watched him pack his own stuff and yours as well.
You maybe vaguely remember a conversation along the lines of “wanna follow you everywhere Mayfly, wanna bring you with me” as he pounded you so hard you were walking with a limp.
And then next you knew you were out in the deserts of No Man’s Land, riding along with Vash and digging through a sack to give him a donut as he rode. Looking off into the distance as you continue along the path set by Vash. He seemed to know where he was going. On the breaks where you would stretch your legs and drink water in the heat were marked with a soft peck on the lips from Vash. Sharing the canister of water and a small meal that wasn’t very good. The end of the break was always signified with a deeper kiss from Vash where you felt a familiar inhuman rumble deep from his chest.
Coming to the next town was a multiple day venture, leaving you tired and worn out. Sighing in relief when you were able to eat a full meal and wash up.
Settling into the inn’s bed and ignoring the kisses you feel at your neck for a moment before eventually allowing Vash to move his kisses down to your chest. Letting him suck at your nipples as he purrs softly.
He was more open with his inhuman nature this time. Glowing before your eyes get blurry. Working you open on his fingers and letting you see his cock, that seemed to sprout from a…flower of sorts? You couldn’t bring yourself to think about that much. Watching as a tapered and ridged, and almost bioluminescent blue, entered you slowly. Listening to Vash whine in a double toned vocal. You finally get to see the exact ridge that rubs against your clit on his harsher thrusts.
Feathered wings encapsulate you both, leaving you unable to see other than the faintest glow from inside of you where you are both connected and the glow from Vash and his skin all over.
“Mayfly…” Vash groans in your ear “love you, need you so bad. Gonna make me a good man…” He sighs, loud clicks coming from him that you can now identify as a sound of pleasure. He wasnt human, there was no way you were making things up in your head.
He was too fast with his thrusts, bumps that you can feel the whole time as your thighs tighten around him and you claw the only human flesh you feel on his shoulder as you silently scream. Vash rubbing small circles on your clit as you come undone with him, listening to the trill and buzz that comes from him take over your mind again like nights prior. Whining when his teeth sink into your shoulder possessively.
Laying with him and his unusually cold body, wings craddling you both in tight together as clawed fingers run up and down your side. Humming and purring like an engine as he traces your face and leaves kisses all over you.
#requests open#send asks#fanfic#trigun 1998#trigun smut#trigun fanfiction#trigun#vash smut#trimax vash#vash the humanoid typhoon#vash x reader#alien vash#inhuman vash#vash the stampede#trigun vash#smut fanfiction#pls interact
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Do you have relationship headcannons for switz?
yas i do. i wasn't sure if you want platonic relationship or romantic relationship hcs so i did both! everyone say thank you yawujin 🗣
{ request } switzerland relationship headcanons 💭︎₊˚⊹
type | romantic relationship , platonic relationship , switzerland losing the idgaf war , cute , light hearted , short read , they/you pronouns used
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friendship ♥︎
he's that type of friend that lets you vent for like two seconds before instantly coming up with solutions on how to solve your problems
if you need a gym buddy, go to him and he will agree instantly. he's also a really good option for a gym buddy because he'll help you get a good form on any exercise you do, especially if you're a newbie to working out (been there, done that)
he prefers to hang out with friends earlier in the day rather than at night. he's also a one on one type of friend, so when you do hang out it will just be you and him. he likes taking early morning walks plus coffee or tea, and then brunch at noon.
if it's a holiday, or your birthday, he'll get you nothing more than a box of gourmet chocolate and a card.
relationship ♥︎
makes sure his partner eats well. he doesn't take the "oh all i had to eat today was an iced coffee 🤪" excuse (guiltyyyy) even if it's a smaller meal, he wants to see that they had something to eat/drink
there is nothing that makes him happier than seeing his partner and his younger sister hit it off. if liechtenstein likes you, he knows that he'll be keeping you around for a long time
i feel like he would be the type to want to buy his partner some nice, and i mean NICE clothes. he has the income for it...so every once in a while he'll def take them shopping.
he doesn't say 'i love you' that often because he thinks his love and his admiration for his partner shows through how he treats them. but when he does, he gets all quiet and can't really look them in the face. he isn't used to showing his vulnerable side.
he doesn't even want to show that sometimes he gets jealous...but he's bad at hiding it. he's direct in telling them how he feels, though. somehow, it's easier than expressing how much he's in love with them.
#hws switzerland#hetalia imagines#hetalia x reader#hetalia headcanons#hetalia x oc#hetalia x you#hetalia world stars#hetalia#aph switzerland#hetalia switzerland#basch zwingli#vash zwingli#hws liechtenstein#hetalia liechtenstein#hetalia fanfictions#hetalia fanfics#hetalia fandom#hetalia writers#hws relationships
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🔞 Unwrapping (Trigun x Reader)
ft Vash, Wolfwood, & Knives
Author's Note: I've got you one more present to wrap things up for this year (pun intended). Let us send 2024 off and start 2025 with a BANG! Inspired by this ask, I've just not been able to get a certain something off my mind...
Below you will find 3 smutty oneshots, each with some light bondage and varying dynamics! I tried to keep them brief, but I've never been good at it so here you go! On the menu today we have:
Vash x GN!Reader (1.3k words) Wolfwood x F!Reader (1.3k words) Knives x GN!Reader (1.2k words)
ATTENTION!: Don't question how the boys find themselves in these situations! It is all fine! It is consensual and everyone is enjoying themselves!
↓↓ UNWRAP YOUR PRESENTS ↓↓
VASH x GN!Reader (1.3k)
Vash looks more flustered than ever. You really can't recall a point when he looked so red. Perhaps the time he accidentally blurted out he was in love with you? No, not even close. Currently the bright red blush covers his entire face, extending down to his chest and making his ears almost glow. He is nearly as red as the ribbon tying him up. The silken cloth crisscrosses his scarred skin and augmentations. He looks embarrassed and shy as he averts his eyes from you, unable to meet your gaze. His arms are bound behind his head, and the wide satin strap spirals around him until it reaches his crotch, where it continues to wrap around one of his legs. A second ribbon wraps around his other thigh, ensnaring his cock and balls in a tight, restrictive embrace, only a bulging outline against his leg. A bow ties the two ends of the cloth together at his hip.
"Um… Mayfly?" He stammers, "Could you release me?"
"Unwrap my gift? Sure!" You smile, and his gaze finally meets yours.
"I know that look!" His eyes widen slightly. "That's the naughty look!"
"What makes you think that?" You continue to tease him while shifting closer.
"I'm all for it! I just can't do much like this," he replies, somehow blushing even deeper.
"Who said you need to do anything? I can't let an opportunity like this slip away!" You speak to him softly while looming over him.
Vash is a man of service. He is always happy to take the lead. He puts your needs above his own, doing whatever is necessary to bring you to completion, often neglecting his own joy. He says your pleasure is his. He gets a kick out of making you squirm in delight. Well, not this time. Now it is your turn, even if he has to be tied up for that.
You lean closer, leaving kisses on the skin peeking out between the ribbons. You kiss up along his stomach, to his chest and neck. You leave burning kisses everywhere your lips can reach, delighted by the soft sighs escaping Vash. Your hands stroke his rough skin tenderly, your legs entangling with his.
His lips respond to yours eagerly once you meet them. He tries his best to lean closer, but like this it is easy to keep him on his back, tied up and helpless. But he seems content, especially when he sees the happy expression on your face. He is letting you have your moment. You see his muscles flexing and rippling with each breath and shift as you push yourself up, one hand still resting on his belly. His eyes are so gentle and loving as he watches you; it almost makes you give up on your intentions and just cuddle him instead, but you snap back and adjust on the bed, determined to stick to your plan.
You take your place between his legs, kneeling and drawing closer until his legs are over your hips, a position where you often find yourself in, just with the roles reversed. Vash has to strain a bit to look at you since he has no pillow to support his head, but you count on him soon rolling his head back instead.
With a tender touch, you stroke along his skin, from his thighs to his abs, down his sides and butt. Your fingers are feather light, tingling his skin wherever they go. The touch is so gentle that he stirs only slightly, a soft sound escaping his lips. The blush slowly retreats as he relaxes, and the sight of him makes you feel butterflies. You keep teasing his skin; your warm touch is comforting, rising more and more feelings of desire.
You make a show out of slowly pulling the loose end of the bow on his hip until it unravels. A new blush appears on him again, and you feel the heat radiating from his body as you slowly start to unwrap the wide ribbon from around his thigh and cock. One revelation after another, you reveal more and more of his skin, his hard shaft coming into view, and you take every opportunity to gently tease him. The last rounds of the ribbon loosen themselves as his dick springs free, standing tall and proud in front of you. It twitches slightly with anticipation.
Vash looks more up, and you see the redness spreading over him again as he hides his face with a small whimper. You can tell he's embarrassed, but also incredibly turned on. Perhaps he is so embarrassed exactly because he is so turned on by your tantalizing touch, and he can't hide it behind his usual mannerisms of taking charge of the intimate situation. His cock rests on his stomach, darker than the rest of him; impressions of the ribbon still remain where it was bound.
The ribbon slithers off the edge of the bed where you throw it before you lick your palm, collecting enough spit on it to glide over his skin. You start from the base, putting gentle pressure on him until you reach the tip. He still avoids looking at you as you wrap your fingers around him, pulling downward in a smooth motion. Your movements are slow and calm, even when you add your other hand into the mix, stroking the smooth skin of his tip, fingers caressing the sensitive area just beneath. His breath hitches, and his eyes flutter closed, lost in the sensations you're causing.
It doesn't take long for him to forget his shyness; he simply melts under your touch, completely surrendering to the pleasure. Your own delight comes from watching him unravel before you. One of your hands moves up and down in a twisting motion along his shaft while the other teases his sensitive tip. The sounds of his pleasure fill the room, from whimpers to moans and empty breaths. You explore every bit of his arousal. With each movement, you feel his body respond eagerly, his back arches, and occasionally he bucks with his hips. Vash's shoulders start to shift, and his upper body twists, struggling against the restraints as you keep him on the verge, edging him to the point of desperation.
Your name rolls off his lips like prayer as he begs for release. His body is tight, arching in response to your touch. Restrained groans and whimpers escape him as finally he reaches the peak of pleasure and releases with a shudder. His muscles tense and relax as he rides the waves of ecstasy, his eyes closed in bliss. You continue to stroke him, guiding him through the climax. A glob of white liquid lands on his stomach with a loud groan and a twitch of his cock, another wave following the first as you stroke upward; it seeps from the tip and drips down his shaft and over your fingers. You keep jerking, determined to squeeze every last drop of pleasure from his balls, watching as he shudders and gasps in the aftermath of his release. A few more small, stringy ropes of cum dribble out, pooling on your hands.
Vash's chest heaves as he tries to catch his breath while he comes down from his intense high. You enjoy the sight of him. He looks happy and satisfied, almost out of his mind. You bring your fingers to your lips and taste him, relishing in the flavor when his eyes shoot open and find you, filled with a look that has completely abandoned the shyness from before. The sound of tearing fabric rips through the room as he busts out from the ribbons tying his arms behind his head, and his right hand grabs hold of yours, his long fingers effortlessly wrapping around your wrist as he pulls it closer while sitting up.
"Now it's my turn," he smiles a kind smile, but you recognize the mischief behind it.
WOLFWOOD x F!Reader (1.3k)
Wolfwood has disappeared. He hung around for most of the day, lazing it away with you, and then he got up and didn't return. You check the kitchen. Not there. You check the outside of the house, in case he is having an extraordinarily long smoke. Not there either. Finally, you sneak to the bedroom, in case he is taking a nap. You slowly crack the door, and your eyes widen in surprise.
On the old creaky bed you find what you were looking for. Kind of. Wolfwood lays on top of the bedsheets and blankets, the pillows bunched up by the headboard. He is the wrong way around, head where the feet are supposed to be. But that is not the shocking part. Not even close. He lies there butt naked, tied up with crimson ribbons. Wide bands of cloth crisscross his body, arms tied above his head, legs spread wide open, connected to the bedframe to keep him where he is. He looks over to you, a grin on his face, a glint of mischief in his eyes.
"Do you need a hand with something, Doll?" he asks with a playful tone, "I'm afraid I'm a bit tied up at the moment."
"What the…" Your voice trails off as you keep looking at his sculpted body.
Multiple thoughts run through your mind as he shifts in place, muscles rippling beneath his skin as he adjusts his stretched-out body. Your eyes are drawn to his navel, where his hard cock rests at full attention, a narrower ribbon tied around it with a bow. Clearly he has been waiting for you, head filled with exciting thoughts.
"How about you come closer, Poppet?" he purrs, voice full of lust, "My wrist may be bound, but you know I am never tongue-tied!"
You see him wink, and his fingers curl as he beckons you closer. Shock and confusion still linger in you, but it doesn't stop you from approaching the bed where his hands hang over the edge. You touch the ribbon with your fingers, a festive bow decorating his wrists. You consider pulling on the loose end to release him, but let your fingers trace along his arm instead until you touch his face. Wolfwood presses his cheek against your palm while you take a better look at him, spread out and tied up. Heat pools in your core at the sight, and just as your mind starts to wander, you feel his tied hands stroke up along the inside of your thighs.
"Want to have a seat?" he speaks softly, the grin evident in the tone of his voice, "I have one free right here."
You see the twitch of his cock as it lifts from his abdomen, and you can't help but feel a surge of desire at the invitation. You meet his playful eyes as you look down, his fingers tugging at his shirt that is too long on you. With some effort, he manages to reach the waistband of your underwear, teasingly pulling at the fabric.
"Come now, darling, I'm all yours," he says cheekily, and you take a step back. You cup his face and place an upside-down kiss on his lips.
You feel the vibrations as he hums in joy against your lips. Wolfwood's tongue sweeps through your mouth as soon as the possibility presents itself, making you both pause and smile against the other.
You straighten up, feeling his hungry eyes rip any item of clothing from your frame, yet his hands are tied, and you make a playful show out of pushing your panties down your legs and letting them fall to the floor before stepping out of them.
"I will kiss your lips and spell my full name with my tongue, the middle one included. Just bring them to me," he grins, his teeth flashing in the dimming room.
"Can't sleep on a gift like that," you smirk, leaning one knee on the edge of the bed, the long shirt covering you from his eyes.
"You could, but I highly recommend sleeping with the gift," he smiles still. "Now take a seat, Doll."
Wolfwood waits anxiously as you crawl closer to him on the bed, swallowing as soon as your pussy comes into view. Before you can settle in, he lifts his head to run his tongue through your folds, making you jolt with surprise.
"I can't help it if you taste so good," he hums as he lays down his head again. "Feel free to suffocate me. I would prefer that method of going out, and you know where the serum is, so no hovering."
You lean back at first as you lower yourself. His mouth eagerly finds your aching core, Wolfwood's flat tongue lapping at your slick heat with expertise. Your gasps of joy mix with his muffled hums of delight. It is so easy to melt into the pleasure as he sucks on your swollen clit, sending waves of ecstasy through your body. He alternates the sensation with lengthier and calmer strokes of his tongue, building the tension until you lean forward, fingers hooking under the ribbon that runs across his heaving chest.
The bliss makes your eyes roll back in pleasure while you let out a soft moan. Wolfwood knows every trick there is about you. His mouth brings you delight as he kisses your lower lips, his tongue drawing patterns you don't understand while he eats your pussy like it is his last meal. He draws pressured circles around your entrance before plunging his tongue inside you, making your thighs tighten and another wave of pleasure wash over you.
His body feels tight under you, like he is struggling against the restraints. Usually he would have already wrapped his arms around your legs and pulled you down even more, holding you against his ravenous mouth. His lips return to sucking on your sensitive bud, occasionally tapping it with his tongue. He builds your pleasure brick by brick, relishing the moans and gasps that reach his ears.
Wolfwood's mouth makes you forget the rest of the world. Before you know it, you're rolling your hips, grinding your wet core against his hungry mouth, desperate for more of his skilled touch. Knots of tension form in your gut as you rut against his lips, the need for release burning deep within you. The deep moans escaping his own throat vibrate against your pussy, making you want even more of him.
You bite your lower lip to silence the out-of-control moans and panting, but they continue to roll as whines in your throat as he sucks on your clit, the tip of his crooked nose pushing against your slick folds. You lean even more forward to grind your bud against his face. Your whole body trembles with pleasure, thighs clenching and shaking while you teeter on the edge of relief. You reach out your hand to wrap your fingers around his cock. The skinny ribbon digs into his throbbing length, and you smear the glob of pre-cum across the tip with your thumb. His groans vibrate against your skin as you stroke him, feeling his arousal match yours. You add your spit to the mix, using it as lubrication to bump up and down along his bound dick, soaking the ribbon of fabric wrapped tightly around it.
