#Vash x Reader

[vashs-turtleneck]

Nimble-fingered.

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

✧ [Bonus chapter] - if you want more

NSFW BELOW, 18+ ONLY, MDNI!

Vash has pretty hands.

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

And Vash is very good with his hands.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, you're in trouble.

_____________

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

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

Except, he's not moving his hand.

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

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

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

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

Oh, he's being so teasing tonight.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"One more."

He said that last time.

And the time before that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Did... Did he just come?

Without you even touching him?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"One more."

Oh, you're in trouble.

#vash the stampede x you #vash x you #vash the stampede x reader #vash x reader #vash smut #trigun smut

[blondeboyfriend]

𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 (𝟏𝟖+)

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈

[ PAIRING ] Vash the Stampede x reader [ AUTHOR'S NOTE ] I turned this thirst into a fic. [ SYNOPSIS ] Vash starts emitting sexy pheromones that leave you desperate for his cock. [ WORD COUNT ] 2.5k [ CONTENT ] Canon AU, porn without plot, dubcon, vaginal sex, rough sex, size kink, mild dumbification, plantfucking, body horror/weird plant biology, oral sex (m receiving), vaginal fingering, nipple play, Vash has a biting kink, self objectification (does that even make sense?), knotting, creampie, cockwarming.

It was just past midnight. The moons were looming high in the sky, illuminating the desolate land surrounding the town you and Vash had taken refuge in. Your face was pressed against the window, gazing out into the sandy void.

“You see the sky tonight?” you asked.

Vash didn’t bother responding. You turned around and saw his dejected form.

“You’re lookin’ more wistful than usual.”

He was sprawled out on the bed, leaving you little to no room. The lodge you were holed up in only had a single room vacant and of course there was but one measly bed. It was a good enough sized one though; it could definitely provide comfort for you and the gangly mess of a man you called a travel companion.

Vash merely sighed in response to your question and stared up at the ceiling.

His gaze was flat, not a hint of sparkle to his blue-green eyes. His sweet face was held hostage by a delightfully adorable pout. Thoughts of biting down on his bottom lip swirled around you, leaving you flustered and throbbing. You hoped whatever was troubling him wasn’t too serious because otherwise your current state would be disrespectful.

“What’s wrong?” you prodded, taking a seat on the bed. You tried to sound as dry as humanly possible.

He turned his head towards you and gave you the weakest, most pathetic smile. A smile that inspired no faith in what it sought to imply.

“Nothing you need to worry about,” he answered sweetly.

You glared at him. “Fine. I—Well… I guess I’m going to sleep.” You paused awkwardly. “Goodnight.”

Vash scooted over, granting you space on the mattress. You crawled into place, not bothering to cover yourself with the musty bedding. It smelled too much like sand.

You rolled onto your side, your back facing Vash. You held yourself in a fetal position in hopes it would keep you warm. In a perfect world you’d just snuggle up next to him and leech off the heat his body seemed to radiate. But you didn’t live in a perfect world; you lived in a sandy, inhospitable land.

“Are you cold?” he asked. Such a perceptive one he was.

“A little,” you lied.

“Get under the blankets then,” he suggested.

“No. They smell like sand and… I don’t know, like, armpit sweat.”

He let out a tiny laugh. “I can’t argue with you there.”

You wriggled your shoulders in discomfort. You wanted to curl up next to Vash like a kitten, but with his current mood it just didn’t seem feasible. The last thing you wanted to do was annoy him so you would have to bear the drafty room on your own. It would only be for a night; you could handle it.

However after about five minutes of shivering in painful silence, you turned over and faced Vash. He was on his side, facing you. His eyes were shut, his dark lashes catching the moonlight streaming through the windows.

You gently nudged him. “Hey.”

He briefly frowned, but stayed asleep.

You nudged him once more, this time much harder.

“Vash!”

His eyes shot open and he jerked back.

“Ouch! Why are you being so aggressive?”

“I have a question,” you said, giving him puppy dog eyes.

“Ask away.”

“Can we spoon, or snuggle, or something?”

“Uh—”

“If you don’t want to, that’s fine. I know you… are like… You’ve got something on your mind and I don’t wanna—”

The radiant grin he gave you calmed your nerves. He pulled you into his embrace, wrapping his arms around you. Your face was buried into his neck. He smelled like freshly washed linens, undercut by a strange earthy, honey-like scent, a creamy florescent. The chills that cursed your body melted away in his presence.

“Thank you,” you muttered, voice muffled by Vash’s sweet skin.

You inhaled deeply and pressed your body up against his. He felt tense, like his muscles were frozen in place.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” you asked.

“It’s stupid,” he whined.

“I don’t care.”

He paused and took a few slow breaths, preparing himself for the question he was about to pose.

“I really like you and—”

“You wanna fuck me, huh?” you asked, your face adorned with a cat-like grin. You had never been so forward before, but something seemed to possess you.

“Of course I do.” He groaned. “But I can’t because… it’s complicated. And intense.”

“Is that supposed to be a deterrent?”

He rolled onto his back and hid his face behind his hands.

“It’s just different, alright?”

You crawled on top of him, unable to help yourself. His aura was whipping you into a frenzy, the lovely scent emanating from his skin growing stronger and luring you in.

“I like different,” you purred.

He gulped. “I should tell you—”

You didn’t let him speak.“I don’t care what happens.”

Vash blushed. “Let me finish.”

You groaned but relented. “Fine. But be quick.”

“I haven’t, uh, you know… in a while. And when that happens my body produces these pheromones that are supposed to attract a mate.”

“A mate?” you asked, voice wavering. You liked Vash and wanted to fuck him, but mate implied somewhat of a large commitment.

“No! Not a mate! It, well, it makes people want to—”

“Fuck you?” you asked, biting down on your upper lip.

He nodded. “And they kinda… drive me crazy too.” He tacked on a nervous laugh. “Sometimes I can’t control myself which isn’t fair because, well, whoever is… uh… they do whatever I want them to.”

Your cunt was growing wetter by the second.

“So that’s why I want you to use me so bad.”

His eyes were wide, almost sparkling. His cheeks were rosy and the scent emanating from him grew stronger.

You felt as if the room was enveloped in a sensuous haze that seeped into your skin, flowing through your veins. It was consuming you, eating away at your thoughts, leaving behind visions of Vash tossing your legs over your shoulders and driving his cock into your weeping cunt. Your body was growing warmer, almost unbearably so. Every inch of you ached for him. You would know no peace until his body was lording over yours and filling you up with his cum.

“I just.” He averted your lingering gaze. “It’s embarrassing. I hate getting like that. When I do all I can think about is pinning someone down and fucking them until they can’t see straight.”

“That sounds amazing,” you said dreamily. 

Your manner of speaking was much more provocative than it usually was. Your tongue seemed to linger on the letters, leaving each one coated in a honey-like tone. There was almost a hint of a tumultuous moan when you said “aammmaaaaaziiingg.”

Vash looked uncomfortable, but willing. His hands were gripping the sheets as if he was holding on for dear life.

“I know you want me,” you teased, rocking your hips against his. “I’m not lying when I say you can do whatever you want to me. You need it. I know you do.” You cupped his face in your gentle hands. “Let me help you. It’s what I’m here for.”

He laughed. “It’s not, but…”

“Hush,” you said, grabbing a hold of his cock.

It was swollen, begging for release.

You lowered yourself down and pulled down the soft, worn cotton pants he liked to sleep in. His cock sprung up, standing completely upright. The tip was engorged and pink. You rubbed it with the pad of your thumb and watched as Vash winced. His brows knitted together in ecstatic agony.

A few thick veins snaked around his shaft. You ghosted your fingers over them and reveled in his desperate whines. You looked up at him with starved eyes, darkened by your devotion and desire. You ran your tongue along the underside of his shaft. You grabbed ahold of his cock and stroked it while you rolled your tongue against the tip, savoring the sweet taste of his precum.

He let out a low groan as you pumped his leaky cock. He placed his hand on the back of your head and gently pushed down. You dropped your hand and decided to let your mouth do the work.

Vash eased your head further down, until the entirety of his length filled your mouth. Spit was trickling from the corners of your mouth and tears crept out from the corners of your eyes. He began to thrust, sending the tip of his cock into the back of your throat. You were steadfast and breathed through your nose, fighting your gag reflex.

“Your mouth fe—feels so good,” he stammered.

You placed your hands on his muscled thighs to push yourself off of his cock, but you felt what appeared to be downy feathers sprouting from his skin. It threw you off for a moment before you remembered what you wanted to say.

“Wait until you feel my pussy,” you bragged.

His eyes almost seemed to glow. He gave you a boyish smile before pushing you onto your back with a swiftness that left you in awe. His hands wandered down your body, pawing at your clothes, desperately trying to take them off. Your body felt electric as he undressed you. Each time his warm, slender fingers grazed your skin your body pulsed with delight. 

He kissed your neck before letting his sharp canines graze your tender skin. You hummed in delight, and laced your fingers through his silky hair. He rutted up against your body, the tip of his cock teasing your clit. You whimpered every time it made contact.

He left a trail of kisses down your neck and chest, stopping at your breast. He flicked his tongue against your nipple. He sucked on it, holding it between his soft lips. You relished in the sound of him lapping away. You held onto his shoulders, feeling spiny quills erupting from his scapulae.

“Vash,” you whimpered. “Are you okay?”

He didn’t respond. The quills from his back grew longer and denser. You pricked your finger on one of the sharp tips. You winced in pain and moved your hand down to the small of his back. You watched as the spiny quills became more feather-like. They were pale and iridescent and they left you transfixed. They were so beautiful. They soon covered his back and made their way down his arms. You ran your hand down the length of them. They were soft and sleek, like nothing you had ever experienced before.

“So pretty,” you muttered.

Vash lifted his head from your breast.

“Hm?”

A cluster of eyes has formed in the middle of his forehead. It disturbed you briefly, but the feeling of his cock throbbing against your thigh was enough to make you forget about it.

“Nothing, nothing,” you said, stroking his cheek.

You kissed him, pushing your tongue past his teeth. He held you close and you felt like your body was melting into his. You wanted to become a part of him. He slid his fingers into your cunt, spreading apart your folds. You groaned in frustration. His fingers weren’t enough. You needed his cock.

“Please just fuck me,” you whined, breaking the kiss.

He looked up at you with all of his dazed eyes and wordlessly nodded. He slowly guided his cock inside you. You gasped as your cunt stretched around it. You buried your face into his neck, hoping to mute your cries of pleasure. His thrusts were gentle and deliberate. You could feel that he was holding back.

“Is it too much?” he asked, planting a kiss on your forehead.

You shook your head. “More.”

He gave you a concerned look. “More?”

“Yeah. Fuck me like I’m a whore.”

Vash nearly choked on his own spit.

“C’mon,” you purred. “You know you want to.”

“I can’t. It’ll be too much.”

“My body can take it.”

He frowned. “I could really hurt you.”

“I like it when it hurts,” you said, tightening your cunt around his cock. You kissed him again and held his bottom lip between your teeth. “I’m your toy. You can do whatever you want to me.”

Vash looked at you, holding your gaze, clearly weighing his options. Once he made up his mind an impish grin made its way across his face and he lifted your legs over his shoulders.

His thrusts were significantly more intense than they were previously. He drove his cock into your cunt with a fervor you had never experienced. His cocktip pushed up against your cervix, sending a sharp sensation to your core. You became a panting, moaning mess. You were falling apart at the seams, your body as limp as a doll’s. Vash was able to manipulate your body with ease, essentially folding you in half, leaving your knees close to your face.

You looked up at him as his wings spread out, nearly engulfing you. It was hard to believe this was the same Vash you wandered the desert with. You never would have thought the doughnut eating dork could be so feral. You knew he wasn’t a human, but his true nature being so alien never occurred to you.

As he fucked your limp body into the mattress, you felt your orgasm begin to bloom in your stomach. Your breathing became labored and all you could think about was coming all over his cock.

“You’re close, aren’t you?” he growled.

“Uh-huh,” you moaned.

He picked up the pace, his thrusts growing more and more frantic. The room was filled with a symphony of his grunts and whimpers. You were lost in his presence, completely enamored and consumed by it. Your vision blurred and you saw nothing but white as you came. A deluge of fluids dripped from your cunt and coated his cock. You felt like you had ascended to heaven, leaving No Man’s Land in the dust.

Vash continued to thrust as his cock swelled inside you. Spurts of his slippery cum filled your cunt. He exhaled deeply and allowed your legs to fall to the side and laid down on top of you. The two of you tried to catch your breath and let the rapture you were entangled in fade away.

“I’m sorry,” he said bashfully, lifting himself up.

His cock was still buried inside you.

“Why…” You struggled to find your words. “Why are you… sorry?”