"Nico…" His name escapes your mouth in a whine. "I'm gonna come!"
You whimper his name like a chant as he continues to lap at your cunt, sucking and licking your clit until you reach your peak. Your body becomes so tense and occupied with the immense pleasure, you even forget the cock in your hand, freezing up until the climax finally washes over you, leaving you trembling as your thighs press together around his head. You let out a deep moan of satisfaction as he lets you come down from your high. It makes you feel weak and spent, leaving you lying down on top of Wolfwood's restrained body. He gasps for air as you rest your head on his hip, next to his cock that you start to absentmindedly stroke again, your mind still fuzzy from the orgasm that ravaged your body.
KNIVES x GN!Reader (1.2k)
"Untie me!" Knives demands with as much command as he can muster.
"Don't worry, I will," you smile innocently as you glance over his mostly naked body. Wide and silky red ribbons run crisscrossing from his ankles to his wrists, around his limbs, and over his torso. Multiple lavish bows decorate him. One by his feet, tying them together; one by his hands, where he is secured to the metal headboard of the bed; and a third one rests in his lap, where the ribbon runs over his hips. There is nothing else hiding his porcelain skin from you. Not a thing.
"Now!" he tries to hurry you up.
"No need to be hasty," you purr while leaning your knee on the edge of the bed. You reach out your hand to cup his face, making his angry glare turn directly to you. Knives's eyes meet yours, and suddenly they aren't nearly as harsh as he was trying to make them. You feel his jaw lock under your touch before he swallows.
"I knew you would come to your senses. Don't be so stubborn." Your smirk only grows as you gently slap his cheek twice. He seems at a loss for words; the snarl on his lips makes it clear he wants to keep demanding to be released, but the shift in the rest of his demeanor shows that at least part of him is content and perhaps even curious about the situation. "I know what would make you feel better."
You trace your finger along his jawline to his chin and down his throat, feeling the steady thump of his heartbeat beneath your touch. You run your hand over his muscular chest and down his sculpted stomach, feeling the difference of his smooth skin and silky ribbon as they alternate under your finger. Skipping over his bellybutton, your finger reaches the ribbon running over his hips. You feel him tense slightly at your touch, but his eyes remain fixed on yours, a mixture of uncertainty and anticipation swirling in their depths. You let your fingers dance over the red fabric, low on his abdomen, before leaning in towards his ear.
"Believe me, I have every intention of unwrapping my present, and I will take great pleasure in it." With that, you nip at his earlobe, your teeth making it turn red.
Knives starts to protest again as soon as you get off the bed, his voice angry and demanding, but you drown it out, determined to enjoy your present immensely as you shed your clothes until all that remains is your underwear. Your joints crack as you stretch your arms lazily over your head with your back towards Knives, who is still spouting commands you have no intention of listening to. With a roll of your neck, you turn to him again, a mischievous smile dawning on your lips. You get on the bed, crawling closer to him on all fours until you straddle his lap, more towards his spread-out knees. He is in a half-sitting position himself, pillows heaped under his lower back and his arms restrained above his head. Like this, you're face to face with him, able to see every shift of his gaze as your hands run over his body again. First you slide your palms up and over his chest and then drag them down again to his navel and hips. He feels solid and tense under your touch, like a coiled spring ready to release. His eyes are no different as he plays chicken with yours. Without a warning and without averting your gaze, you reach one of your hands under the tied bow before you and grab hold of his half-flaccid cock. You can feel it twitch in your hand, responding to your sudden touch. His breath hitches, and his eyes shoot down as you begin to stroke him with your thumb like he's a small pet.
"You demand to be untied with such vigor, yet you aren't excited at all at the prospect," you sound out with a teasing voice, "How about you show some enthusiasm, and I promise I will help."
You see his mouth open in protest, but you remove your hand from his cock to grab his jaw and crash your mouth to his, effectively silencing any further objections. As a reaction, he responds to your kiss, even leaning his head forward, but as suddenly as you started, you pull away, a smug smile playing on your lips.
"Not another peep out of you, got it?" you say calmly, leaning your forehead to his while still holding his face in a vicelike grip. His eyes widen, but he doesn't say anything. "Good boy."
Knives's eyes stay nailed to you as you pull away, leaning back to run your hands over your own body, from your neck down to your chest and stomach until your fingers brush the hem of your underwear.
"Over or under?" you ask him with a grin, but he doesn't reply. "Good!"
You push your underwear down as far as you can until you can touch yourself more easily. Knives's gaze moves down with your hand after you pick up some spit with it. He watches eagerly as you start to pleasure yourself. A few heavier breaths cross your lips, and you see his Adam's apple bob up and down. You lean back farther, bowing your body and supporting one hand on his knee. You know he enjoys watching you play with yourself; you've noticed it before, and the shift of the bow hiding his cock from view is even more proof of it. His eyes darken with desire as he watches you, his silence only adding to the intensity. The only sounds filling the small room come from you, leaving Knives's lips to part slightly. His chest moves with slow and heavy breaths, showing just how much he's struggling to maintain his composure. You look over his marble figure and the piercing red ribbon that digs slightly into his body with each deep breath. As your gaze reaches his lap, you see the weeping head of his erect cock peek out from between the loops of the bow.
With a lick of your lips, you reach out to take the loose end of the ribbon between your fingers; you twist it, wrapping it around your index before tugging at it slowly. You keep looking at his wavering eyes as you pull the bow loose, releasing Knives's cock from its confines and letting it spring free. You see how he tries to keep his composure, but his face leans closer, and his cock twitches with anticipation. The coil of ribbon is around your hand as you tug it free from under him, and you scoot closer, taking his dick into the other hand and pressing it against your own throbbing sex.
Knives draws breath to say something while you stroke along his hard length, but you stuff his mouth with the ribbon you pulled loose from around him before he gets a single word out. His voice is muffled and unrecognizable as you continue to pleasure him. While your hand moves up and down along his length, you lean your body more against his. You feel his heavy breaths and racing pulse beneath you.
"I told you to be quiet," you whisper into his ear, "All you can say is Please and I want more. Got it? I will fuck you until one of us passes out and there is no point in pleading to be untied."
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The Hickey on Your Neck
↳ Vash the Stampede x Female Reader
One-shot
Summary: Only seconds before closing your eyes do you realize that the dreams you had forgotten among the lust and thrust of your lover were the life you were destined to lead.
Or a story about how You and Vash fucked from dawn to dusk on his birthday.
Word count: +17.5 k.
Genre: explicit smut, romance, angst (Trigun au).
Warnings/Tags: +18, NSFW, established relationship, soft/dom Vash the Stampede, too much fluff and kissing, scar worship, plant patterns display, manhandling, cunnilingus + fellatio, creampie, fingering (with prosthetic arm), unprotected sex (c’mon! We want his seeds), multiple orgasms, hair pulling, two smut scenes (one romantic, other hardcore), aftercare, emotional trauma, violence, blood and gore, post-Trigun Stampede but no manga spoilers.
Notes: I'd never written a Trigun fic before, but with this Vash brain rot, I'm sure it won't be the last. I originally intended to name this fic "Sleepless Nightmare" after TOMBI song, but somehow changed my mind. You'll see why. "Elay" in my mother tongue means the Moon of a Tribe. A nick name Vash will use for reader.
By the way, you can also read the Disclaimers and Writer's Note at the end.
Song Recommendation: The Hickey on Your Neck Playlist
You can read my fics on AO3 and Wattpad. If you have any questions, don’t be shy and ASK. This is my DISCORD account, in case you want to contact me.
Back to master list.
07:30 pm – July 21st
A hole had been left in your heart. Throwing yourself backward, you tripped over your feet. Your head slammed into the floor as your arms did little to break your fall. It was a pain you'd never known, a pain you never thought you could feel, never would have even imagined. From the inside out, you were lit on fire by a bullet that went off in your chest.
All of a sudden, everything slowed down.
So this, you thought, was what dying felt like.
You blinked, and it seemed to take forever. The images before you were unfocused, with colors, bodies, and lights swaying in unison and stilted movements blurring. Your ears couldn't hear clearly. All the sounds were garbled, warped, and too high or low.
Who … she?
I asked for a tall, blond man with … eyes, and the folks pointed at her.
How come … shot her …?
She said … had never met such a man.
… idiot! What if she's with the gunman?
Whatever. … doesn't draw a gun anymore; rumor has it.
What a moron! The man may not kill, but … wiped out … whole city!
What ��� … we should … then?
If … … his girl, … … screwed up!
… the bounty! … get lost before the news …!
It was like all the words were banging into each other, colliding again, spinning around you. Your name seemed to be being called, but you couldn't hear it. Everything was muffled, slippery, and off-balance, like it was there, just out of reach, but you couldn't find it.
Heavy footsteps stomped, stomped, and stomped the ground, and a familiar face appeared before you. The shape, the golden and green colors drew your attention, and you tried raising your hand to feel his warmth once more and assure him that everything was okay, but it was too hard, and suddenly you couldn't breathe. Your throat felt like it was being slashed, holes punching into your lungs, and the more you blinked, the less clearly you could see. The tightest breaths, tiny little gasps, were soon all you could manage. Pain, pain, and more pain followed the dizziness and lightheaded feeling. It was terrible, never seeming to end.
Your sight suddenly went dim. Blindness overtook you.
Blood dripped from you rather than being seen as you blinked, blinked, and blinked in a desperate attempt to regain your vision, but all you saw was a cloud of white. A short frantic gasp and the pounding of your eardrums were all heard. Some warm sensation spread throughout your body as the fresh blood pooled under you.
You knew your life was about to evaporate, and it only made you think about how short you lived with him and how he would blame himself for your loss. Leaving your tears to fall, you whispered, "I-I'm sorry, Vash."
05:45 am - July 21st
A sharp intake of breath caused your eyes to fly open. Your skin froze in a cold sweat as your brain waded in waves of distress. Inhaling as much as possible was the only thing you could do. Your chest heaved, and your heart raced. You looked around, feeling the stillness within the madness, blinking hard against the white ceiling.
Your hands reached your throat and chest. No blood. No holes. You could feel your pulse. That must be the sound of your heart, at least, you hoped.
There was a strange feeling in your gut, like your instincts were stumbling through mud, and your bones were filled with stones. Your eyes shifted to the other side of the bed, and you sighed in relief. The reality sleeping next to you brought a moment of clarity. You sat up on your elbows, head spinning as you glanced at the nightstand.
The glass was empty.
You slowly pushed the sheets aside and felt more awake with your bare feet touching the cold floor. Picking up the glass, you tiptoed toward the murky kitchen.
You reached for the pitcher on the table, but the water never made it to your lips; instead, your trembling hands grabbed the faded and scratched edges of the cabinet as if letting go of this old piece of plywood would plunge you into the blackhole of your nightmare.
A muffled whimper escaped from the bottom of your throat, and you whispered, it was just a dream. Yet, your white knuckles became wet as tears streamed down your face, blurring the cracked tiles before you.
You shouldn't have cried. You should have been stronger. Not just for yourself, but...
Incoherent thoughts still occurred to you as you pressed your palm to your lips—a fruitless attempt to stop any further crying from coming out.
It was just a dream. Everything was fine.
Your glistening eyes were fixed on the glass of water as you took a sip and pushed the venom-like lump down your throat. Nobody was going to lose anyone. This fear was deeply buried under the sands of your heart. Why did it have to appear today of all days?
A chill ran down your esophagus. Your hand shook involuntarily, and a few drops of water slid from the corner of your mouth to your chin and neck and then ran to your perked nipples.
Looking down at your body, you wiped the drops away before feeling cold. After all, this planet didn't earn its name, "Noman's Land" for nothing. The weather could get pretty chilly and cruel in this desert when those two suns weren't out. Moreover, let's not forget how many people were denied heat due to a lack of resources. Ugh! So, it's not like you didn't know you should've worn something, but God damn it! You woke up feeling a great deal of fear. Fuck! Still, you weren't eager to catch a cold. At least, not today. As you were about to return to bed, you suddenly stopped. Random images filled your mind.
Tears staining emerald green eyes, red flowers blooming on blood, and heart-wrenching screams fading in the night, all in an empty room filled with balloons and mud.
The next gulp of water tasted salty, leaving you feeling numb. Tears must have flowed down your cheeks. You lowered your glass and let your thoughts drift away.
There was a flash of your limp body in your mind, accompanied by a sharp twinge in your gut, a screaming sensation in your body, as if your lungs craved for air.
You wicked away the images, expunging thoughts of pain and death from your mind. The churning in your stomach began to slow, but your skin took on a damp, clammy sensation in its wake. You struggled to recount the things you had eaten last night. It must be it. No doubt, you had eaten poorly.
It was just a dream. What the hell was wrong with you? Crying over a dream? What were you, five? No, not today! Not today! Not today! Get your shits together!
After a moment of hesitation, you rubbed your eyes with the back of your hand, ran your palm across your forehead and nose, and stopped it on your mouth before glancing at the bed.
Your pale face bloomed with a faint smile as you saw the sight—a miracle in this barren wilderness.
The curtains of the half-open window fluttered lazily with the morning breeze, letting the suns' rays play upon his scarred shoulder blades now and then, and run their greedy fingers through the golden waves of his hair, an enraged sea of sunflowers bounded by rough rocky beaches on the side. Oh! His undercut was glorious from where you watched.
He was sleeping with his eyelids slowly moving. The corners of his lips were curved upwards. Today seemed to be one of those rare days when he was free of the burdens of his past. Was he dreaming? What was his dream about? Love? Peace? Foods? Probably sweets!
You tried to avoid the woods squeaking beneath your feet as you walked back. Putting the glass of water next to the orange-tinted shades, you slowly climbed back under the warm sheets without shifting the mattress too much.
Once your head touched the pillow, cinnamon, and caramel again filled your nostrils. The man ate so many donuts that you feared he would become one. When you pictured it, your smile reached your eyes, and you giggled silently.
Like on the days you woke up early, you rolled over to face him and let your eyes roam over his abs muscles and those beautiful V lines guiding you to his secret paradise. Other than the massive gash across his chest, he had several cuts on his arms, wounds on his shoulders, and scars all over his back and legs. This man was a walking history, marked with painful memories, and luckily, your lips had perfectly mastered the story behind every blemish, slit, and stitch on his body.
It wasn't that simple, though.
When you first met him, he was a broken man covered in an old cloak, his eyes filled with agony. He was consumed by remorse, but nonetheless, he was still full of life and willing to try and glue back all his broken parts. Indeed, it was a challenge for him, and somehow, it didn't come easy to you either. Your heart ached when you removed each piece of clothing from his body. You cursed those who hurt him. It took you time and love to learn how to cherish those wounds instead of looking at them with pity. And little by little, your eyes learned to see a delicate kind of beauty in them, as if, every once in a while, you could see the sunlight shining through the cracks of his heart, lighting up your world in a most wonderful way.
Perhaps that's why after years of running, running, and running, he stopped for once and decided to rest. Something about you must have felt like home. And how lucky you were to have this?
06:30 am - July 21st
You couldn't look away from him, your mind unable to comprehend the perfection of this happiness. He was so ethereal you could hardly fathom that he was yours, wanted and loved you. You couldn't even hear yourself think over the rush of blood in your ears. The sight of him sleeping beside you, relaxed and vulnerable, was causing wild, desperate thoughts to race through your head. God! The fantasies you'd had about him. The places your mind had gone.
You sighed and brushed your face to the pillow, hoping he would roll over to you in his sleep so you could get back into his arms and the legs draped around you. Your eyelids peered at the glistening prosthetic arm in the soft light of the down. Could he feel your warmth whenever you kissed those fingers? How come you had never asked? There were many things you hadn't asked him yet.
Maybe you should start tomorrow? Hm? It's not like the world was ending today.
"You're going to come back over here, or you want to leave me cold and lonely?" he murmured, the raggedness in his voice confirming that he had been sleeping. Your gaze shifted upwards to meet his eyes, only to realize they were still shut, but his lips were painted with a playful grin.
Something inside you melted. It moved by his words, his smile, and his voice.