“Because! I didn’t want you to ever see me like this. I look like a freak.”

You ran your hand along his wings and made an effort to make eye contact with the cluster of ones on his forehead.

“I think you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

“You’re just saying that because you're high off my pheromones,” he scoffed.

You giggled. “Maybe. But you’re still very pretty.”

You rubbed the short feathers that had sprouted along the apples of his cheeks. He sighed in relief and nuzzled his face into your neck. His cock continued to throb inside you and likely would for a while. You didn’t mind though. Laying under Vash, shielded by his wings from the harsh world outside, was all you could want in such a harsh and unforgiving world.

#vash the stampede x reader #vash x reader #trigun smut #vash the stampede smut #trigun x reader #.fics #.trigun #.vash #reader insert #x reader

[pfpanimes]

⌕ trigun stampede • vash.

like or reblog if you save/use.

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[anyasathenaeum]

Not really nsfw but a crack-ish fic where Knives is trying to kidnap/threaten Vash's s/o and they just tell him "I fucked your brother, shitlips" and he starts arguing with them (they keep saying it) for at least 30 minutes until Vash shows up.

A/N: Okay this just made me burst into laughter, what a chaotic idea. I LOVE it. Sorry it's short but it's my first ever crack-fic

Warnings: MINORS DNI, Explicit mentions of sex, This is Absolutely Not Serious™, please enjoy chaos and Knives getting annoyed

"You will obey me, or else, I will-"

"You'll what? You won't do anything because jokes on you, I already slept with your brother," You immediately cut Knives off, grinning a bit maniacally at him.

Knives' eyes widened and he just stared at you for a moment.

"What?"

"I slept with your brother," You repeated, grinning even more maniacally. Despite you clearly being in a position of vulnerability, tied up and restrained, you were loving this and decided if you were gonna be unhinged, you would push the envelope as far as you could.

"You... what?"

Knives continued to just stare at you, confusion and lack of understanding clear in his pale eyes.

You let out a borderline-unhinged laugh, "What aren't you getting here, buddy? I. Slept. With. Your. Brother. I fucked Vash, which was amazing, by the way! I'm really glad we finally slept together, it took FOREVER for him to get the hint!"

Knives just rubbed his eyes with his hand and sighed exasperatedly, trying to keep himself calm and still maintain his intimidating facade, "As I was saying, you-"

"Fucked Vash, you betcha I did! Many times, actually!"

Oh, this was getting fun. You wanted to see how annoyed you could get Knives, partly out of the want to just frustrate and irritate him, and partly because you knew Vash would definitely be on his way to save you.

Knives scowled at you and just looked down at you as he got close to your face, anger clear in his features.

"Would you shut up about-"

"Fucking Vash? Never. And trust me, after the kind of sex we had? I'm NEVER shutting up about it ever again."

Knives let out an exasperated yell, "Are you kidding me?! Stop talking about sleeping with my brother!"

"Four times, Knives! Four orgasms in the span of ten minutes, I mean, what kind of man can pull that off?! It was impressive, I felt like I had no bones left in my body, and-"

"ENOUGH!"

Knives bellowed loud enough to actually silence for you, but it didn't wipe away the grin on your face. You couldn't help but stifle a laugh as you saw how red Knives' face was and how annoyed he was.

"What, jealous you aren't getting laid, Knives? I must say, the whole 'murdering the human race' vibe you've got going on might be the reason."

You couldn't believe you were pushing this far, but all your shame was out the window now - it was all or nothing at this point.

"I swear, if you don't stop talking about- about-," Knives spluttered angrily, but you immediately interjected before he could get too far.

"What? Sex? Are you so shy that you can't even say the word, Knives?" You teased mercilessly.

"Why are you two talking about sex?"

Both you and Knives turned to see Vash standing there, looking extremely confused and a bit of an amused expression on his face despite his gun being drawn.

"Get them out of my sight," Knives immediately snapped, just about throwing you across the room at Vash, "I give up. I never want to see them again, they're useless to me. Both of you, leave now, before they start talking about... about..."

"Sex?"

"OUT!"

#anya's athenaeum #trigun stampede #trigun stampede x reader #trigun x reader #trigun #vash the stampede #vash the stampede x reader #vash x reader #millions knives #millions knives x reader #knives x reader #nai x reader #nai trigun #trigun knives #lmfao this was fun to write #what chaos #trigun smut #trigun stampede smut #trigun shitpost #trigun crackfic

[novasintheroom]

Vash has a secret: he’s always wanted to feed his future significant other.

Nothing weird, just – whenever he sees couples out and about, some of them will offer the other food, and he’ll watch, longingly, as they take a bite out of the person’s offered treat. No Man’s Land is tough, and people are tougher about sharing resources. He sees this act of sharing a bite to eat from one’s own plate as a way to look past selfish need and into true love.

He’s hesitant to try it with you, though, when you first start dating. You’ve made it clear you’re incredibly independent. Would you take an offering of eating off his fork as insulting? Gross? He swears he brushes his teeth…

Finally, he gets the gump to try it. One day while you’re walking through town and chatting, he just…shoves his donut in your face. Your nose boops into it, and you look up at him incredulously. “What?”

“Do you want a bite?”

You blink, a small, “Uh, sure,” coming out as you hold his hand steady and take a bite of the pastry. You let out a pleased hum, letting go and nodding up at him. “It’s good! I’ll have to get that next time.”

What you don’t know is a blush is creeping up his neck and into his hairline. That was…so cute. So…intimate? It went so much better than he thought it would. You continue your walk, Vash with a little skip in his step.

Now, he offers food whenever he can. Sometimes you turn him down, saying you’re too full or aren’t hungry, but most of the time you humor him into taking a bite. You aren’t fully aware of what this does to him, how it makes him feel, but he’s always so much happier after you do it that it’s hard to say no.

And when you finally offer something to him? He takes it as a sign that you’re both finally and fully in love. He takes your fork steady, making sure to savor the bite of burrito you had offered. Does it taste better coming off your plate? Absolutely. It tastes like love to him.

#trigun #vash the stampede #trigun stampede #tristamp #writing #vash x reader #vash the stampede x reader #reader insert #self insert #nova writes #trigun x reader

[angelltheninth]

Vash, Nicholas, Millions Knives + Accidental Confession

Pairing: Vash the Stampede, Nicholas D. Wolfwood, Millions Knives x Reader

Tags: fluff, love confession, first kiss, cuddles, blushing, teasing, slightly suggestive

A/N: You didn't think I was done with these three did you?

VASH

Says it while you're half asleep on his chest, which is a position you don't remember being in when you went to sleep

He moved you, hating the thought of you sleeping on the cold sand

Will try to convince you that you're dreaming

If you were then you wouldn't be in the middle of nowhere or wearing this much clothes, and Vash wouldn't be stuttering over his words so much

Therefore no, you're not dreaming but if he think you are then he should give you a kiss and see what happens

NICHOLAS

Not surprised that you like him, you've been asking him to spend the night with you a lot more than just intimacy

You think he can't understand you if you're moaning while you say it but he understood just fine

Nicholas won't stop what he's doing, but you go right ahead, keep confessing, see if it gets you to the finish line faster

Thank god he was already on top of you so can hide your face in his shoulder while you confess

He didn't mean to make fun of you, he just thought it'd be a cute way to confess to him

KNIVES

Didn't think you'd fall for him, and sure as hell never saw himself falling for a human

He always figured he'd be too feared to fall in love with, too dangerous for you to touch him so gently, let alone kiss him

Because he'd never been kissed before he had a serious face up until your lips touched

It was a deeper kiss then you expected for the first one, it made you so dizzy that you couldn't keep the confession off your lips

Since he didn't know if he should say it back, show his soft side to you, Knives tried to keep it just to lust, but he didn't ever say that you couldn't tell him you love him as much as you wanted

#vash x reader #vash x you #vash fluff #vash the stampede x reader #vash the stampede x you #vash the stampede fluff #nicholas d. wolfwood x reader #nicholas x reader #nicholas fluff #millions knives x reader #millions knives fluff #trigun stampede x reader #trigun stampede x you #trigun stampede fluff #wolfwood x reader #trigun x reader #trigun x you #trigun fluff #trigun #vash the stampede #nicholas d wolfwood #trigun stampede #nicholas d. wolfwood #millions knives #x reader

[pinkanonwrites]

As Our Fingers Entwine

The end of the trilogy!!! I hope you all enjoy, both newcomers and those who have been eagerly anticipating this piece! It is in fact NSFW, appropriate tags below. Read it on AO3 here!

TRIGUN STAMPEDE EPISODE 7 SPOILERS IN FIC BELOW!

Vash/Reader, 6,000+ Words, AFAB Reader but no specific pronouns used, mutual pining, body worship, frottage, vaginal sex, alien biology, praise kink, enthusiastic consent, begging

You couldn't say for certain why the ambience of the peaceful town didn't lull you to sleep the same way the rattling underbelly of the Sand Steamer seemed to, but you had a distinct feeling it was because you weren't right next to Vash.

You'd never admit it aloud, mainly for fear of revealing your painfully obvious affections for your blond companion, but nowadays you always slept better with Vash by your side. And as happy as Vash seemed to have a room to himself and time to catch his breath, a selfish little part of you had hoped he'd be cheap again, crowd the two of you into a single room to save a few double dollars. The last time you truly got to sleep side-by-side with him was a few bumpy hours on the Sand Steamer, before the incident with the Bad Lads and the shootout and the, well, the entire steamer nearly catastrophically crashing to pieces. There wasn't much sleeping on the bus ride into town either, no matter how exhausted the both of you were. 

And yet, when you collapsed face-first into the surprisingly comfy hotel bed, you found yourself agonizingly conscious. Somehow, a simple wall in between you and Vash was enough to keep you from getting a good night's sleep. Just when did you become so dependent? Now three nights have passed, each one spent tossing and turning, unable to get more than a few blissful moments of shuteye. It wasn't like you were scared, or even stressed! Your body had just acclimated to the idea of sleeping curled up next to Vash, and now without him…

"Hey, anybody home in there?"

"...Hmm? Oh! Oh, yeah, I'm listening." You hadn't realized you'd started to doze off at the diner table over your supper until Vash leaned over and snapped his fingers in front of your face. You jolted up, grabbing a wedge of your sandwich and jamming it quickly into your mouth as he gave you a soft and sympathetic smile, his salmon sandwich basically finished and his free hand twiddling a stray french fry back and forth across the plate. Ah, he must have been waiting for you.

"You're a little out of it today. Everything alright?"

You waved him off, taking a swig of water to force down the mouthful of bread and various fillings. "It's fine! Just not sleeping well, it's no big deal."

Your response didn't seem to soothe Vash's worries at all, as his little smile fell into a frown. "That's no good. Is everything alright? You don't feel unsafe or anything, do you?"

"Nonono, nothing like that, really!" His concern really shouldn't have been enough to fluster you, Vash would have been worried for just about anyone who looked as worn-out as you did. But it still hit a soft little spot in you, something eternally sensitive to Vash's care and attention that you had to do your absolute best to stifle basically every moment of every day. "It's just too quiet, you know? I'm not used to having a room to myself anymore, heh. Pretty silly, isn't it?"

Judging by the soft and further  furrowing of Vash's brow, your  placations did nothing to assuage his concern. "Is there anything I can do? To help, I mean."

Stay. Stay with me, always.

Yeah, right. Like you could actually say that out loud. You sunk further into your seat, feeling a bit like an insect under a magnifying glass in the face of his consideration. It felt as if one wrong word or move would suddenly and jarringly expose the affections you held for him that seemed so glaringly obvious at all times, always.

"I dunno. It's not a big deal, anyway. We don't have to worry about it."

He seemed to sense your own discomfort with the subject matter, and leaned gently back in his seat. "I saw there was a tailor in this town! If you want you can come with me tomorrow, maybe get that tear in your cloak patched up?"

You thumbed the rugged fabric edge in your hand, almost not wanting to. Vash had patched it for you last time, and though the job was a touch on the rough side you didn't exactly like the idea of someone undoing his heartfelt, albeit clumsy, stitchwork. But shopping with Vash? That definitely sounded like how you wanted to spend your afternoon.

"Yeah, that'd be nice. Anywhere you wanna stop by?"

"Might pick up some ammo, but not much besides that!"

And you were certain that would be the end of it. Even after thumbing out a few double-dollars to pay for dinner, opening the diner door for you with a cartoonish bow, and chatting idly as the two of you made your way back towards the hotel, Vash didn’t broach the subject again. By the time you’d made it to the door of your room you were certain he’d forgotten about it. But just as you were about to wish him goodnight and slip through the crack of the doorway his hand came to rest upon the door handle, that familiar soft expression of concern sneaking back up across his face.