"I thought you were asleep." You scooted closer, and he wrapped his arms around you, cautious not to accidentally hurt you when he slipped his left arm beneath your neck. "I didn't want to wake you up." Your forehead pressed against his chest, and you felt the coldness of the iron mesh against your skin. His chin rested on your head, and his toes caressed your legs. The prickles of scars and fine hairs of his limbs tickled yours, and you felt blessed.
Funny how your nightmare faded the moment you felt his warmth like he burned a hole right through your head and pulled all your thoughts out. Well, other than that, it seemed like this morning, everything about him was exactly what you needed. His voice was calm and caring, his arms protective, and his presence comforting. You didn't want him to let go of you.
"Even if you had woken me up," he said, his artificial fingers sinking into your hair, and he continued, "I wouldn't have minded." A light kiss on the crown of your head followed his honest words. Even though this man kissed you every day and night, you could feel a silent giggle seeping into your body, causing your face to blush bright red.
Vash yawned soundlessly as he pulled you closer, his eyes still closed. The two of you were so close, too close, but never close enough for him. You had come to realize that your body heat did more for him than any blanket could. It was always in his eyes, aching with a desperate yearning he could only meet with you and your touch.
A joyful happiness settled between you as his hands drew shapes and patterns alongside your spine like those bright ones sometimes you could see on his body. Your lips curved into a smile as you watched him. His hair thick and blonde. The lines of his body sharp and robust. Damn! He had everything about him beautifully crafted. His nose. His chin. His ears and eyebrows. The eyelashes any girl would kill for and those turquoise-green eyes you longed to see. He had a gorgeous mouth.
You lingered too long there, your eyes betraying your mind.
Vash smiled. "What are you doing?" He fiddled with your hair, wrapping a lock around his finger.
In response, you sighed. Clearly, you would never discover how to avoid getting caught red-handed every time. "Just enjoying the view," you said, still staring at his mouth. You reached and touched two fingers to his bottom lip only to feel a rush of memories.
Long nights. Early morning. His mouth on you. Everywhere. Over and over again.
07:15 am - July 21st
He laughed sheepishly at your response.
You brushed a strand of hair off his forehead. His hair had grown a little long. You stroked his cheeks and drew his head back toward you, pressing your lush mouth against his. It never took him long to part his lips. He kissed you back, holding your head steady with his prosthetic arm while his other embraced you tightly. You could feel him smiling against your lips.
He had your heart, and you loved him quite horribly, too. This fact always smacked you over the head so hard you felt dizzy. You should have been afraid and wanted to hide it, as he was the most wanted man on the planet, but love had made you bold and brave.
You pulled back and studied his kiss-inspiring lips. Your whole body was filled with a warmth you wanted to share with him because it was pure, and so was he. There was no way for you to find the right words to describe how you felt.
The morning light was shining through the windows at the perfect angle and time. His muscles were taut, bathed in gold.
"Can you lie back, Vash?" you asked, pushing his shoulder back toward the bed. Finally fluttering his eyes open, he lifted his head in your direction.
Oh.
God.
His eyes.
He blinked dark lashes, revealing a spectrum of sadness and beauty, unlike anything you'd seen before. The way a person could convey so much with a glance caught you off guard. He had an extraordinary amount of pain paired with even more extraordinary passion.
His face spread into a wide smile the moment he saw you. These smiles, they changed him, and moments like this killed you a little.
He had the kind of face that made you forget where you were, who you were, and what you might say or do. You held his face in your hands as you laid his head down on the pillow. A half-lidded gaze sat on his face as he leaned to your touch, and you kissed him. Slowly, this time. His eyes fell closed. His mouth responded to yours.
Your fingers moved to his neck, then to his hair, and your mouth followed them. Soft lips caressed his earlobes and nipped the tiny single hoop, hot breaths hitting his skin, surprising a giggle out of him.
His hands reached up to pull you closer, but you stopped him. "No," you whispered. "Don't move." Without a second thought, he dropped his hands.
"Lie back and keep your eyes closed," you muttered, and strangely, he didn't object. His obedience led to you kissing him everywhere. His cheeks. His eyelids. His chin. The tip of his nose and the space between his eyebrows. All across his forehead and along his jawline. Every inch of his face. Soft, small kisses that said more than you ever could. You wanted him to know how you felt. You wanted him to feel it in the way only he could, the way he could sense the depth of your emotions. You wanted him to know and never forget.
And you wanted to take your time.
As your mouth moved down his neck, he gasped. You peeked up at his features only to meet a crooked grin on his face. The moment was worth savoring. It seemed like Mr. Vash was enjoying himself, so your tongue continued to adore his arm's sculpted hills and valleys, the perfect shape of his torso.
You breathed in the scent of his skin and took in the taste of him as your hands ran down his abs, kissing your way across and down the line of his torso. You kissed around his navel, and the trails of fine hair underneath caressed your lips. He kept reaching for you, trying to touch you until you told him to stop.
"Please," he said, taking a deep breath. "I want to feel—"
Even though he couldn't see you, you raised your brows with a head tilt and gentled back his arms. "Not yet. Not now."
He let out a breath in protest and crossed his arms behind his neck until your hands went further down and his eyes flew open. Blinking at him, you found out you were still fascinated by his eyes—such a stunning shade of green. "Close your eyes, Vash," you had to tell him.
A big gulp of air filled up his Adam apple. "No." He hardly spoke.
"Close your eyes!"
With his sharp gaze following your every move, he shook his head and leaned on his elbows.
"Fine." You rolled your eyes, and your hand grabbed the base of his hardness.
As soon as your nails brushed the skin of his length, he sat up and stared at you. He was breathing so fast you could hear and see his chest moving.
With a smile, you looked him in the eyes and leaned your head down. Your mouth took in the tip, and your tongue traced circles as Vash gasped. The sight of your bent head made him bite his lip. No doubt every fiber of his being demanded you to take him fully in your mouth, but he wanted you to call the shots. Allowing you to control the pace pushed him to the edge. He enjoyed the thrill of knowing he was at your mercy.
Soft hairs of his thighs against your ears, your nose skimmed his sensitive areas, and your lips kissed all over those favorite parts. The smooth skin of your fingers rolled around was warm and delicate, so fragile you were afraid you might tear it with your teeth. You felt his hardness throb against your cheek, pleading with you not to neglect him. Your thumb rubbed the pre-cum off the pink tip as you raised your head.
You looked up at him, his hair gleaming like golden flames, his cheeks drenched with sweat, and his lower lip stuck between his teeth, and you realized that his eyes looked at you with a look of something like trepidation, as if he was nervous. His face was still flushed red, and he had an expression somewhere between unworthiness and pleasure. With every stroke, his breath grew heavier. Obviously, he wanted more but was trying to contain his desire. Did he feel he was getting something he didn't deserve again?
There was no way you could let him be alone with these thoughts. So, before his dazzled eyes, you licked your thumb and watched how blood drained from his head and rushed straight to his torso. In surrender, he fell back; his eyes squeezed shut. You closed your mouth to half his length, and he turned his face to the pillow, stifling a moan. A tremor ran through his body, and his hands gripped the sheets tightly. Your hands ran down his legs, grabbing them just above his knees and inching them apart so you could trail kisses down the insides of his thighs.
He looked like he was in so much pain. So much pain.
You licked the pain away.
Twirling your fingers around the length, you took the crown in your mouth. Only enough to tease. Too little to satisfy. Your lips gently pressed against it, and when Vash was ready to scream, you accepted his whole length in your mouth.
Your lips were sealed tight as you hummed and increased the speed of your ministration. He threaded his fingers through your hair and molded his hands into your head, not to push you further down but to tilt your face up.
His forehead and neck were dripping sweat. The lines of emotion on his face were so deep you wondered how you must look to him. His throat bobbed, and you felt yourself drown in his eyes, enigmatic yet expressive, like sea foam, tempestuous but very calm. His fingers trailed over your salivate-covered lips, and you noticed that the sadness in his eyes had receded.
The world was suddenly brighter, bigger, and more beautiful.
07:40 am - July 21st
Taking hold of you by the arm pits, Vash pulled you in until your chest touched his. Next, you were rolled over so that your back touched the mattress, and he crawled onto you. Now his arms were propped up on either side of your head so he would not crush you under his weight. Looking into his eyes, you were pinned in place. His urgency ignited your bones. The polished planes of his face glowed with rivulets of sweat. His hardness was poking desperately against your thigh.
"I want to … …, …," he whispered. Intoxicated, you couldn't digest anything except his body hovering over you.
"… ?" His body pressed closer, and you realized you were paying attention to nothing but the dandelions blowing wishes in your lungs.
His eyes were heavy now in a way that worried you, but his gaze was still so tender, focused, and full of emotions you could hardly bring yourself to say anything. As your words faded, they became an unspoken whisper. Your lips glued together.
Screams.
Death.
Screams.
Your heart suddenly raced. What if these moments were destined to expire?
The sound of a clock striking midnight. A pumpkin carriage. The possibility of losing him.
You didn't want your arms to be deprived of his warmth. His touch. His lips, God, his lips, his mouth on your neck, his body wrapped around yours. The nightmare had caused this all, you knew, but the realization was like a pendulum the size of the moon. It wouldn't stop slamming into you.
Blinking fast, you swallowed back the fear building in your throat. God! He was speaking with you, but you couldn't hear him.
You were worried, really worried something was going to happen to him. What if bounty hunters found him? Could his brother hurt him? No. No. No. Even though you were only a human, you would never allow such a thing to happen. You just couldn't. You...
"Hey," he said, his voice soft, so soft. His arms were stronger than all the bones in your body. He pulled your figure close. You heard the beats of his heart humming deeply within his chest, and the steel of his arm encircled your whole body, releasing tension from your limbs. The icicles in your body were melted by his heat. Something about this frame made you want to freeze it forever. "You okay, Firefly? Wanna stop?"
The words he said sent waves of emotion coursing through you. He could read you like an open palm. You weren't lost before you met him, but you were never found until he laid eyes on you. Your tears stung as they fell backward down your throat, burning as they went. "Kiss me, Vash," you said before closing your eyes.
He searched your face, unsure what to do, hesitating, until you felt his lips on your shoulder, tender and scorching, so gentle you could almost believe it was the kiss of breeze and not a man.
Again.
This time, it was on your collarbones and felt like an ache that needed to be soothed. You didn't want to do anything to stop his mouth from touching your body.
He pulled back.
Desire.
Crave.
Need.
Again.
Your eyes refused to open.
His finger grazed the corner of your mouth, tracing its shape, the curves, the seams, and the dips. You felt him so much closer, his body heat filling the air around you, along with his smell and something sweet, until nothing was left. Your senses were so engulfed in his scent you didn't even realize your back was arching toward him as you breathed him in until you found out his fingers were no longer on your lips because his hand had gotten around your body.
"So, where do you want me to kiss you?" Vash whispered, his chest heaving, his words almost gasping. A wave of blistering heat moved through you, sealed shut your mouth. You didn't specify precisely where you wanted him to kiss you, and he didn't seem to have any difficulty selecting the spot.
He whispered your name as he kissed the corner of your eyebrow. "Here?" His lips brushed over the shell of your ear, and your body squirmed slightly. "Or here?" He pressed a kiss against your neck, right beneath your ear, and you tipped your head to let him in, biting down the urge to beg him to take more, to take faster, as he murmured, "tell me."
Clasping your warm fingers with his cold metallic ones, he hovered over you to kiss your throat. You were the oxygen he desperately needed to breathe. His body was almost on top of yours, one hand in your hair while the other held yours delicately yet firmly. His lips crushed yours in no time.
A kiss like this was like swimming in honey rivers, like being dipped in gold, like diving into an ocean of bliss and not realizing you were drowning because you were too caught up in the current to notice. Nothing mattered anymore—neither your nightmare, this room, or the whole fucking planet.
All that mattered was this.
This.
This moment. These lips. This strong body pressed against yours, and these firm hands that always found a way you bring you closer. Oh, My Gosh! You wanted so much more of him. You wanted all of him.
Your eyes opened up.
Not content to be passive, your hands ran down his back, dancing over his broad shoulders, pressing into his dimples, and squeezing his hips.
Your hand grabbed a fistful of his hair when he broke for air with a groan, but you pushed him back, kissing his neck, arm, collarbones, and chest. It was amazing. Being with him, touching him, holding him like this. The rush of adrenaline was so intense and euphoric that you felt invincible.
He muttered your name, his lips mouthing the letters, barely speaking. Your skin was scorched everywhere he hadn't touched you.
He kissed your top lip.
He licked your bottom lip.
He kissed just under your chin, the tip of your nose, the length of your forehead, both temples and cheeks across your jawline. Then your neck, behind your ears, the space between your breasts. He nibbled your nipples and left trails of kisses all the way down your belly button until his entire form moved down your figure, disappearing as he shifted downward, and suddenly his chest was hovering above your hips.
Grasping your calves, he spread your legs apart just enough for his head to fit between. Your thighs were lifted, and you couldn't see him anymore. His only visible features were the top of his head, the curve of his shoulders, and the unsteady rise and fall of his back as he breathed. Eventually, even that sight was lost, with your head falling backward and muffled moans leaving your mouth.
Vash ran his hands down and up around your bare upper thighs and ribs, and he held your hips to make you stand still. Your eyes lit up like small firecrackers every time his hair teased your groins until his lips kissed you there, and fireworks exploded in the back of your head.
As his right hand pressed against your stomach, his tongue played around to make you scream aloud. His mouth brushed against your skin in places you couldn't see but felt deeply. Oh my! You were out of your body, touching stars, when you realized he was working his way up your body, leaving two fingers of that prosthetic arm behind.
"It might feel a bit cold," he said as his nose glided the skin of your stomach, leaving random kisses around your breasts and collarbones just to ease your tension. "Tell me if it hurts, okay?" His hair was a mess, the wetness on his lips all familiar.
A nod came from you in response. He almost seemed to be smiling as his fingers slipped inside your slit, and your nails dug into the fabric. Moaning, you felt his warm hand brushing your hair backward as the other moved up and down inside your walls.
Your mouth was parted in a silent moan, and his small pecks covered you all around. There were tears in your eyes, baby hairs sticking to your sweaty forehead.
As his thumb and two fingers hit all the right spots, your throat wailed in frustration.
You grabbed his free arm, and he pulled himself up, onto you, on top of you. As if reading your thoughts, he kissed you hard. How strange, yet sweet, all you could taste was you, yourself, on his tongue. You moaned at the taste, and he opened his mouth more for you, allowing you to brush your tongue against his teeth.
The stinging coldness of his fingers was long gone. You had forgotten everything. There was something you shouldn't have forgotten, but you couldn't even remember why, what you were forgetting. Amid his length caressing your side and those digits thrusting backward and forward, paying attention to anything else was hard.
You could die from this, you decided. From wanting him, from the pleasure of being with him.
You must be smiling because he was looking at you and smiling too. His forehead was pressed against yours. His skin was flushed with heat. His hand had kept your head still. Your hands gripped his nick, sliding into the hollow behind it. You placed your palms just above his nape, and your fingertips gently began to squeeze and massage his undercut.
"Va-sh."
For a moment, you thought life poured out of you, or maybe your vision fractured as release barreled into you, and you grasped his name over and over again till your body calmed under his weight.
08:10 am- July 21st
Your eyes landed on his glistening wet metallic fingers, and you were dripping, burning, melting with anticipation. He was still on top of you when you thought you heard him speak, his mouth close to your ear.
"I love you," he whispered and kissed your brow. It never occurred to you that he could be like this, so human, so real, but it was there. It was right there. Raw, written across his face. You were about to mutter all the words and worries you held in your chest, but suddenly he stood up and stared blankly at the other side of the room.
You followed his gaze to the pane of glass separating you from the reality outside. You awaited his lips to part. You waited to listen to him speak. His eyes weren't revealing anything about what he was thinking, what was going on.
Something about the realization struck fear into your heart. In the span of a single instant, darkness surrounded your vision. Images appeared in the blur of your sight again.
The petals of red Geraniums floating in the sky, a boy running through blood-stained sands, the time speeding up and slowing down in fits and starts, streaks of green and red staining your dilated eyes, stars exploding, lights flashing, sparking, and then it's all darkness and Vash's screams.
You shook your head.
The images disappeared, but the heartaches and fears lingered, and you had to keep reminding yourself to breathe. Your lungs begged for air, but you looked around for Vash instead.
It seemed he wanted to scream, but you knew the words wouldn't leave his mouth. Those thoughts would expand in his head, explosive and angry, pressing against the ridges of his mind, and then he would hide them behind a smile. As he always did.