“If you wanted… I could stay until you fall asleep?" There was a distinct shyness about it, like he was genuinely afraid of what your reaction may be. "Just to see if it would help?" 

You blinked at him once, twice, needing a moment to process the words he was saying before it actually clicked in your mind. Face growing hot, you prayed your expression didn't fully give away your embarrassment as an image wormed itself into your brain, an image of yourself in Vash's arms, his lips resting on the jut of your collarbone peeking from the hem of your shirt, of warm hands on the soft dip of your hips climbing higher, and higher…

Seeming to take your extended silence as rejection, or worse, disgust, Vash began to frantically backpedal, hand flying from the doorknob to tangle in the soft hair at the base of his neck. "You can say no! I just wanted to offer. Maybe that was a little weird, huh? Sorry, you can forget about it.”

But you didn't want to forget. Forgetting meant a return to… To whatever you and Vash were before that first night you woke up and saw him gazing at the stars. Forgetting meant pulling away again, faking a smile, pretending there was nothing there when you so desperately wanted there to be. Forgetting meant not acknowledging that he kept offering his hand to you, and that out of your own foolish anxieties you kept drawing away. 

And yeah, maybe things could still go catastrophically wrong. But wasn't that what you loved about Vash in the first place? How the entire world could fall apart around him and he'd still get up again, offer you a smile and put his best foot forward? 

You loved him. You loved him. And you were fucking sick of pretending you didn't. Your fingertips had closed around the fabric of his sleeve before you could second-guess yourself. 

"Stay with me."

And oh, oh, if the expression that crawled its way up Vash's face wasn't worth any and every possible humiliation, rejection, or vague discomfort. Red bloomed up from his collar, creeping up his neck into his cheeks and the tops of his ears. He blinked twice behind his oversized lenses, gaze flicking from your face to where you'd gripped his sleeve and back again a few times over. A thin, wobbly smile snuck across his lips, making his relief obvious despite his conscious efforts to hide it. A peek of sharp canines glinted from the gap as he shot you a crooked, sheepish grin, despite being nearly as red in the face as his signature coat.

"Y-Yeah!" He winced at the way his own voice cracked, oblivious to just how endearing you found it. "Yeah, heh, no problem! Let me, let me get my… I'll be right back. Five minutes? Give me five minutes, pinkie promise."

He even interlocked his pinkie with your own, a small, familiar laugh sneaking out before he slipped, momentarily, from your grasp. You watched as he stumbled down the hall to his own room, fumbled the door handle once, twice, banging his body into the wooden frame before managing to get it open, never once taking his eyes off you until the door slipped closed. Cute.

You stepped into your own room, clicking on the bedside lamp and flooding it in a warm, yellowed glow. Shedding your day clothes as quickly as possible, you kicked them into a heap in the corner and scrambled into your pajamas, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. Without Vash's buzzing, eager energy at your side you had just enough time before he returned to briefly feel incredibly embarrassed at your show of need, face growing hot as you replayed the little scene over and over in your mind. Your hand around his sleeve, his expressions, your choice of words… God, you were so obvious. Had he really not picked up on it at all? But he seemed so eager, as eager as you were at the very least. Maybe he wasn't the only one who had been a little oblivious lately.

True to his word, it couldn't have been more than five minutes before you heard a soft knock on the door to your room. Standing on the other side was Vash, not clad in his signature red jacket but rather his familiar, beige pajamas. The worn out shirt hung loose around the collar with the sleeves draping just long enough to cover half of his hands, the loose elastic of the sweatpants held tight with an old, white drawstring. His hair was floppy and now shower-damp, hanging partially in his face as he gave you that so soft, so sweet little smile.

"You look comfy." He said, voice as soft as his grin.

"I could say the same for you." You responded, cracking a similar smile. Stepping to the side you let him join you in your room, door closing with a soft click as a palpable air of… something simmered between you two. Tension? Nervousness? It felt like a melting pot of just about everything you had or could feel when it came to Vash. He stood awkwardly in the center of the room as you flitted around him towards the bed.

"You should probably get some rest, huh? I'll just grab a seat at…" He gestured vaguely towards one of the two chairs set at the table by the window, words dropping from his lips as he watched you pat the open space in the bed next to you. He blinked again, face flushing pink once more.

"...Only if you want to." You added softly. He visibly swallowed, nodding so gently you could have almost missed it, and set his glasses on the nightstand with a soft clack. Carefully, hesitantly, he pulled back the covers and let himself into the bed beside you, moving like he was afraid at any moment you were going to change your mind and ask him to leave. 

You would never. You wanted him beside you. At all times, always.

He clicked off the lamp, and the two of you were plunged into darkness. A single stream of moonlight filtered between the thin curtains, falling diagonally across the bedroom floor and providing just enough light for you to keep Vash's face in view. When the two of you shared a sleeping bag for the first time the closeness was a necessity, there was nowhere else for you to go in the tiny shared space. But even now, with the width of the bed slim but still far greater than a sleeping bag could provide, you couldn't help but press yourself close to him. As always he was warm, so warm, heat radiating under the thin covers to soothe you, a constant thrum of energy just beneath his skin even when he was relaxed and doe-eyed as he was with you right now, laying on his side mirroring you, unable to look away. 

In this moment you couldn't help but consider that Vash was more alive than you had ever been in your own lifetime, or that you ever would be. He was a walking enigma, incredibly powerful yet so gentle, capable of such inhuman feats but so intimately, painfully fragile. Maybe you'd never fully understand him the way you wanted to, maybe there would always be secrets he couldn't share or stories he wouldn't tell. But you didn't mind, not as long as he was yours and you were his.

"Hi." He murmured, breath hot against your lips, that small, sappy smile never leaving his own.

"Hi." You replied. "Is this… Is this okay?"

"Yes." There was a relief in his voice, a borderline reverence. His hand hovered, briefly, coming to rest on the small of your hip and sending a jolt of need crawling up your spine fast enough to give you a headrush. "Are we… okay?"

"Always."

He let out a low, shuddering breath, hand flexing around your hip. "I haven't… I want… I want…" His gaze flickered from your eyes to your lips and back again. He let out another breath, a short, warm huff as he hesitated, brow knit like even now he was afraid of the oncoming rejection, the inevitable hurt.

The two of you really had been completely oblivious, hadn't you?