"Vash?" you called, just before witnessing how a car's radio sound from the street ripped open his past, pulled out what was left of his heart, and dropped it on the floor.
"… been two years since that fateful July 21st. A crowd has gathered at what used to be the third city of July to pay their respects. Even after two years, the pain of losing their loved ones has yet to heal. The suspect said to have murdered 90 percent of the city, also known as the Humanoid Typhoon, still remains at large. Vash the Stampede is on the run. If I were the demon who turned the whole city into a gaping crater overnight, I'd hide my face too. There is no forgetting the sorrow of loved ones taken from us. The Alliance of Cities has raised the dead or alive bounty on Vash the Stampede to $$60 billion, the highest in the history of…"
The loud words bounced around in the haze of your head, fogging your senses, misting your eyes, and clouding your concentration. In your bones, there was just ice. Your entire being wanted to vomit. Reality slapped you in the face, punched you in the jaw, and dumped you into sand oceans. You grasped the nightstand to keep yourself steady. The orange shades fell on the floor, leaving a big crack on display.
Vash was shaking his head over and over and over and over. He was looking at his hands like he would see some blood on them, as if waiting for the part where someone would tell him this wasn't real and he didn't actually kill those 200,000 innocent people.
Oh, my beloved.
The pain was so plain on his face; it was killing you. Your gaze was drawn to the balled fists at his sides, the furrows in his brow, and the tension in his jaw. Minutes ago, this man was free, but now he was a prisoner of his own crime. In your heart, you wished you could release him from the claws of self-reproach.
Having seen his terror too often, you knew it well.
Sometimes, even when he was asleep, his tormented mind would grip his heart, and such emptiness and sadness would fill him that you felt he was suffocating, as if his sleepless nightmares never had an end.
You didn't know him before,
but
you
thought
he
had
lost
a
bit
of
himself
on
the
day
of
July
incident.
As time passed, you assumed he had finally learned not to dwell on what had happened. You imagined he avoided it like a cripple learning not to put weight on his injured leg.
However, deep down, you knew he was living on eggshells, always wondering when something would break, when everything would crumble. You always dreaded this day. This silence. It was not just an ordinary silence caused by the lack of things that moved or made noise, but a deep and tired silence that sometimes covered him like an invisible cloak—like the one ruling between your shared walls right now.
Stacks of sorrow had grown inside him, settling on his bones and snapping him in half. A cable twisted around his neck, a worm crawling across his stomach. It was the night, midnight, and the twilight of indecision. Too many pains to bear.
How naive of him to think he could slip into the role of a regular being and live a normal life in love and peace.
Vash.
Vash the stampede with a dream.
The mere thought of it filled him with mortification. He began to think others were right when they said things like him were better off destroyed.
Shaking his head, he coughed against the torture in his lungs, heaving strange, horrible gasps until his whole body spasmed into submission, leaving him sitting on the bed's edge like a sack full of nothingness. The old gunman looked as if he might collapse, barely breathing, his life-force being torn asunder.
You felt like your throat was closing up. You knew the infamous humanoid typhoon was everything broken and glued back together, and now knives bore holes into his cracked bones, filled with grief that could take his breath away.
Your face was drained of color, your ears ringing with your heart pounding. His desperate screams from your nightmare echoed in your head as if on repeat. His agony was acute. His terror palpable. Tears sprung to your eyes. It was painful to look at him, being so close and far away from him.
"Local news. You know how dumb they are," you said, trying to hide your petrified and nerve-wracking thoughts from his reach. What if he never experienced peace? What if there was no sanctuary, and the pain was always a whisper away, no matter where he went?
Pressing your nails to your palm, you continued, "None of that incident was your fault. You know that too. You hear me?"
His eyes widened a little. No one had ever cared about him for this long. No one had kept him ever this closely to read his thoughts word by word. No one had ever treated him like a human being. Then again, he thought you didn't know about all of his sins. In a century and a half, he hadn't been able to forgive himself; how could you? It made him wonder how long you could endure him before running for your life.
His head was spinning, thoughts knocking into one another. He clenched his fists and pushed back down the misery that had stuck with him. Even though he didn't want this, you'd probably be better off without him.
"Vash?" You swallowed and dug your fingers into the sheets desperately, a tear trickling down your cheek. It kept hitting you in the face, in the skull, in the spine, this knowledge of just how much you loved him.
His lips looked like they were barely able to form words. He could only take these harsh gasps and wonder why his body hadn't given up.
On all fours, you approached him and sat on your knees on the edge of the bed with a slight distance between you and him. You knew he wouldn't object, but you didn't want to intrude on his privacy. Thus, you remained silent so that he wouldn't be left by himself, and he would know you wouldn't leave him alone.
09:15 am – July 21st
Time passed, and you checked on him occasionally to see if he wanted to talk until he raised his head slightly.
"I'm a demon," he said the sentence so quietly. So, so quietly. He ran a hand across his face, both hands through his hair, looking like he wanted to scream, to break something, like he was truly about to lose his mind. "The world sees me as a threat. An unfixable monster. An abomination. They want me dead." His voice sounded sorrowful, almost like he had already accepted these labels.
Thousand pieces of feeling stabbed you in the heart. "I don't think you're a demon. Also, I don't think you're some sick, twisted monster. I don't think you're a heartless killer, and I don't think you deserve to die. You're not a humanoid typhoon. No, you're not any of the things people have said about you," you told him, words tripping and stumbling out of you.
His mouth fell closed, struggling with some kind of emotion, struggling to find composure. Suddenly he gasped. "No." One broken word. Barely even a sound. He was shaking his head, looking away from you. He turned to face the window. "No. No, no—"
"Vash—"
"No," he said. His voice was so soft and so scared you could scarcely hear it. "No, you don't know what you're saying—"
"You're not a monster!" you said. "And I love you exactly as you are. I don't even want you to fix yourself; I don't think you need to be fixed. People here love you as you are. Your name is the only thing that scares them," you told him.
You knew people had the right to fear him. You knew. Humanoid Typhoon certainly wasn't made of sugar, spice, and everything nice, but rather from hurricanes, lightning, and all things that scared. Seeing dusty storms and raging winds, people thought he was scary. They feared he would harm them. In truth, he was only his own disaster, destroying himself for others. He was Vash. Your Vash. Vash the Stampede, and you loved him with all his fears and frights, dreams and nightmares, sins and scars.
You smiled and continued, "If they learn your name and start hunting you, we'll run away! We'll run, run, and keep running as far as we have to! And when things calm down, we'll settle by their side again. You won't kill. You'll never kill anyone again, and one day, people will begin seeing you as I do."
Maybe tears filled his eyes. Possibly his breath was trapped in his chest. Perhaps his heart warmed a little. No one knew, not even the author. He had his head down, his chest rising and falling.
You sat behind him. A map of pain had covered his entire back. Thick, thin, uneven, and terrible, scars like roads leading nowhere. There were bolts and ragged slices, marks of torture he was not protected from.
Kindness must be difficult when all you'd received was hatred. Being able to see goodness in the world must be so hard when your only experience had been terror. You wanted to say something to him. Something profound, complete, and memorable, but there was nothing suitable. This planet was a broken bone that didn't set right, and Vash wanted to glue it back together. Alone, all by himself.
You two differed in this respect. Fearless and unafraid were two different things. He was fearless. He dared to outshine the sun, stare down a bullet, kiss death and walk away with his back unguarded. He would hold the whole world in his palms despite its bone-crushing weight, despite its sharp edges crusted with blood, if only he could stop it from falling apart. But you? You were fearful. Sometimes you couldn't breathe around the clot of fear lodged in your throat. The only way to lessen its weight on your tongue was to scream until no words came out, while the only way to chase away its shadows was never to close your eyes at night. You were unafraid of one thing, though —he could tear down the world and bury you alive under the weight of his guilt, yet you would follow him without hesitation.
Your eyes rested upon woven strands of sunlight, alighting softly upon his scarred skin. These honeyed arcing rays gave him a light glimmer that revealed his plant patterns, pulsing slowly and dimly. Something about the scene was so divine, and you felt the dawn rise from your heart every morning and reach the sky.
You hugged him from behind by bridging the gap between your bodies and leaned your cheek against his sun-kissed back. Your hands gently caressed his stomach and chest as your lips left kisses on his love reminiscences—one by one.
You could hear him breathing in and out. Unevenly. Yet he was silent. Hands clenched, knuckles white. Of course, he wanted you with a desperate need he had never known. But his regret, sins, and crimes were so overwhelming they consumed him. He thought, how could you be so kind to a thing like him?
Unaware of the voices in his mind, you dropped a kiss on his spine. You kissed the curve of his shoulder. His shoulder blades. Five kisses down his spine, each softer than the other one. For every little moment of pain he had ever felt in his life, you wanted to make it all go away. You kissed his neck, trying to ignore the tension in his muscles, the ache spreading inside you, urging you to end his suffering.
Your words were heavy with sincerity when you said, "I don't care what everyone else thinks about you." You leaned your forehead to his shoulder, your breaths gently caressing his back. "Because you're the only good thing left in this world."
As his eyes widened, he breathed heavily, trying to gain control of himself. "What are you saying?" he asked, his hand caught in his hair. "How can you tell such a thing this after all this?" His hand pointed to the window, to the news on the radio.
Standing on your knees, you kissed the hand caught between his gold locks. The same hand he always tried to cover its scar with a glove. Because the idiot thought his scars would be repulsive. The idiot. Your favorite idiot.
You didn't sit back. Keeping your head there, your nose buried in his hair, and your chest pressed to his back—this smell. You had never seen a sea, but you had heard about them. And you believed if there was ever to be a sea in this hell hole, he would smell like a sunny beach. Sweet, enveloping, and warm.
"That is—" your voice broke when you spoke. "That's what the family is for, Vash."
A sudden searing heat flashed behind his eyes, and his heart leaped at your response. He dropped his hand on his knee and sat still in place by the weight of your words. His hand trembled, and his eyes were willing and wanting but filled with both sadness and happiness.
A family.
All this time, he thought you were with him all along because you didn't have a grasp on his sins, but now, he could see that you already knew everything. And despite all of this, you were still willing to forgive him and give him something he always wanted but never had without even requiring him to earn it or redeem himself.
You touched his arm and traced the tender skin with your fingertips. Scars everywhere. You kissed the back of his elbow. "I'm sorry for everything humans have done to you," you told him, and he took a shallow breath. "Forgive us." Another kiss. "Forgive me."
A delicate warmth filled Vash's heart and melted it into drops of warm honey that soothed the scars in his soul. He turned his head and stared at you with open, vulnerable eyes, a tight jaw, and tensed muscles. No one had ever apologized to him. According to his experience, he was usually the monster, the wicked one. The onus always was on him to make amends.
It stunned him how strange it felt. Up until now, he never thought he deserved forgiveness, let alone someone asking for it.
Running a tired hand across his face, he wasn't sure what to do with himself. A joy filled his heart, causing him to feel heavy with something he wasn't even sure he could describe.
Gratitude, perhaps.
The ache in his chest had grown more assertive, more painful. But for now, he didn't want to think about it. He simply just wanted to enjoy your proximity.
Your hand reached up to stroke the luminous curved shapes on his cheek, tracing them to the softness of the mole beneath his left eye. The look in those aquamarines breaking your heart. You couldn't bear to see his face covered in sorrow and guilt.
"You're a good man, my Vash," you said, your words soft, your hand gentle as you tilted his chin up toward your mouth. He was blinking fast, yet not denying. You whispered words on his lips that no one had ever spelled out for him. "Rem would've been proud of you," you told him, watching the movement in his throat and his effort to keep it together. It didn't take you long to kiss him once, tenderly.
He found himself at a loss for words, opting to convey his emotions through touch instead as he melded his lips with yours. He sighed into your mouth, and you kissed him even more deeply, almost desperately, as if trying to pass over your breaths to him. You could taste the salt on your tongue. The wet drops falling on your cheeks made your flesh burn. You were uncertain whose they were as you continued to try and cling to him.
10:00 am – July 21st
The sheets slowly slipped and fell to the floor as Vash pulled you into his arms, clutching you tight, hardly able to breathe. When he exhaled and looked at you again, there were stories in his eyes, thoughts, whispers, and feelings of things you had never seen before. His whole body seemed to be relaxed in relief. He looked like he was hanging on his sanity by a single, fraying thread. You.
And you promised yourself, at this moment, that you would hold him forever, just like this, until all the pain, the torture, and the suffering was gone, until he'd given a chance to live the kind of life where no one could ever hurt him this deeply ever again.
He touched your cheek. Soft, as if he wasn't sure if you were real. His four fingers caressed the side of your face gently before they slipped behind your neck, caught in that in-between spot below your ear, and his thumb brushed the apple of your cheek, then grazing your bottom lip.
You did so much with these lips, you thought. Touched, kissed, and pressed them against tender parts of his skin. You made promises, and the words they formed, the shapes and sounds they curved around, all for him.
Vash moved closer by just an inch. His free metallic hand cupped the other side of your face. He was holding you like you were made of crystals. Holding you and looking at his own hands, he couldn't believe you were real.
Gone was the man with guns and bullets. These hands treasuring you had never held a weapon. They were perfect and kind, never touched by death. He took your hands and pressed your palms to his face. Tears must have welled up in your eyes when you closed them.
You whispered his name, and he breathed harder than you.
Could this be a dream?
You shook, shuddered, splintered into teardrops, and he held you like no one had before. He wanted you. Seeing him cling to you as he might never let go did something to you, something heady, knowing that he might wish you, or need you, like this, made you want to protect him even though he didn't need your protection.
Gently, he stroked your hair and pressed his lips to your forehead. Gradually, his arms became the arms around your waist; his lips became the lips pressed against yours, his body the warmth you felt.
You weren't even breathing, but you were alive, and he was kissing you. Deeply, desperately. The palms of his hands were rubbing the small of your back as he lifted you into his lap. Your legs automatically wrapped around his hips, allowing him to kiss your neck, throat, and nipples.
You broke apart with his small licks here and there, breathing hard, and stared at him like a bonehead, your brain still too numb to figure out exactly how you two got here.
Tilting his head to a side, he pressed his lips against yours again, seeking you with a burning need, a new kind of desperation. His hands were threaded in your hair, his lips so soft, so urgent against yours, like fire and cinnamon exploding in your mouth.
Vash nibbled your bottom lip in a flash and pulled back just a little bit. Your body was flooded with heat and desire so intense you could hardly think when he parted his lips from you to sigh in your mouth, and that slight sound of pleasure drove you crazy.
Putting one hand under your neck, placing his mouth on your breast, and running his fingers down your back, he pressed your body closer, only to find something hard pressing against your groin.
Oh.
Well.
While he avoided your gaze, he smiled sheepishly and tentatively touched your thighs with his hands. Because of what had happened, you knew he would probably feel embarrassed to ask for it, but that didn't mean you wouldn't give it to him. He deserved the whole world if you had the chance to provide for him. His markings were glowing softly when you squeezed him closer to yourself, holding him tighter.
Biting his lip and stifling his groan, his smart-ass hands slid up your legs and into your thighs. Soon, his lips reached your chest. Your body ached everywhere, tasting colors and sounds you didn't even know existed. His forehead was pressed against your chin, and your hands gripped his shoulders. He was hot, gentle, and somehow in a hurry.
You were beyond the reach of rational thoughts. Beyond words, beyond comprehension. The world was beyond understanding because nothing could ever compare with this. Nothing could ever capture the way you were feeling right now. Nothing mattered anymore. You were left with only this moment: his mouth on your body, his hands on your skin, and his lust deep in his eyes, making you absolutely insane.
Your wetness was no longer a secret when he surrounded you everywhere. As he watched you, you reached down and adjusted his length against your slippery entrance over a few strokes. His pulse could be felt in your palm and soon inside of you.
Using both soft and hard hands, he gently grasped your hips and pulled you down toward him. As he entered, you gasped, every time surprised at his size, clinging desperately to his neck as he hitched your legs around his waist, his prosthetic arm settling beneath your thigh. You loved the feeling of him stretching you. You loved having him this close to you. You loved the way he manhandled you. You loved his hand around your neck and the little squeeze of his fingers around your nape.
His grip tightened when he sensed you were ready for him, and he started moving you up and down. You cried out and leaned your cheek to his nose, dying and somehow being brought back to life in the same moment, in the same breath.
Fuck! You were full of him.