You closed the gap yourself. Slowly, carefully, for no more than a few moments, you pressed your lips to his. He gasped when you did, a sharp, surprised inhale through his nose before his entire body seemed to melt into your several points of contact: your legs, his hand on your hip, your lips. You watched his eyes slide open again after you pulled away, crease in his brow receding as he blinked at you, almost owlishly.

"You kissed me." He murmured, that air of reverence returning to his voice.

"I did." You said it like it was the easiest thing in the world, and that's because it was.

"You'll… You'll always be in danger. You know that, right?"

"I do."

"We're always going to be moving. You wouldn't rather settle down somewhere nice?"

"Not if you're not there."

He sucked in another shaky breath, corners of his eyes growing glassy and wet. "It won't… It won't be easy. Being with me. It's hard."

"Vash." You cupped his face with your hand, forcing him to meet your gaze. "I promise you it's not. It's really not."

He positively beamed, knocking his forehead against yours as he burst into quiet giggles. "You're really amazing, you know? You're the most amazing person I've ever met."

"Shouldn't I be saying that to you?" Your own laughter joined his, and any hint of apprehension or concern Vash may have still held seemed to melt away in the face of your smile. "Now shush. Kiss me again."

He was clumsy, clearly overeager as he pressed his lips to yours once more. It started as another soft, fluttering thing, then a second, then a third, before you tipped your chin up and opened your mouth into the next kiss, inviting him to do the same. Fingers tangled in his soft hair, you pressed further into him, tasting honey and sunlight as you licked into his open mouth and he moaned against your lips. You didn't even realize he was moving you until you found yourself on your back, Vash's sturdy build boxing you in, knees framing your thighs as his teeth clicked wetly against yours and he groaned again at the feeling of your mouth moving against his. It was a messy, relief-stricken thing, like finding sweet, cool water after a day trekking across the open dunes. His still-flesh hand gripped your hip, fingertips indenting your soft skin, but his prosthetic hand cradled your cheek so gently, with such veneration it could have brought you to tears. There was a wet smack and a sharp gasp when he finally pulled away, like he was coming up for air. A single sticky strand of saliva still connected your lips, and as you swiped it off of his lower lip with a smile he gave you a sheepish grin in return.

"You gotta breathe through your nose, Vash."

"I know, I just…" He watches as you bring your thumb to your mouth, licking off the smear of spit there. He gulps, teeth worrying his lower lip. "...Just got a bit sidetracked, is all."

When he leaned back in a second time his target wasn't your lips, but the gentle slope of your neck. He placed a featherlight kiss upon you, relaxing when he heard your content hum and your fingers carded through the hairs at the base of his neck. Then he sucked a mark into the soft junction between your neck and exposed collarbone, teeth grazing and tongue lathing over the sensitive spot as you writhed beneath Vash's touch. His breath ghosted hotly over your neck, goosebumps prickling out across your skin as heat pooled low and eager in your stomach and you fisted one hand in the front of Vash's night shirt.

"Vash." You whined, and his low groan in response rumbled out against your already sensitive neck. "Vash." You moaned again, louder this time, needy but not completely sure what for. 

"Hmm?" His questioning hum was barely discernible from his soft, pleased groans, only the uptick at the end of the throaty sound cluing you in that Vash had even heard you at all. His lips rested on the curve of your jaw, thumb trailing back and forth across your cheekbone. You fisted the back of his shirt in one hand and tangled the other in his messy hair, whimpering at each barely-there kiss he left as he trailed his way up your jawbone to your ear. "You're so soft. So, so soft."

His lips brushed the shell of your ear and you couldn't help yourself, whining as your hips jerked up against his. His breath stuttered and he jolted back from you to blink with wide, shocked eyes. Immediately a hot flush of shame coursed through your body, searing behind your eyes and cheeks. Was he disappointed? Disgusted? 

"I'm so sorry." If you could shrink back and disappear you would, but it's not like there was anywhere for you to go. Vash's brow furrowed again for a moment before his eyes blew wide once more, immediately taking your face in both hands as gently as he could.

"No, no it's alright! There's nothing wrong you just- just surprised me a little! That's not bad! I just- Aw jeez." He pressed a kiss to your lips, then your nose, then your forehead. "Please don't cry. I promise I'm not upset or anything, so don't cry, okay?"

"I'm not gonna cry! I'm just… embarrassed." You mumbled between squished cheeks, eyes trained down and away from Vash's sympathetic smile.

“There’s no need to be.”

“I know that.” You whined, covering your eyes with the palm of your hand. You felt another fluttering kiss on the tip of your nose, and peeked through your fingers to find Vash beaming at you. There was a cautious apprehension behind his eyes now though, a similar fear to what you knew you were currently feeling.

“There is, uh, something I have to tell you though.” He fidgeted a little, not quite meeting your gaze. “It’s just that my body is kinda… Well, it’s a little… different? And I don’t want to freak you out or anything. But if you do freak out… That’s probably completely valid, I’ll be honest.”

“Vash, I’ve seen your scars before. You know I don’t mind, right?”

He winced a little, lower lip jutting out in a bit of a pout. “...That’s not what I’m talking about. It’s a… It’s a PLANT thing.”

“Oh.” As Vash sat back on your thighs you propped yourself up a bit to meet his gaze. “Well, that’s alright too. I won’t judge you for anything you can’t control, Vash.”

“Yeah but it’s… It’s pretty out there.”

“Try me.”

Vash opened his mouth, then shut it, then opened it, then shut it again, blush crawling its way up his cheeks with his fisted hands tucked into his lap. He twiddled his thumbs, worried his lower lip with his sharp teeth, and still failed to meet your gaze. 

"It's, uh, it's just that it's a bit… different. My, uh… y'know?"

You'd been pretty oblivious to Vash's affections for you, but that didn't mean you were stupid. The way his gaze flickered down and then back up again when he spoke? The way one hand fisted the fabric of his pants and the other remained firmly tucked between his thighs, not quite against his crotch but definitely blocking it from your view? You could at least put those puzzle pieces together.

You rubbed the top of his knee with your hand, and tension seemed to melt from his stance with your touch alone.

"Would you… be willing to show me?"

He grimaced a bit, continuing to nibble on his lower lip until you ran the thumb of your other hand across it, trying to soothe the reddened skin. "I just don't want to freak you out or anything, is all."

"You really think at this point there's anything you could do or say to freak me out?" You bumped your forehead against his, the same way he had for you just moments ago. "Hate to break it to you, but you're kind of stuck with me now." He barked out a laugh, saying nothing but finally meeting your gaze, so you continued. "I don't want you to feel like you have to make yourself uncomfortable for my sake, but I also don't want you to run away from me. You trust me, right?"