He lifted your thighs, and you bit back the moan stuck in your throat. His mouth wouldn't let go of your skin, kissing you with an intensity that made you wonder why you hadn't died, caught on fire, or woken up from this dream yet. Then he returned his hands to your face and kissed you once, twice.
The room's silence was filled with your heavy breathing, your chest against Vash's. Your pulses hammered against each other. You felt his arms around you become unbearably tight as he yanked you up and down with even more force than before, hitting you in a place he seemed to know too well.
As his teeth caught your bottom lip momentarily, you pushed your nails to his shoulder, running your fingers through his hair to pull him into your mouth. He tasted so sweet. So hot and sweet. You kept trying to say his name, but you couldn't even breathe, much less say a single word.
The pace increased slightly; each thrust was hard, deliberate, wringing gasps, whimpers, and long, rolling moans from you.
Your eyes tingled with tears, falling fast down, traveling quietly down your cheeks, and he cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs two parentheses in your mouth, against your tongue and saliva. As if he had found Adam's ale between million mirages of the desert, he stared at you, his eyes like fire in the water.
"I love you," he whispered over and over, his voice fragile, uneven. His lips covered yours in a tender kiss. He kissed you and tasted your tears, the lingering flavor of pleasure laced in your mouth. He kissed you and kissed you until time toppled over, and your head spun into oblivion.
Vash loved you…
His temple was leaned against yours when you took his earlobe between your teeth, stripped him to his bones, and ruined him from the inside out. Your sweet little tongue was frantic when you whispered, "I'm yours to love."
Hearing your words, he held still for moments, sucking in the air because he felt almost dizzy with satisfaction, running his hands over your thighs.
You. You were his. You, the one who knew if you left him alone at that moment, would fall into the depths of his own hell; if he'd slipped through your fingers, he would be gone, and no one could bring him back. You did not erase all his pain or offer to solve all his problems. You didn't fix everything that was broken, but that wasn't what he needed anyway. What mattered the most was that you stayed.
He loved you.
He loved you so much.
Grasping your soft hips, he buried his face against your shoulder and sped up. You were his undoing, taking him apart and putting him back together differently, better, and more himself than he ever could have been. He gritted his teeth as his orgasm came barreling at him. His hands glided on your back when you shuddered, your inner walls squeezing him so hard he couldn't prevent his release. With a growl, he thrust wildly, once, twice—and then everything around you both disappeared until it was all just colors and light, the sun shines and oceans, apple trees, and blossoms.
Your eyes were still closed, and you felt his hands laced with yours, just to remind you that you had him here and that he was with you. Your partner in everything. His chest heaving, he buried his face in your neck, sweat covering his temples. Kissing him there, you inhaled the scent of his hair.
"You're my family too," you heard him whisper, his words etched into your soul as his lips moved against your skin. And you wished, more than ever, that you could capture moments like this and relive them forever.
12:50 pm – July 21st
You woke up with a smile, your skin still hot from the memory of your vile. You were cleaned with a wet towel, placed in bed with a kiss, and promptly fell asleep. Thankfully, no nightmares this time.
What time was it? You didn't know.
As you stretched your legs under the sheets, you realized your back was against Vash, his prosthetic arm resting on your pillow, the other tucked around your waist. Knowing he had held you this close warmed the pit of your stomach and made you feel so safe that you didn't ever want to move, but you had a thousand things to do today, but you never, ever wanted to move.
Truth be told, you loved these moments the most. The quiet contentment. Being enveloped by his naked body. You never felt closer to him than you did like this when there was nothing between you.
Today was a big day delayed by your nightmare and the sound of that stupid radio! There was no way you were going to let anything overshadow his birthday anymore. Even for a few hours, he deserved this celebration, this little distraction. He deserved to be happy, eat, and laugh.
You sighed, hating to wake him up since he seemed pretty tired. Slowly, you turned around in his arms. A smile tugged at your mouth as you watched him, amazed at how his presence could bring you such peace. He shifted again, burrowing deeper into the pillows, and you realized he must be exhausted.
Watching the movement of his throat, you breathed him in, running your hands along the deep, strong lines of muscle in his arm. His entire being felt raw. Powerful. Being a plant had something wild and terrifying about it; somehow, this knowledge only made you love him more. You traced the contours of his shoulder blades, then his spine. He stirred, but only briefly, and buried his face in your hair.
"Don't go," he whispered softly, pressing his nose to your scalp alongside his lips.
You tilted your head, gently kissing the column of his throat. "Vash," you whispered. "I'm not going anywhere."
Taking a deep breath, he said, "good."
You smiled. "Oh, but we should probably get out of bed. I promised Rosalina I'll help—"
A disapproving sound escaped his throat as he shook his head, deftly helping you turn around. He hugged you close again, your back pressed against his chest. Soft and husky, his voice was full of desire when he said, "C'mon, let me enjoy this. Feeling good."
"You don't want a cake?" you blurted out, but it certainly caught his attention.
You could feel he raised his head, stiffened and confused. "How come Rosalina's making me a cake?"
Did you hear correctly? Had he forgotten about his birthday? Did this day become neglected to the point where it was forgotten?
Turning around, you saw he was sitting, his body frozen and his heart probably pounding furiously. Getting him to attend his birthday would take more effort than you expected. Because he asked how you could possibly plan a party for him, why anyone would throw him a party, what if he didn't even like birthday parties, and so on. Still, you didn't fall short. Since the day he told you about Rem making them a cake for their birthday, you kept track of his birthday. The July incident wasn't going to overshadow his birthday. It was your vow to replace that memory with better ones. That forever and ever, you'd strive to drown out the darkness that had ruined his life.
In his eyes, tragedy and beauty could be seen, a stoicism that wouldn't be shaken, and childlike joy that couldn't help but flow. When he swallowed, you noticed the gentle movement in his throat and moved your hand to his ear, your pinkie touching his earring, then tracing down his jawline. You didn't receive a rejection, but you didn't receive a yes, either. Why wasn't he saying anything? He had you on your worried until he clasped his hands over his face.
Your hand brushed against his undercut as you gently kissed his temple and tried to pry his hands away from his face. "Vash?" you said, your words hardly a whisper. "Is everything alright?"
The reply took him a few seconds to come out, but when he finally did, he nodded. It was only once, but it was enough. "Yeah," he said softly. "I'm okay."
The feeling of relaxation washed over you as you exhaled. "If you don't want a—"
He held and squeezed your hand as he looked at you, his eyes round when he said, a little nervously, "what have I done," he whispered, his voice trembling, "to deserve you?"
Did you die of joy? Because he took your face in his hands and kissed you so passionately, it blew your mind. Your heart began to beat violently, and you didn't recognize yourself. You didn't recognize your hands, your bones, your heart. You felt new. "Thank you," he whispered. "For loving me and everything."
"It's very, very easy to love you, Vash," your lips might have said, but the words never left your lips. You didn't know what to do, so you reeled him in, kissed him, and lost yourself in his taste and feel, in the fantasy of what you might have. What you might be.
But wait! Didn't you know fate was a jealous, vicious mistress that never ever slept?
You blinked.
You blinked again, but this time for too long. You saw a flash of blood spewing inside your open mouth. Nausea returned with a swiftness that scared you. A breath was drawn, your fingers fluttering as you desperately tried pressing them against your stomach. Pain filled your eyes as you kept them open. Clenching your fists, you attempted to control spiraling thoughts.
However, nothing helped. Nothing helped. Nothing, you thought. Nothing, nothing, and nothing.
Where was Vash? Where were you?
Throughout your open eyes, terror oozed from your heart. You heard someone calling your name. A hand brushed lightly along your spine as you shivered suddenly at the unexpected sensation.
" …," the voice said, "do you … ?"
The warmth moved in only to meet the coldness of your skin. You felt it all. Again and again, a touch of his finger did pull you out of your nightmare.
A rustle of sheets caught your attention, and Vash pulled you onto his lap. Straddling him, your legs stretched across the rumpled fabric. Wrapping his arm around you, he spread his hand along your back.
It was just a dream. It was just a dream. It was just a dream.
Turning carefully in the cradle of his arms, you pressed your forehead to his bare chest, your eyelashes fluttering against his rough gash.
"You okay?" he asked, his metallic fingers combing through your hair in a soothing act.
"Yes," you replied, forcing air into your lungs. You were breathing hard, head spinning as you held on to him. "Yes."
"Is something wrong, Elay?" He probably had lowered his head because his breath was touching your shoulder.
"Nothing," you claimed. Your heart was beating fast, too fast. You didn't know why you were lying. You should have just told him, but you didn't know why you weren't.
Wait.
Actually, you knew.
You were waiting.
You were waiting to see if this shit would pass. It had to, because today was a special day. Because you were already exhausted, and the radio's sound was repeating in your ears. Because you didn't want to add another burden to his shoulders with your silly nightmare. Even more, it wasn't real. Just a figment of your imagination, and saying it out loud would make it sound more real than it really was.
Vash asked no further questions. He was more of an "if you love someone, let them keep their secrets to themselves " guy. He pulled you close, and you melted into him, grateful for his warmth and steady hold. You took a deep, shuddering breath and let it all go, exhaling against him. A faint aroma of caramel lingered in your nostrils as you breathed in his skin's rich, heady scent. The minutes passed silently as you both listened to each other breathe.
01:45 pm – July 21st
It took a while, but your heart rate steadied.
You could feel it.
Here.
This.
Your bones against his bones. This was your home.
"What're you thinking?" His lips touched your neck, a graze that sparked, hot and cold, right down to your toes.
"Been thinking about you." You raised your head and looked at him. He was smiling, the unfaltering sun glinting in his eyes. You could see his fear, hopes, and love for you like a mirror to his soul in those mountain lake-colored spheres. Then there was something else as well—something like bliss. It was a faint glow, but it was there and made you so happy. You had blessed the blessing. He deserved happiness after everything he had been through. After all the horrors he had suffered alone.
"Me?"
As you closed the gap between you two again, you nodded against his chest. Nothing was said, but you could hear his heart racing until he exhaled. It was a heavy, uneven sound, as if he might have been holding his breath for too long.
Gently, you ran your hand along his back. "How long has it been since you celebrated your birthday?" you whispered.
"Hm?" He buried his face in your hair, and his nose glided over your scalp in what appeared to be caressing movements.
It didn't take a genius to figure out when he was ducking a question. You wiggled a little to loosen his grip and looked up. Your fingers ran through the soft, silky strands. The sight of him mesmerized you. His eyes were wide and bright. His lips soft and pale. He was perfect, bare, and beautiful, holding you in his arms. Sighing, you closed your eyes. "Let me ask it this way then," you said, "How many birthdays have you missed so far?"
Nothing came out of his mouth for what seemed like an eternity. You felt him finally move. In a gentle caress, his prosthetic fingers touched your face. "150 birthdays," he whispered, his voice uneven.
Your spine tingled involuntarily. 150 years of solitude. Loneliness. Alone with himself. On this giant planet. Where was his home? Where were his friends? His lovers?
You knew he was so much better at being alone as if being alone came more naturally. He led a life of deliberate seclusion, and when occasional loneliness crept in, he knew how to sink in and absorb its particular comforts or work his way out. After all, there were always bars and saloons and strangers around.
You knew he wanted to carry the weight of life all alone, even the burden of those he once loved. It wasn't fair, though. You had to be allowed to help him carry it all. A frown formed on your face, and you inhaled, "Happy birthday #1! Happy birthday #2! Happy birthday #3!..."
His metallic forefinger stopped your lips. Slowly, you looked up to meet his eyes. His expression was sad, sweet, and filled with love. You felt something thawed inside of you as you stared at him.
"You don't have to do this," he said as he separated his finger from your lips to brush away stray strands of hair from your face. A part of you wished his finger could stay there longer.
"Shut up and let yourself celebrate! We've got at least 150 birthdays to catch up on!"
He kissed your eye, and you felt his smile on your eyelid. His lips started moving tardily when he said, "I don't—"
"Shhhh! Since you interrupted me, I'm starting over!" you snapped and continued, "Happy birthday #1! Happy birthday #2! …"
The smile on his face grew bigger and bigger, as if he was filled with so much joy that he hardly recognized himself. You couldn't recall the last time he smiled this much. It was the most pure, unburdened bliss you had ever experienced.
He held you the entire time you felicitated all his forgotten birthdays. You could see it in how he looked at you. You could feel his fears disappearing and his emotions becoming something else. Now, his touch was hot and electric against your skin. Your heart was beating faster and harder, and he didn't have to say anything. You could feel the temperature change between you.
"You," he said, staring at your mouth. He touched his nose to yours, and something inside you jolted to life. You heard your breath caught, your ears turning red, unbidden. "I love you," he whispered.
The words did something to you every time you heard them. They built something new inside of you. You swallowed hard. A fire consumed your mind. "You know," you mumbled shyly, "It never gets old hearing you say that."
Leaning you back a little, he moved, his nose brushed the line of your jaw, and his lips touched your throat. You were holding your breath, terrified to move, to leave this moment.
"I love you," he said again.
Heat filled your veins. You could feel him in your blood, his whispers overwhelming your senses.
"Vash," you said. You wanted to talk to him about what happened hours ago. You knew you should've moved and snapped out of this but couldn't. You couldn't think. And then his hand brushed against your breasts. You breathed quickly, fighting against a sudden rush of pleasure.
It was impossible to pretend anything when he was this close to you. You knew he could feel how badly you wanted him. You could feel him, too. His heat. His desire. He made no secret of what he wanted from you. What he wanted you to do to him.
He kissed you softly, wrapping his arms around you, one too cold, the other too hot. Your body shifted forward in his embrace as you took another painful, agonizing breath.
"I know you're worried," he said, his lips too close to yours and his hot breath in your mouth. "I know we have to talk, but—" He never finished that sentence. He kissed you as he reached down, trailing his fingers along the inner parts of your thighs, and the movement seared through you. Your vision went white. You heard nothing but the pounding of your heart, then you remembered.
"Vash? Um-I have to-ah," you panted, "she is waiting."
You could feel his smile as he whispered the word in your ear. His fingers were teasing your groins. "Please." And you were gone.
One hand kept your head steady, the other roamed around your loins, and he kissed and melted you. Your eyes met his, and the feeling threatened to drown you. He kissed you, and every thought and worry wicked away, replaced by the feel of his mouth against your skin, his hand claiming your body.
Holy Molly!
He eft his kisses everywhere like he knew, like he knew how desperately you needed this, needed him, needed this comfort and release.
Like he needed it, too.
Taking hold of his neck, you raised yourself up to kiss his nose, cheeks, and lips. The line of your bodies was welded together. You felt yourself dissolving, becoming pure emotion as he parted his lips, teased you, and breathed into your mouth. "I love you," he said, gasping the words.
He kissed the top of your shoulder, and his artificial hand wandered over your body, down your back, cupping your back side, lingering on your upper thighs like he wanted to memorize the shape of you, always leaving you in awe of how gentle he was. Your muscles tightened with longing, and you were surprised at how much you wanted him.
Again.
So soon.
However, you had to stop this.
"I'd better get dressed," you said, pulling yourself back, grabbing sheets, and covering yourself with them. "I've got stuff to do."
A grin spread across his face as he watched you as if he could sense your frustration. You crawled from his lap, the bedsheets catching under your knees and making you lose your composure. Like a sneaky fox, he couldn't resist taking advantage of the moment. He yanked the rest of the sheet away from you and tucked you underneath him. His weight pinned you to the mattress, a knee intentionally jammed between your legs and slowly grinding you down.
"Here's what I want for my birthday," he said, kissing your parted lips. He knew what he was doing and knew you couldn't comprehend his words. "I have this idea. Just hear me out; I think that maybe you should consider being naked all the time. I mean, just always. Okay?"
"Okay. I have to—" What were you saying? He had his mouth all over you, sucking at your breasts, licking your throat, his fingers going straight to your sensitive spots.
The moment he got there, you knew you wouldn't let him go, even if he wanted to. So, you needed to gather your wits and act before it was too late.
Think. Think. Think.
"Vash!" you gasped, pushing him up with your hand as much as possible. "I know you're going nuts like a hunk in heat," you said, holding his cheeks between your hands and staring at his big downturned eyes. "I gotta shower and go to the saloon so you can meet me there at eight, okay, good boy?" You tapped on his shoulder.
With raised eyebrows, Vash got off you, but you remained trapped between his knees. Although he crossed his arms and pretended to be mad, you could see him fighting back a smile. It was amazing how that poor piece of sheet managed to cover his hips; otherwise, you wouldn't have been able to focus on his face.