"I do."

"Then trust that I won't run away either. I promise. I just want you, Vash, that's all."

He sucked in a shuddering breath, nodding softly against you. "Yeah. I want you too." Looking up at you through his eyelashes, he flashed you a cartoonish pout. "Maybe if someone gave me another kiss I'd get a bit braver?"

"You dork." You giggled, cupping his face in your hands and kissing him breathless once more. He leaned into you again, mouth open and eager, finally letting his hands trail back up your body where you'd wanted them. "Wait, switch with me."

"Hrmm? Whoa!" You wrestled Vash to the side, rolling the two of you over until you were now the one straddling his hips, not the other way around. He blinked up at you, mouth agape and lips slightly slick as he took in your form in the pale moonlight. "Oh. I could get used to a view like this."

With a single, sudden twist upwards of your arms, you pulled off your shirt and let it fall somewhere off the side of the bed, baring your chest to him fully. Vash gasped, hands squeezing against your soft sides as his gaze raked over your form.

"This one too…" He murmured. Trailing your fingertips down the length of his chest, you fiddled with the hem at the bottom of his shirt, lifting a bit but not quite tugging.

"This okay?" 

He nodded, hands joining yours to help wrestle his shirt off over his head. Immediately you were upon him, a featherlight trail of lips and fingertips upon every inch of scarred skin, tracing the outline of the metal reinforcement over his left pectoral as gently as you could. Your thighs squeezed around his hips, the front of his loose pajama pants tented and straining where they met your clothed core. He was big, that much was obvious. Another roll of your hips, not accidental this time but intentional, left Vash gasping out a sharp, labored wheeze as his hips finally jerked forward against yours.

"Sensitive." He panted, shuddering helplessly as his hips stuttered forward again. "C-Careful, it's sensitive."

That sensitive, with several layers of clothes still between you? Now you were getting really curious. You rolled your hips again, friction sparking pleasure up your spine but it was nothing compared to the way Vash positively mewled, back arching and hips rutting erratically to meet you. A dark, damp spot was beginning to seep through the fabric at the tip. You cupped his clothed length with your hand as gently as you could. 'Sensitive.' You reminded yourself. But a bolt of surprise rocketed through you instead when you could swear that, just for a moment, you felt his cock squirm against you, pressing up into your hand without the aid of his hips.

"Please don't freak out." Vash wheezed. You squeezed his length again, pressing in firmly, but it was impossible to tell what writhing was from Vash squirming around and what came from, well, Vash squirming around.

"I'm not freaking out." You reassured him, and in all honesty you weren't. Were you surprised? Of course! But there wasn't really anything about Vash that could truly "freak you out" anymore, even this. You stroked his length through the fabric once more and watched that wet spot at the tip bloom farther and darker, Vash shivering like he'd just touched a live wire. "Is it okay to take these off? Only if you're okay with it."

You hooked a finger into the waistband and waited, Vash's gaze laser focused in on your hand. Slowly, carefully, he nodded. Fingers looped in the elastic of both his pajama pants and his boxers, you gave him plenty of time to change his mind as you tugged them down, Vash letting out a quiet, hitched gasp when his cock sprung free.

Well, Vash certainly wasn't lying about it being different. Arching upwards from between his legs was what you could only describe as a tentacle, thick base sprouting from slick folds at the apex of his thighs. It curled upwards towards his belly and tapered slim at the tip, beading semi-translucent liquid that dribbled down the length of the shaft. It wasn't the same shade as his skin; It was closer to a bluish-white, marked up the length with abstract patterning similar to the glyphs on the outside bulb of a PLANT. Vaguely you wondered if it was always out like this, or if it settled itself snugly within those wet, petal pink folds when he wasn't aroused. You had to think it did, if Vash was as sensitive as he made himself out to be, otherwise he'd be on the verge of cumming with each step he took.

On second thought, that wasn't a bad image either.

Vash gulped, squirming a bit under your gaze, knees pulling together but unable to close fully with your body in the way. "So, uh, you're not screaming. I'm gonna go ahead and take that as a good sign!" You smoothed a hand up the length of his thigh, pausing right at the junction of his hip, and his cock twitched towards you subconsciously like a writhing tendril. He seemed to shrink in on himself a little at this, shoulders pulling up towards his ears as he anticipated your reaction.

"Vash, God Vash… Do you even have any idea how pretty you are?" He had to know, you couldn't let him wake up tomorrow and just bumble around for the rest of his life not knowing. He was ethereal, scarred skin painted in hues of blush pink, cheeks burning, eyes soft and wide… He had to be a PLANT, because it just wasn't feasible for a normal human to be this achingly beautiful. "You're so, so pretty Vash."

"Oh." His breathing shuddered, hips twitching when you squeezed down on the fat of his thigh. 

"Sensitive, right? I'll be careful, just tell me if it's too much, okay?" Fingertips trailing off the junction of his hip, you finally, finally, closed your palm around his length. It was hot, slick to the touch everywhere you put your fingers on it, and you could swear for just a moment that those glyphs pulsed with a faint blue-white light as Vash whimpered. "This is okay?"

He nodded furiously, hands fisting the bed sheets as he all but gasped for air. "Good! It's good. I haven't, it's been a long time since I- ohhh please…" Another bead of thick, slippery pre-cum drooled from the tip, slicking your palm as you moved it so slowly up the length of his cock, squeezing slightly on the downstroke and making Vash's back go concave against the mattress as he moaned. Heat burned low in your core, and you wrestled a hand down the front of your pajama pants to stroke your own slick folds directly. You couldn't help but picture how the silky writhing of his cock would feel inside of your pussy, slick oozing around where your bodies would meet as it pushed upwards into your aching core…

"Me too…" Vash groaned, hand grabbing for the waistband of your pants as he struggled to sit up. "Lemme touch you too, please." You stumbled off the bed for only a moment, but it was still far enough to make Vash whine at your lack of contact. Slick from Vash's cock smeared across the fabric as you wrestled both the pants and your underwear onto the floor before crawling back into Vash's lap like you couldn't stand to be away from him for another moment. His hands found your hips the moment you were within reach, rubbing soothingly up and down the outer curve of your thighs as he stared down at you, eyes swirling with arousal and adoration.

"Beautiful." He murmured, pressing his lips once more against the curve of your neck. "Tell me what you like, tell me how I can make you feel good."