"You were going to take a shower without me?" he said sternly.
You couldn't figure out what to say for a moment and then carefully asked, "would you like to join me?"
Considering your offer, he gazed at you, up and down, with a sweet, secret smile. The look in his eyes was enough to persuade you to agree to anything. You would do anything for this man if he asked. Even if he didn't bother to ask.
"Vash."
Your heart was heavy as you whispered his name, filled with emotion. You went still as he hovered over you, gently mouthing your nipples. His kisses grow more intent, leaving a trail of fire across your chest, down your torso, and rushing through your veins.
Suddenly, you forgot why you were even in such a hurry.
Your hands slipped around his neck, and you reeled him in. He felt incredible against you, his body fitting perfectly. You tilted his face up, your hand caught somewhere behind his neck and the base of his jaw, and you kissed him softly and slowly, heat filling your blood with dangerous speed.
As one hand held him steady, the other skimmed the smooth skin of your waist, gripping your hip hard. He parted your legs with his thigh, hearing you make a desperate sound deep in your throat, and it did something to him, to feel and hear you like that, to be assaulted by your pleasure and desire. It drove him crazy.
Vash buried his face in your neck, and his hand moved up to feel your breasts' tender skin, hot, soft, and sensitive to his touch. He wanted your body under his hands, the scent of your skin, and the light whisper of your hair against his. Licking your earlobes, he tried to ignore the strain in his muscles and the hard, desperate pressure driving him towards you, toward madness.
An ache was expanding inside you and demanding more, craving him to flip you over and lose yourself in you. You clung to him, your eyes half-lidded, your face flushed. Your breathes were heavy when you said, "take me, Vash."
His eyes widened, and he stared at you like he might be going deaf and blind at the same time, hunching over from the effort of inhaling and exhaling. He said nothing and only looked at you carefully from the top, drinking you in. His pulse was wild, his mind racing. There was no way he could refuse you.
02:50 pm - July 21st
Vash stepped aside, and you pushed the sheets away when he asked you to get up. Soon you were standing in the middle of the room as he had demanded.
He couldn't look away from you and probably couldn't even hear himself think over his heart beating fast like a thud against his skull. Pinning you against the closest wall, he kissed you wild enough for you never to forget why he was called the stampede. His fingers touched every everywhere. Every bend and arc. Every pit and hole. Leaving gentle slaps and smacks on the soft skin of yours.
It was lovely to feel your soft curves against his rough edges, and somehow, the paradox between the smoothness of your bodies pressed against each other made the scene even more surreal. In order not to miss any precious time, he picked you up, and you gasped, shocked, and scrambled to hold on for dear life. He pushed the bathroom door aside with his shoulder and carried you into the shower.
He needed you. Needed this. Now. You could see it in his eyes, in the upward arch of his erection.
He drew a deep, unsteady breath before switching the tap on.
A short scream tore through your throat.
You two got soaked in cold water as he pressed your front against the shower wall, losing himself in you like never before. His kisses were more profound, more desperate, and his hands less considerate than before. The heat more explosive, and everything between you wild, raw, and vulnerable. His mouth devoured you. He had his lips all over your body, his tongue tasting new places.
With the cold tiles touching your breasts, a sensation of pleasure spread throughout your entire body. You could feel it, the bottom half of your body urging you to press against him more deeply and fully. He had to hear the pleas of every cell in your body because his next thrust was so intense that you had to hold on to the wall with your palms to steady yourself while your cheeks pressed more and more against the cold ceramic as he had his way with you.
You lost track of time.
You had no idea how long you had been here. You didn't know how long he had gone haywire in you. Your knees were starting to shake when he turned you around, and your eyes fell on his soaked hair sticking to his forehead and clumping eyelashes blinking slowly. You considered yourself lucky for not only seeing such a marvel but also tasting him and feeling him.
With such hunger, he kissed your lips like he hadn't had them in years. You felt the hard tiles press against your back as he pushed himself inside, without hesitating to move up and down. Over and over again, you were lauded, his panting echoing within four walls.
So many times that you wanted to open your mouth to protest, but every time he took one turgid nipple into his mouth. Heat surged through your blood as his teeth scraped over the end of one, and you moaned instead of complaining. You couldn't stop thinking about how good it felt to feel him inside you, his tongue twirling around your other breast.
The pressure was built. You were consumed by the need to reach the climax in every action. Your stomach muscles were tightening and quivering.
He moved his hands from your hips to your head, tangles of wet hair wrapping around his fingers as he pulled you upwards for a kiss. His tongue immediately thrust past your lips, and he increased his speed.
God! Nothing had ever tasted as good as Vash, you thought. Sensual, decadent, the flavor of him slipped through you.
His hands clenched tighter in your hair, and his teeth bit the flesh of your neck, but you barely noticed, barely caring about the hickey it would leave as he threw back his head, groaning your name. The sight of him in the throes of his peak drove you to the edge, your inner muscles clamping around his hardness, pulling him in deeper.
You cried out, clutching his shoulders so tightly that your fingernails dug into his skin, and your screams were muffled against his chest. The plunk of shower water running between your feet could be heard as your body shook, and he leaned his forehead against your head.
His hot released load was dripping and sliding down on your thighs when you collapsed into his arms, feeling weak and unsteady. He held you close to himself, tight yet so gentle, stroking your wet hair with his fingers and leaving small pecks wherever he could reach. "We should eat something," he said, kissing the curve of your shoulder and the sides of your neck.
You were intoxicated by the pure, stunning power of his emotions, endless waves of love and desire, love and kindness, love and joy, love and tenderness.
So much tenderness.
You pressed your cheek against his chest and held him as he braced himself against the wall. Your bodies were wet and heavy with feeling, your hearts pounding with something more powerful than you had ever imagined possible.
Water was dripping from the mess of his hair. So gorgeous, you thought. Then you forgot where you were and what you were going to do. Your arms and limbs trembled slightly, and he was too terrified to let you go.
Too in love to let you go.
07:15 pm - July 21st
As night fell, the blue haze of the day lifted and revealed the stars brightening the sky, shining like beams of happiness, appearing still as an old photograph. The wind blew Vash's hair into a tousled bun.
He walked out of his favorite shop and leaned against the wall with a big bag of donuts and an even bigger smile. Yeah, he perfectly knew he would eat cake, but eating donuts had nothing to do with it: a warm-up, just appetizers.
His eyes followed the long shadows of townies milling around under the flickering lamppost lights, even though he couldn't make out any faces from such afar. He liked this town. It was so small that his typhoon hadn't yet found it. Or maybe because he was a stranger here. Nobody knew him, and everybody was safe from the curse his name carried around.
Everybody but you.
You already had been spelled by those fifteen letters.
V-A-S-H-T-H-E-S-T-A-M-P-E-D-E
Taking a look around, he tried to find a clock on a building or something. The birthday boy didn't want to be late. This and, of course, the words you uttered before you left the house:
"Eight o'clock, Vash. Don't forget! Don't be late! Don't be early and wear that white shirt. See you there!"
He sighed and took a donut from the bag, careful not to stain his white shirt with his clumsiness. It smelled great. What a heavenly aroma, smelling like honey. This and you and this town. It sure felt good to see happy people around.
Without further ado, he took a bite of his sugar-coated donut.
He expected it to taste incredible and super tasty, like being alive, but he couldn't feel it. There was a sense of numbness in him. The weight of an unknown worry was heavy against his heart.
A muffled whistle-like sound echoed in the distance, followed by several. Another shot rang out, this time sounding like it was meant. Suffocating silence, creaking doors, and screams that tore the sky open.
He felt strangely dull, as if his connection with his body had been cut off. The bag fell to the ground, and the donuts scattered around. People were crying, weeping, but all he could hear was the wind's wails in his ears, slapping sharply against his face.
He took uncertain steps forward. The area outside the saloon looked like more than a graveyard. It was worse than he had expected. There were injured people everywhere; some collapsed on the ground.
From where he stood, he counted two men, one woman, and a child dead. Open eyes, mouths agape, fresh blood still dripping down limp bodies. Where were you? Something about that realization struck fear into his veins.
The horrifying possibilities flashed through his mind. His mind was blank as to what had happened. Were you okay?
Vash looked over the crowd, still staring, waiting for you to show up. Waiting for you to find him. But you weren't anywhere to be found. In the chaos, he ran from one to another, people scattered around, and he didn't see you. The terror of this moment kicked him in the gut.
So many thoughts were tangled in his head that he couldn't untie the insanity. He glanced back at the doors you were supposed to come out, opening it with a smile.
He waited. He waited longer than was reasonable. Then he called you. Quietly at first, then louder. He shouted your name. His chest was being torn apart by fear, squeezing his heart. A part of him was afraid to speak the words aloud, fearful of making them true.
His legs felt like they had been formed from fresh clay, like he was moving through a fog. His voice reached everyone, pleading this time, running forward until the doors were in his line of sight.
"Is she in?" he asked, but no one answered. Everybody was frozen by the agony of the moment. All that could be heard were silent weeps and the wind howling.
Vash gulped, his throat all dry, and walked in; his lips parted, his eyes wide and horrified. The blood in his veins all ice.
Pain.
It began at his feet, bloomed up his legs, unfurled in his stomach, and worked its way up to his throat, only to explode behind his eyes. The sudden scream ripped itself from his lungs. It wrenched free from his chest without warning, without permission, and it was a scream so loud, so hard and violent, it broke his back. His hands were pressed against his knees, his head half bent.
Echoes of his misery would never be lost in the wind or carried away by the clouds but would always live between these walls. Forever.
His voice was unfamiliar to him. The horror, shock, and dread that flooded his body was something he had never felt — never known before, not like this.
The popped balloons on the walls. A half-ruined cake on the counter. Blood-stained confetti all around. A shoeless foot lying on the floor. Locks of tousled hair slipped from the makeshift shroud.
The numbness was now merciful, at least for a few moments. Then, everything crashed.
Vash fell next to the body. The knowledge rushed up in him, choking off his breath. Another scream tore its way out. Then another, and another. It felt as if his very essence had been ripped from him.
He pulled you into his arms, clutching you tightly, barely able to breathe. His fingers seized your hair and yanked it from your face. The golden strands of his hair fell onto your bloody face. You were called over and over, but it didn't seem like anything more than a sound. His pleas were like commands, begging you to open your eyes, but you ignored them as if playing a nasty prank.
Vash held both of your hands in his. There was no touch. All he felt was an empty coldness. The silence grew even louder, consuming him like a pitch-black shadow. Biting his lip, he tasted a faint metallic taste on his tongue. The desperation in his expression, the grief carved into his features, the way he looked at you as if he were about to pass the gates of hell and utter his last farewell.
Suddenly, he wanted to laugh one of those strange, high-pitched, delusional laughs that marked the end of sanity. Because this world, he thought, had a terrible sense of humor. It always seemed to mock him, making his life more miserable and ruining his dreams by destroying everything he ever loved.
You were dead. This pain was truly real.
Vash broke apart. Sobs cracked open his chest and cried until the pain spiraled and peaked; he bawled until his head throbbed and his eyes swelled. His fingers dug into your back as he called, desperate for a sign of hope. Your hollow body was clutched to his heart, and he felt the injustice roared through him. The feeling fractured him apart. His forehead pressed against your cheek, and his mouth trembled as he whispered, "C-Come ba-ck." The words fell apart. He could only mumble stuttering sounds.
He kissed your knuckles briefly. Would you have blushed if you were still breathing, whining about how cheesy he was being? He could only imagine your reactions now.
Hot tears streamed down his face, and he squeezed his eyelids shut in an effort to make them stop. He sat there unmoving for quite some time with choppy breathing and watery eyes.
09:00 pm - July 21st
Things were in a state of disarray in his vision. People were coming in with dropped shoulders and muffled weeps in the air. Someone approached and touched his shoulder for comfort, and a fierce unknown rage emerged in him. He could kill the man there but would have to let go of you, and he couldn't.
Vash turned his face back and held you so tightly like you would be able to feel the faint beat of his heart. He wept, cradling you, and he wouldn't move nor speak a word other than your name. It was like seeing the sun through the water. His tears fell, but you wouldn't be able to kiss them away this time.
"How dare you mourn her!" Someone bent over him. "You killed her!" Weak fists landed on his back but hurt him more than torture and shots. "She died because of you! You bring misfortune and destruction everywhere you go!" yelled Rosalina with a devastated voice.
Words, he thought, were such unpredictable creatures. No gun, knife, army, or enemy could ever be more powerful than a sentence. Blades may cut and kill, but words would stab and stay, burying into the future, digging and failing to rip his skeletons from his flesh. These weren't nice things to say. Not now. Not after what he was going through. Not when his white shirt was covered in your blood, and his hands burned with the bit of warmth left in your body.
Vash continued to hold you, silent and steady, even as the tears receded, even when he began to tremble. He had you tight as his body shook, held you close when the tears started anew, held you in his arms, and stroked your hair, whispering, "Forgive me. Forgive me. Forgive me." His voice was a terrible thing, cracked and broken.
He felt guilty. Anyone who got close to him was doomed to die. He thought his actions and inactions always took away his loved ones. Oh, stubborn, stubborn Vash! Of course, he would blame himself for something that had nothing to do with him.
The once happy eyes of Rosalina spilled hot tears on his shirt. "For two years, you lived among us, looked into our eyes every day, and lied about who you are, Vash the Stampede!"
Several gasps were heard from the crowd, followed by whispers filling the air.
Vash the stampede was here.
Chaos.
Questions flew, and weeps were muffled. Everyone was shocked, horrified, freaking out. You had long been forgotten, he thought.
"Is he the most wanted Vash the Stampede?"
"Were there raids in the saloon because of him?"
"The bounty hunters were after the money on his head?"
"They shot us and ran away because of this man?"
"This guy really had us fooled!"
"Is this true?"
Vash's reality was too broken, too distracted to process these kinds of talks. This horrible instant was one mess of insanity in his mind. He couldn't make any sense of it. He didn't answer a word to anyone and just stroked your cold cheek with as much gentleness as he could.
Someone shouted, "What's the hell's the matter with you? Say something. At least make some excuse!"
"Shame on you for bringing danger to our town!"
"We've heard enough of your crying!"
"At least have the decency and go die like a man!"
"No normal human being could cause all these horrible things! He had to be a monster! Who else could have been responsible?"
"Did you feel some of the pain of people who died because of your reckless behaviors?"
He was dying, he thought. He must be. He thought he knew what death was like, but he must have been wrong because this was a whole different kind of dying—a whole different kind of pain.
"That girl died protecting this demon?"
"She knew about the humanoid typhoon all this time." The man gulped and pointed at your dead body. "Our loved ones are dead and hurt because of her stupid devotion to this walking disaster!"
The scene was quite unbelievable, horrifying. His mind reeled, incapable of comprehending or processing what he was hearing. Everything in him came to a halt while his thoughts caught up. It was for him that you died. The shock brought a quietness, a moment to gird his soul for what would come. Truth poured gasoline on the spark of denial in his belly, burning him alive. It fashioned itself into a knife and stabbed him in the eye. And the funny thing was, he didn't want to do anything to stop it. Anguish was all that remained of you; he embraced it with all he was. He deserved it. So he bled with a smile on his face, wishing the pain to end him this time.
"If that self-righteous whore had revealed his whereabouts, not only would she be alive now, but the others wouldn't be dead either!"
Blackness seemed to press against his eyes, ears, and throat. He couldn't breathe, hear, or see clearly, and the suffocation of the moment was so terrifying that he was almost sure he had lost his mind.
How many insults can one person take before throwing in the fucking towel? For him, that number was infinite, but for you, he wouldn't allow even one.
He stood up and grabbed a fistful of the man's shirt. He pointed a gun at the infamous criminal, but Vash ripped the gun out of his hand. "What did you say about her?" he asked with a voice like a rusty saw that wanted to cut the bone. His jaw was clenched, and his eyes were burning in absolute rage. Nobody had seen him like this. Not once. People were so used to his calm and kind demeanor that this side of him scared them. If they wanted a typhoon, they'd get one. He was fortified with a new kind of anger, a desperate, animal intensity that overpowered him and forced him to stand still.
The man was trembling in his grip. "N-nothing," he finally said. Vash's pulse was racing, breathing heavily, almost like he would burst. The muscles in his hand tensed, causing him to crack his knuckles. Almost like a blazing inferno, his blood boiled in his veins, burning him from the inside out. He was mainly angry with himself, but that wouldn't stop his urge to hunt each and every single one of those bounty hunters, just to make sure they suffered and felt a lot of pain, just like he felt. No longer did he want to show sympathy to anyone. Maybe he was really a monster, wasn't he?
"If they learn your name and start haunting you, we'll run away! We'll run, run, run, and keep running as far as we have to! And when things calm down, we'll settle by their side again. You won't kill. You'll never kill anyone again, and one day, people will begin seeing you as I do."
Recalling your words, his eyes widened, and his fist loosened. The man's face was devoid of color. Vash tried to read his eyes for something but saw nothing but terror in the end. He was afraid.
No.
Your race was merciless. How could they say such a thing about one of their own? This man probably deserved the worst, but you didn't want Vash to be cruel, only to be kind. And he couldn't do this to you. Because if he did and an afterlife existed, you'd probably be the only sad person in heaven right now.
Dropping the man on the floor, Vash crushed his gun in his hand and tossed it away. The stranger was groaning and hunching over when he returned to you.
It was the first time Rosalina had seen him like this, her brain unable to digest or process this information. Unlike the man she knew, this one had cold, sharp eyes only focused on you. The look on his face was different. Scary, even. Somehow that worried her even more. She might be sad for you, even hate her people for having talked disparagingly about you; maybe she would give them a piece of her mind and grieve your loss. Maybe. Right now, though, her child's safety was her top priority, and this blood-stained man didn't look very stable.
"Listen, we don't want to die! Leave here and never come back!"
Vash sat by your side, helpless, as if something had broken inside him and all his emotions had poured out. When you left him alone, did you take some part of him with you?
"Get her out of this town. This disaster would've never happened if you hadn't stumbled into this town. She'd still be alive," Rosalina said firmly, staring at your peaceful face like you were in a deep sleep.
Vash didn't answer or even glance at the woman who wanted to help you celebrate his birthday. Like an orphan, he pulled you impossibly close, your bodies soldering together. He pondered Rosalina's words and the night he saw you and wondered whether your life would have been different if he hadn't met you. Who was even capable of answering this? As he whispered your name and begged you for forgiveness, his tears washed the blood from your cheeks, and Rosalina felt something inside her die. As she watched him willingly take all blame upon himself alone, as if he was already familiar with this feeling, she felt something break apart inside her.
Vash resembled his wanted posters now. A tall man with blond hair covered in red, but this time, it was your blood instead of his famous coat. His hands were trembling so hard he couldn't even recognize them anymore. Even so, he picked you up, cuddling you in his arms, only to notice the hickey on your neck from hours ago. Pain cramped his joints, breaking away every single bone in his body. He wanted to shriek through the sky; he wanted to fall to his knees again and sob into the ground. He didn't know why the agony wasn't finding an escape through his tears.
"Think way back. Remember that story I told you? About the man that found a blank ticket that could take him anywhere he wanted? That man is all of us. Where you go is yours to choose. You'll always have that ticket in your pocket, no matter what darkness life throws at you. When you're ready, write down the destination. I promise you. You'll be alright."
He wished Rem was right, but there was no such concept as happiness in this world. There was only endless strife, destruction, and death. There was only loneliness, pain, and regret. Whatever he did, no matter how much he pleaded, no matter how much he wished with all his heart to make things right, life always had a way of taking everything from him.
It seemed like Vash the Stampede's life had peaked, and nothing that came after you would ever matter to him. Because for him, there was before you, and there was during you, but he didn't want any after you. You were the light he never knew he needed. He was lost in the darkness, wandering life without direction. Then he found you, and you brought him warmth and light. You were the one who saved him. Twice and he couldn't do the same.
As he walked forward, he pleaded with his bones to remain steady, to carry him through the rest of the day and into the rest of his meaningless life. He passed through the crowd as if he had never been a part of them. The sand dragged under his feet, his knees weak, but he held you tight and walked away. His footprints grew smaller and smaller until there was only the empty silence of a long, lonely night.
Let's let him be for now. Everyone deserves to be left alone for a moment or two, right? Be that as it may, he always lost his most precious ones on his birthdays. Maybe it would have been better if he had never been born so that he would not have to endure so much grief alone. Or perhaps it was the way it was so we could be part of his life.
Author note: My real world had grown so dark that I didn't want to live in it. That's why I escaped and spent the day in a world darker than mine. Please accept my sincere apologies for dragging you down here with me ^_^
If you have anything to say, don't be shy to use ASK and the comment sections.
Disclaimers: This fan-written story contains quotes from "The Song of Achilles", "King Killer Chronicles", "Shatter Me" series and "Reminders of him" books, "Hamlet" play, and "I am unafraid with him" poem by pencap on Tumblr.
The arts are from "Trigun Stampede" anime.
#vash the stampede smut#vash smut#trigun smut#vash the stampede x you#vash the stampede x reader#trigun x reader#vash the stampede fluff#vash the stampede angst#vash x reader#vash x you#vash x y/n#vash the stampede#vash stampede x reader#tristamp#trigun fanfiction#trigun stampede#vash stampede#vash the stampede x y/n#vash our beloved#tristamp vash#trigun vash#trigun 2023#trigun 98#vash is babygirl#vash fluff#vash saverem
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Hi, I wanted to ask how you think Vash from Trigun Stampede 2023 and Vash from 1998 would react if the person they like gave them a big kiss? I’m curious :3
Okay Here it is :3
How would Vash from 1998 and 2023 react to receiving a kiss from someone they like?
Vash from Trigun Stampede 2023 and Vash from 1998 have slightly different personalities, but both are known for being very kind and a bit clumsy when it comes to romance.
Vash from 1998: This Vash is more playful and has a very comedic side. If the person he likes gave him a big kiss, he would probably be extremely surprised and embarrassed. He might even trip or fall, with a shocked look on his face, followed by a goofy smile. He would try to hide his embarrassment with a joke or a funny comment, but deep down, he would be very happy and maybe even a little emotional.
Vash from Trigun Stampede 2023: This Vash is a bit more serious and melancholic due to the darker tone of the series. If he received a big kiss from the person he likes, he would probably be equally surprised, but his reaction would be more restrained. He might blush and even stutter a bit, not knowing exactly how to react. However, his eyes would shine with happiness, and he might give a shy smile. He would cherish this moment, keeping it as a precious memory in his heart.
Both Vashes have a huge heart, and despite their differences, they would both be deeply touched by such a direct gesture of affection. :)
#trigun 2023#trigun#trigun x reader#trigun stampede vash#trigun stampede spoilers#trigun stampede x reader#trigun stampede fanart#trigun stampede headcanons#trigun stampede#trigun oc#trigun eriks x reader#trigun plants#vash saverem#vash stampede#vash the stampede x reader#trigun headcanons#Headcanon#fanfic#fypシ#anime 90s#anime and manga#anime#fanfiction
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AN: Just got a friend of mine into Trigun, so it's been on my mind lately. By extension, my favorite functionally immortal alien dork is on the brain again! <3
CW: Fluff with a bit of angst mixed in. This is Vash after all, we can't go without just a tad bit of sadness, now can we? Similar to another post of mine, this isn't explicitly X Reader, but could totally be read as if it is! This is written more so with Stampede in mind, but I happen to believe this would go for any version of Vash.
Vash, as we all know, wears his heart on his sleeve; he's not really that good at hiding how he feels.
That being said, I think that very much extends to when he has a partner. Even if he tried, he just can't pretend that he's not positively enamored; it always shows. The pure adoration in his eyes when he looks at them, that dorky, almost boyish smile on his face whenever they're around, the way he practically follows them around like a puppy on an invisible leash... He's head over heels, and he, nor anyone else, can deny that. Of all the things he feels, the all-encompassing love he has for his beloved is absolutely not something he'd be tempted to brush off or explain away.
However, being so open about how deeply he loves them does simultaneously make him a bit fearful. He's Vash The Stampede, a man with a bounty worth an ungodly amount of double dollars on his head; a man with all sorts of dangerous folks following in his wake, just waiting for their chance to strike. By all accounts, anyone in Vash's company for extended periods of time would most certainly be in danger, and his partner would absolutely be no exception. In fact, it'd likely be worse for them. They'd likely be targeted to get to him. They could be harassed, they could be kidnapped, they could be killed. All for being by his side. It absolutely terrifies him.
If he's honest, his mind has drifted onto the thought of ending the relationship purely in hopes of ensuring their safety more than once or twice. Of course, he's never followed through on it because as soon as the thought has finished running through his head, he's already thinking about how upset his poor lover would be. He just doesn't have it in him to put them through that. Besides, it took him ages just to muster up the courage to allow himself to be with them. He can't let his worries, even as unfortunately rooted in reality as they were, ruin the relationship he'd just barely given himself the privilege to have.
In the end, all that worrying ends up circling right back into just how affectionate he is. Vash knows that every bit of time he has with them is precious, so he very much intends to make the absolute most of it! Any excuse he can get to hold his beloved, let them kiss him stupid (because let's be real here, he is absolutely the one to get kissed stupid in any relationship he's in), or really anything, so long as it's with them, is one he'll take unquestioningly. All of that is more valuable to him than he can even put into words.
Of course, if that means he has to take a bullet, or maybe a few, to protect them from some gang of knuckleheads after his bounty every once in a while, then he'll do it gladly. Besides, he's got his lovely partner to kiss him better when it's all over, so how could he possibly complain?
#khy thoughts#vash#vash the stampede#vash trigun#trigun vash#vash x reader#trigun#trigun maximum#tristamp#trigun 98#headcanons#fluff#trigun fanfiction
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Trigun stampede
#trigun#anime 2024#trigun maximum#trigun stampede#vash saverem#trigun fanart#tristamp#vash trigun#trigun fanfiction#trigun 98#vash stampede#vash x reader#vash the stampede#trigun vash#vash fanart#edit#tiktok#trigun 2023
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Prince Vash doesn't think he has a jealous bone in his body until he sees you, his wife from arranged marriage, laughing and talking with a duke's son in the courtyard. How is he getting you to laugh like that? That laugh is reserved for his jokes.
Suddenly, he's seeing green.
#prince!vash#prince!vash arranged marriage au#just a small sample of the au#bc im still struggling with the majority of the hcs lol#vash the stampede#trigun#trigun stampede#tristamp#writing#vash x reader#vash the stampede x reader#reader insert#self insert#nova writes#trigun x reader#vash x you#trigun fanfiction
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MOONLESS NIGHTS.
cws ✦ fem!reader, boyfriend!vash,pussy-drunk!nai, mention of ovulation, periods, consensual, m→f-oral-receiving, polyamory if you squint.
syn ✦ an impromptu movie night turns out to be more interesting than the movie.
✦ redirect to blog navigation.
“Oh my my Nai, are you okay?” Vash asks while he chuckles. You can feel his chest reverberate at your back but the sensation is too short-lived to be negligible. Nai does not respond to his brother, just hums as he buries his face deeper into your cunt. His nose is practically rubbing up and down at the apex of your pussy while his tongue is in between your folds.
Vash places a soft kiss against your temple. His hands are clamped over your knees keeping your folded legs far apart from each other providing Nai as much space as possible so that he can have a taste of you. Your ovulation period is going to end soon, maybe today or tomorrow or maybe now. Vash is going to make sure Nai remembers how you taste because you are going to taste different when your red week is over.
Nai has his eyes closed, hands underneath your thighs, fingers digging into your skin creating dips as he eats your pussy relentlessly. There is a yakuza movie playing on the television, a murder scene followed by a packed sequence of fighting but of course with jazz music playing in background. Needless to say, none of you are paying attention to the movie not even bothered enough to turn it off or turn the mute mode on. Vash said, “It’s a nice addition.”
You did not think a movie night with your boyfriend and his brother would end up with you being in between them. You can barely think swating his head away or moving or building up some sort of resistance. You do not want to move but have to keep the urge to buck your hips against Nai's face at bay because Vash would not like that. Vash just said, “Stay still baby. Stay still. Hmmm? ” to you, and when Vash says something in a firm even tone, you listen; you listen to him like the good pet you are to him, which is why he is sitting behind you with his chest against your back holding your legs for his dear brother, Nai. God! he's such a mess right now. You are no better. The velvet skin of the couch has turned into it's darker shade.
It actually started with mere a question.
“Nai, have ever gone down on someone?”
The crunch of popcorn seemed loud to your ears as Vash lets his arm encapsulate around your shoulders which was resting on the backbone of the couch a while ago.
“why are you asking?” You held your breath as another moment of silence lingers in the air.
“Just answer.” Vash states finally shifting his gaze on his brother who was still watching the movie, well at least tried to.
“No. Never. Didn't have the chance!”
What happened next was a delight to Vash’s eyes. You wet your bottom lip in a quick swipe of tongue.
Vash pulls you closer to his side saying, “Would you like to try?”
Nervousness crawled all over your skin and of course Vash noticed, you were his girlfriend after all. The room fell into silence once again, accompanied by a heavy tension that three of you were obviously aware of. Vash had always noticed the yearn in his brother's eyes from time to time for you. He is seeing it now so he did not hesitate one bit to explore more about it.
Vash brings his face near your ears whispering, “Why do you say love? Care to help my pathetic brother out?” It was not a question and you were aware of that.
Nai could hear him. The popcorn in between his index finger and thumb fell and rolled onto the floor. He could not believe his ears. Both of them were looking at you now and all you had to do was to nod.
And when you did, you did not had to do anything else. Just follow Vash’s lead that had Nai peeled off your jeans from your skin, followed by your underwear having your pussy at display as Vash held your legs open positioning you in Nai's direction.
Nai did not waste any time from putting his mouth in between your legs. In fact, you could feel how desperate and needy he became as he kept slobbering up your juices. You did not mind, neither there was any resistance of sort; just ownership and surrender. Nai could not get enough of you. Even though you came he kept going. Vash could feel how intense the orgasm was for you since the fingers that interlaced with Vash’s became too tight for a few seconds and then became so lithe that Vash almost felt lonely.
Nai straightens himself up to finally take a breather. With his wings and tentacles spreading out from his back, he looked so handsome, so divine, especially with that craving in his eyes for more. How come you never noticed it?
“Now,” Vash deadpanned, “kiss her.”
“But—” Nai hesitates so you hold his face in between your palms pulling him into a kiss. His breath hitches but he gives in. You kiss him quite long you think before you feel Vash’s cold hands slipping under your top, fondling your boobs over your bra. A moan escaped from you making Nai sink into your kiss deeper. You felt another pair of lips upon the croon of your shoulders, as Vash’s arms travelled down to your torso lifting you up a little to have you onto his lap.
Nai is now deprived of your soft candy flavoured lips. He looks at you with lustful yearn filled in his eyes. He just wants to be inside you.
“My turn,” Vash says as he positions you on his bare thighs. He can not wait to be inside you which is evident from how is cock protrudes from the slit in his crotch. He thinks that by the time the movie ends he will make sure that your hunger for this movie night is satisfied up to the brim. It was your idea to include Nai, after all.
networks | @interstellar-inn @the-all-stars-network @houseofsolisoccasum @pixelcafe-network @underratedcharactercorner
mutuals | @kentocalls @theoxenfree
#vash x reader#vash x you#vash smut#nai x you#nai x reader#knives x reader#knives smut#knives x you#trigun stampede x reader#trigun stampede smut#trigun x reader#trigun x you#vash the stampede x reader#vash the stampede x you#smut fanfiction#smut fic#smut ff#millions knives x reader#millions knives smut#millions knives x you#smut drabbles#smut drabble#trigun fanfiction#trigun fic#mature fic#smut fanfictions#vash the stampede#trigun vash#trigun nai#millions knives
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you guys might not know this about me but I am a hard core trigun fan.
And I need Vash in such a primal way. 1998 Trigun Vash.
Warnings: Slightly Uncanny Vash (its not very uncanny since its during sex but,, still not human), NOT VERY HUMANOID VASH…, guys im a monsterfucker uncover sorry, cunnilingus, mating press, i tried to keep it pretty 1998 Vash-coded (it would be hard to make it 2023 coded bc i never watched that one) ENJOY THIS IS ALL SELF INDULGENT, fem reader (sry :< )
————
Meeting him in a bar and the flirting he’s lying on you is so horrible that it works. Next thing you know he’s got you under him on the bed of an inn around the corner. Kissing you hard while you ignore that his canine teeth are a tad too sharp, a few too many.
You ignore that when he goes down on you his tongue is reaching so much deeper inside of you than should be possible. When his mouth isn’t suckling your clit his thumb is pressing tight circles into you while you whine at the cold feeling of his rings. You feel him chuckle when your thighs tighten around his head.
“Sorry sorry sorry…” he mutters as he looks at you with puppy eyes while pulling away. You decidedly ignore that he has a heard glow and purr coming from him that isnt human. You grip onto him tightly and ignore that you can’t hear a heartbeat and get he feels overwhelmingly hot to the touch.
When he thrusts into you, you decide that you cannot ignore the inhuman texture. You just can’t verbalize it, too busy choking out moans and small sobs. Listening to the weird purring and clicking noises getting louder while the Humanoid Typhoon is thrusting into you. A scrunched look on his face and whimper coming through his groans from time to time. Tears falling onto your skin that are weird and cold, and slightly tingly.
He bends down after hooking your legs over his shoulders, pressing you tightly into a mating press and a tongue that takes up too much of your face licks the tears up. He’s panting above you, though it feels like all the sweat is coming from you.
And you outright squeal when you feel him cum inside of you. It feels weird, like a tingling inside of you thats too cold and too warm all at once. You gasp, and you feel the outlaw chuckle before his hand goes down to rub at your clit while he keeps thrusting.
Your legs kick out for a moment, and you hear a loud click and purr before one arm has grasped both legs, switching to swing them over one of his shoulders instead. You cum with a silent scream, arching off of the bed. It felt otherworldly, not something you think you could ever replicate again. Staring up with blurry eyes, trying to figure out if the mass of feathered wings you saw were a figment of your imagination. Nothing that you could hear except for the sound thats graduated to rumbling now; you couldn’t even hear your own breath.
“Round two?”
There is no way this man is human.
—————-
ineedhimineedhimineedhimineedhim
#requests open#send asks#fanfic#trigun smut#trigun fanfiction#trigun#vash smut#vash x reader#vash the stampede#trigun vash#trigun 1998#uncanny vash#i need it#i need him#tw monsterfucking#very light tw#but still#vash the humanoid typhoon#smut fanfiction
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Hiii.. love ur blog! Was wondering if you could write NSFW headcannons for aph switzerland spanking/punishing their (female) S/O? Or even general NSFW switzy headcannons bc i never see anything for Switzerland and I feel like he must be a kinky bastard deep down. Thank you so much!
you have no idea what kind of headcanons i thought up for this man, especially nsfw ones...whew 💨 you are in for it anon. hope you like it!
{ request } switzerland's NSFW headcanons ♡
type • nsfw content , switzy's a FREAKK , mentions of guns , gun kink , gunplay
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switzerland is a man of action. if he were to punish his partner, he would simply deny them everything that gets them off. he'd do it mercilessly. delightfully. without ever saying a word. those emerald eyes say enough.
his hands wander up and down their body. side to side they go, dragging his fingertips. it feels like torture, but it also feels like he's trying to tickle them. it's all intentional, of course. he needs to warm them up...and he's very skilled in using his hands and fingers.
one thing that he likes seeing is anyone he finds attractive handling a gun. doesn't matter what kind of gun it is either. sure, he likes carrying them himself but─the image of someone he's attracted to holding or, better yet, shooting his weapon of choice makes him feel a type of way. (he'd most likely be attracted to a badass femme fatale type of girl)
he's hardcore into this, but always plays it safe. keeping the chamber of his gun empty. by the time he really gets into it, the weapon is discarded anyway. switz needs his hands to be free for how much he is going to be touching his partner.
#hetalia headcanons#hetalia imagines#hetalia#hetalia x reader#hetalia fandom#hetalia world stars#hetalia fanfiction#hetalia x oc#hetalia x reader insert#hetalia x reader smut#hetalia x you#hws switzerland#hetalia switzerland#basch zwingli#aph switzerland#hetalia fanfictions#hetalia smut#vash zwingli
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🔞 Tender Passion (Vash x F!Reader)
Plot: With the gingerbread cookies cooling, you cuddle with Vash on the couch, waiting for Lina and Sheryl to return for dinner, but the warm embrace and heavy blanket threaten to lull you to sleep so Vash does what he has to to keep you from passing out. Rating: R (for this part) Tags: No use of "Y/N", Established Relationship, Smut, PWP, Soft Porn, Fluff, Domestic, Kissing, Under the Blanket Touching, Bridal Carry, Longing, Undressing, Caressing, Teasing, Fingering, P in V, Passionate, Tender, Missionary, Cowgirl, Simultaneous Orgasm, Cum Inside, Unprotected Sex Word count: 2.8k
« Optional fluffy Part 1 (Rated E)
The house is quiet; even the wind outside the window has fallen silent, leaving your breaths as the only sound. Vash has nuzzled his cheek against yours, his arms securely wrapped around your torso while you lay between his long legs, his chest gently rising and falling under your back. The room has surrendered to the darkness, only illuminated by the tiny bulbs of the string lights decorating the walls. The smell of gingerbread still lingers in the air, and the empty plate has only a few crumbs left on it. It is so cozy; from Vash's warm hug to the soft blanket wrapped around both of you, it would be so easy to slip away into a peaceful slumber.
You're just going to close your eyes for a moment. You're not going to fall asleep; just rest your eyes. But Vash's breathing is like a lullaby that threatens to rock you to sleep. Your eyes feel so heavy, and it gets harder and harder to pry them open. It's like your body slips away from your grasp; you can still hear and feel everything, almost like you're standing on the outside, no longer tethered to your brain.
"Hey now, don't fall asleep." Vash's soft voice cuts through the silence, drawing your attention again.
"I'm not," you answer, sounding more sleepy than you intended.
"I can't have you pass out before Lina and Grandma Sheryl get back. We still have a dinner planned." His head shifts against yours, messing with your hair until he can place a kiss on your cheek. A soft smile tugs at your lips as you lean into his touch, feeling loved.
"I know, that's why I am not sleeping," you reply, settling even more comfortably into his embrace.
"You are going to fall asleep like that," he chuckles lightly, his arms tightening around you.
"And what are you going to do about it?" you daunt him, your eyes still closed.
"Whatever I have to," Vash answers, and you recognize the mischievous glint in his tone.
He continues to embrace you despite you sliding slightly more down, nearly getting swallowed up by the blanket. His right hand shifts down, his fingers tickling lightly as they run over your side. His hand finds your leg, stroking gently up from the outside of your thigh towards the pulled-up knee. The left arm shifts too, still remaining draped over you, but he moves it just enough for his palm to find your right breast, cupping the supple flesh in his hand.
A shiver runs through your body as you enjoy his touch. But it is still comfortable and cozy; the sensation itself is keeping you awake, but you doubt it will help for long. As if hearing your thoughts, Vash starts to drag his right hand back, from your leg to your side and down again; it tickles slightly, and your clothes shift with his touch. A soft sigh rolls over your lips as you relax even more into his touch, but his hand doesn't travel to your knee; instead, it reaches around your leg, almost to your butt, but not really. His fingers press a little more into your flesh as he leans in closer. He kisses your temple while his prosthetic hand gently kneads the breast it holds.
Arousal starts to rear its head through the haze of tiredness as Vash catches your nipple between his outstretched fingers through the clothes, only slightly pinching it. All the while, his other hand caresses your leg, inching its way to the inside of your thigh, tracing patterns closer and closer to your center of desire. Even when his fingers press against the heat between your legs through the pants, it feels more like a tease, a small taste of what could be, and gives no satisfaction, only yearning.
"Have you woken up yet?" Vash whispers into your ear, and all you do is give a small shake with your head.
His left hand moves down under the blanket until it finds the end of your shirt, and he pushes his hand under. The metal of his fingers feels slightly cool against your warm skin. It makes you shiver again as he traces his fingertips gently up along your stomach, barely even touching you. His hand slinks over the bra only to sneak in over the edge, pushing it slightly to the side to settle over your breast. His touch sends a wave of tingles throughout your body, especially when he lightly grazes your nipple.
You melt into him even more, leaning back your head in enjoyment, resting it over his broad chest. His other hand remains settled between your slightly spread legs, his hooked fingers stroking back and forth over the tough fabric separating you from his touch. It is a prolonged tease that is hard to deny, and you find yourself desperately craving more. So you remain unmoving, eyes still closed. Only the slight movement of the heavy blanket covering you would let anyone else know that this is not just an innocent embrace between two tired lovers.
His right hand finally moves up again, but only to the button of your pants to undo the front. As he slowly slides his hand inside, you can feel the heat of his touch against your skin. His fingers cautiously inch closer, trapped between you and the fabric of your underwear. All the while, he keeps playing with your chest. The expression on his face is calm, a slight smile playing at the corners of his lips as he looks down at you lying on top of him in blissful surrender.
Vash's fingers slide over your core, only his middle finger gliding through your folds, smearing your arousal throughout, teasing you with just enough pressure to make you want more. He moves slowly and gently, only adding his pointer when you involuntarily spread your legs wider for him. Your pants still restrict his movements, but there is enough space for him to slide his fingers back and forth, spreading your lips and brushing over your clit. You fight back the urge to move, continuing to let him explore you. The sigh from his lips is tender, and he nuzzles his nose against your ear without saying anything. His left hand's grasp tightens on your breast, almost like pulling you closer.
A jolt of pleasure darts from your pussy to your navel as he draws gentle circles both on your nipple and your clit simultaneously. His touch is equally gentle and firm, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You feel yourself completely surrendering to his touch. Your breathing gets heavier, and you lift one leg over his, allowing him to access you more easily.
"Sleepy girl," he whispers in your ear, sliding his hand deeper into your pants. You feel a rush of desire wash over you as his fingers find their way to your entrance, lingering at the edge before pushing slowly inside you. His movements are slow and deliberate, his palm brushing over your pussy each time he moves forward to push deeper inside and while he pulls back. It starts to be harder and harder to pretend to still be on the edge of sleep while you crave more of his intimate caresses. The sensation of his fingers inside you makes you want to tighten up, to hold on to each spark of pleasure that he's giving you, but still you remain as relaxed as you can, enjoying his swipes that leave you tingling.
You can feel the tension building within you as his touch becomes more intense, sending waves of pleasure throughout your body. His fingers hook to put more pressure to the soft wall they drag along. With each following movement, you can't help but start to arch your back and let your lips part for airy breaths that catch in your throat. A slow, smoldering fire burns within you, coming to the surface where Vash touches you. He pulls his hooked fingers from inside you, only to play with your clit. He puts measured pressure on your sensitive bud, making you silently gasp for more. Your own hands trace along his arms, from his elbows to his wrists. He plunges into your depths again, stroking your insides with tender passion.
"Are you still tired, love? Or should we perhaps go to our room?" he whispers against your scalp before pressing his lips to your hair.
"We should go. In case they come back…" you reply breathlessly, your body still enjoying his touch, from your pussy to the top of your head.
"Good."
Vash's hands shift before his whole body does. You still are surprised every time he displays his unnatural strength. He appears strong, but still there is something in the effortless way he moves. He doesn't show any sign of struggle, not in his breathing or even the tensing of his body. It's as if you weigh nothing, less even than the blanket covering you as he shifts you in his lap as if you, hooking one hand under your knees and the other around your back. He stands up, the blanket still covering you as he sets his steps towards the attic stairs. You can finally see the outlines of his face in the dim light; he smiles so tenderly, his eyes full of love as he carries you into the dark stairwell and into the little room you've occupied.
The light of the moons bathes the space in a soft glow. A shaft of moonlight streams through the window, casting a gentle light on the walls and your mattress on the floor. You can feel the warmth of his body against yours while cupping his cheek with your hand. The moment feels surreal, as if time has stopped. He sets you down gently, the blanket falling to the floor to lay among the other covers of your bed. He leans in, his lips almost touching yours. Vash's hands are still on you, pulling you closer by the waist as you hold his face. You close the gap to gently kiss his lips, savoring the moment before finally pulling away.
He lifts the hem of your shirt, and you lift your arms for him to pull it over your head. He is so tender and sweet, his eyes remaining on yours. You give him another sweet kiss before pulling off his sweater, revealing his bare upper body and the scars and augmentations that catch the light. But your eyes remain locked with his. Another kiss before he continues to undress you. The items of clothing you shed from each other are thrown on the floor. You wrap your arms around his neck to kiss him again, your naked bodies pressed against each other as he pulls you closer with one hand. He lowers you both to the mattress on the floor, carefully and tenderly laying you on your back while continuing to kiss your lips. The fire within you smolders all over your skin where his heavy body presses against you.
Vash eventually pulls back, slipping from your embrace to press his lips to the center of your chest, leaving a kiss over your heart before looking back up at you with a tender smile. He sits up more, your legs bent to either side of him. He admires you for a moment before leaning in to kiss you deeply again; one of his hands traces down along your body, cherishing the feel of your skin under his palm. His hand disappears for a moment and is replaced by the feeling of his cock swiping through your wet folds. The head presses against your entrance, teasing you with the promise of pleasure before slowly pushing inside. Vash's body shifts again, and his lips pull away from yours. His hands catch yours, entangling your fingers with his. He leans forward, his dick pushing deeper while he presses your hands into the blankets, trapping them under his large palms.
You wrap your legs around his hips in response to him holding your hands, and you feel him start to move, his motions slow and tender. His expression is so full of adoration that it makes your heart want to explode. His thrusts are slow and long, pulling almost out before sliding back in. His gaze never leaves yours, filled with a mix of desire and love. With each gentle thrust, you feel the deeper connection between the two of you, a bond that goes beyond physical pleasure. You are his everything. He is your everything. Right now there is just the two of you.
He moves closer again to lean his head to yours, and with his lips by your ear, he whispers your name with the utmost tenderness and intimacy. "I love you. Forever and always," he says, and you feel his lips move against the shell of your ear.
"Vash…" you whisper back, your breath barely carrying any of your voice with it. But it is enough. In it, you pour all of your love and longing. He hears the unworded promises that you make to him, and he smiles against your skin. His fingertips press into the backs of your hands as he holds you tighter.
His hips pull back enough that when they move closer, you feel yourself stretching around his cock again, the delicious feeling of fullness making you moan quietly. Every vein and bump of his dick rubs against your inner walls, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through your body. He picks up some pace but remains gentle and calm, occasional little moans rolling from his chest as he continues to fuck you gently, passionately. Your back arches as you tense up more and more, feeling the pressure building up inside you.
His body suddenly leans more against you, his rough chest pressed to yours. His hands release yours to gently take hold of you and then turn with you until he lies on his back and you are on top, straddling his hips while his cock still remains inside you. It takes a moment to reorient yourself, but you brace your hands to his chest and push up. His hands land on your hips and move with you as you start to grind back and forth, feeling every inch of him deep inside you.
The moonlight illuminates his skin and the expression on his handsome features. He looks divine, like an angel. His breath hitches as you keep moving your hips against his. Vash looks up at you much the same as you look at him. He too sees someone who has walked off the pages of a fantasy novel. His head rolls back as he surrenders to you, his mouth sculpting your name into a moan. You raise your body from his only to come back down again. Bouncing on his lap with a rhythm that builds your pleasure brick by brick. Shifting forward gives you more leverage as you ride him.
Vash pushes up from the mattress, halfway sitting to look at you and catch your lips with his. He pulls you down with him, mouths locked in a passionate embrace of their own. His hands wander down your back towards your waist, pulling you closer to him. You still move your body when he joins you, thrusting his hips upwards as you come down. The rhythm gets faster, the sensation he brings, more intense. It wraps you up, tightening your core until Vash can barely hold on. Both of you teeter on the edge, his hips losing some of the gentleness, but the rest of him holds you gently. Finally, the pleasure explodes between you, shattering you simultaneously. His hips keep moving, riding out the waves of ecstasy, every thrust pumping more of his cum into you. Only when he stops, overwhelmed and overstimulated, are you able to relax and come down from the intense high he has brought you to. It is unclear how long it has been, was it quick or did it take a decade? It could be either or. It still feels like your souls have entangled together.
His chest heaves as you lay down on it, his head tilted back as he catches his breath. You revel in the afterglow, his arms wrapped around you, holding you tight while your body still tingles from the pleasure. Like waves, it still rushes through you, the pulse of your pussy squeezing around his cock, making the mix of your juices and his cum dribble out as you both bask in the post-orgasmic bliss. Vash's body is so warm under yours, you fit together as if every curve was forged to match with the other's. If only it could last forever and not just until the others get back.
« Optional fluffy Part 1 (Rated E)
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#trigun#fanfic#fanfiction#vash the stampede#humanoid typhoon#plant boi#x reader#writing#vash x reader
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