Hand around his wrist, you guided him to the dark patch of hair between your legs. His fingers crooked carefully, curiously, two fingertips swiping upwards through your wet folds and catching over your clit. He shuddered when you moaned, the very act of giving you pleasure seeming to do him the same. Finding your clit again, he rubbed over it with his fingertips in slow, almost soothing circles.

"That's good." You cooed, taking him in hand again. "You're so good for me, Vash, such a good boy."

"Yes!" He moaned, his metal hand coming around to grip your ass, urging you to roll your hips against his hand. "Yes, 'm good, I'm so good." Sharp teeth dragged over your collarbone, just hard enough to send a prickle of pleasure up your spine. As you began to rock your hips he pressed his hand further in, letting you grind your clit against the heel of his palm as he slid his middle finger into your entrance. The intrusion was slick, effortless, and you couldn't help but moan as he curled his finger against your soft, hot walls. You pumped him again, another thick glob of pre-cum dribbling over your fingers as his cock wriggled in your grasp. "You feel so good inside." He continued to babble, drooling against your neck as he whined and gasped. "Wanna… wanna feel you, so bad…"

"Yeah?" You purred, shifting your hips further up his. With how keyed up you were you doubted you'd even be able to last more than a thrust or two with Vash inside you, but still you wanted. Nudging his hand out from between your legs, you shifted your hips down to trap his cock in between your pussy and his tense stomach as you rolled your hips and let it slip messily back and forth between your folds. Vash positively howled, head tossed back against the pillows as his other hand came around to grip your ass as well.

"Yes! Yes, please, oh please wanna make you feel so good." Shifting your hips to align his tip with your entrance, he peppered wet kisses across your neck and up your cheek as you hovered over him. You tipped your head to catch his lips with your own, moaning into his eager mouth as you finally let him nudge into you. Euphoria crackled up your spine with each small movement, an almost unbearable heat between the two of you as he shifted you so gently down his slick cock. It was almost effortless the way he slid inside, your combined wetness leaving no room for pain around the incredible pleasure as he stuffed you full, coiling and massaging your walls as you finally found your thighs resting on his and your lungs gasping for air.

"Oh, oh Vash." He shuddered at the sound of your name leaving his lips, hips snapping forward and once again driving the breath out of you as white-hot pleasure exploded behind your eyelids.

"Sorry, 'm sorry, not gonna last. Gotta make you cum, fuck, please cum for me…" His chest pressed to yours and his face pressed into the curve of your jaw, his hips thrust forward again, and again, wriggling one hand in between your sweaty bodies to thumb eagerly at your clit, rolling the swollen bud beneath the pad. You wailed, pleasure prickling tears at the corners of your eyes as your stomach coiled tighter, pushed you higher. 

A sharp blossom of pain erupted from the crook of your neck, making you cry out as Vash growled against your skin. His sharp canines dug into your sensitive flesh, bruising the soft skin there and blooming pain and pleasure into a swirling cocktail of overwhelming sensation. You dug your nails hard into the flesh of his back, shivering helplessly in his grip. The desert had been cruel, and crueler still had been its people, but you would make sure that any marks you left on Vash would be ones he wasn't ashamed to show, to feel.

"Love you." You sobbed, bleary-eyed and desperate for release, babbling similar nonsense to Vash as you tumbled into pleasure-drunk ecstasy. "Love you, I love you I love you Vash!"

He wailed, teeth pressing further into your soft neck, hips stuttering forward once, twice more before he finally shuddered, pouring his load into your awaiting core. Molten heat flooded your pussy, sending you tumbling into your own release. Rapture flooded your senses, writhing in Vash's hold as waves of pleasure overtook you, walls fluttering helplessly around his length again, and again, and again. He was spilling so much into you, you could feel it pooling out around where the two of you were joined, slicking his thighs and inevitably staining the sheets below. Even as your own orgasm began to subside, little aftershocks of pleasure sparking in your mind, he was still spilling more into your fluttering heat.

"I love you." He sobbed into your neck, drool and tears dampening your skin as he clutched you tight, so tight. "Love you so much." His tongue lathed over the bruise his teeth had left behind, a silent apology for daring to leave a single mark upon your body. With a final, shaky thrust of his hips, he seemed to spill the last of his cum into you, muscles relaxing with a stifled groan. You curled a hand in the hair at the base of his neck, pressing a kiss to his temple as he nuzzled into you. He whined as his cock seemed to slip from your heat of its own accord, another gush of hot slick spilling from your entrance as it went limp.

"I've got you, baby." You cooed. Slumping gently into his lap and ignoring the sticky-slick feeling cooling between your bodies, you let yourself melt fully into Vash's gentle hold.

"...They're probably gonna charge you extra for cleaning, you know?" He quipped, and you could feel him grimace a little at the tacky feeling between your thighs. "A lot extra."

"I'll take my chances." 

He guffawed against your neck, dragging you down to the mattress with him in a sticky heap. You curled into the curve of his body, head resting on his shoulder. His arm immediately rose to curl around you, pulling you tight against his side.

"Mmh, we should probably clean up." You mumbled, eyelids already beginning to flutter.

"...Five minutes?" He rumbled, pressing his nose into the crook of your jaw.

"Mmm… Five minutes."

#vash x reader #vash the stampede x reader #trigun x reader #trigun stampede #vash the stampede #trigun #my writing #long post #alien biology vash

[strawurberries]

Stretchmarks

Summary: Vash learns about those little markings he's seen on his lover, and oh God does he fall head over heels.

Authors Note: This is written with Tristamp! Vash in mind, and this idea was sparked by this post :) This is written as a fem! reader. I hope you all enjoy! (Also, here's your tag @blackkiwi! I hope you like it :) I went in a bit of a different direction so I might revisit this idea in the future!!)

Warnings: Mild nudity, sexual themes, self-hate.

Vash didn’t understand it—how could someone so beautiful, holding something so unique and precious, hate themselves and their markings? He felt bad for staring, he really did, but the damp air from the shower seemed to settle around her, water droplets becoming stars and her eyes morphing in a galaxy of possibilities. She, though, didn’t seem to understand his awe. All she saw was the man she loved staring at a part of her she didn’t hate, per se, but rather didn’t love completely. He knew he should’ve looked away, apologized and let her know that he was stunned with adoration, not disgust. Yet he didn’t. Like the fool he was, and always will be, he didn’t have the bravery to confess.

“Ah, sorry,” with a nervous grin she had tried to cover her hips, where the most prominent of her stretch marks were. “I didn’t know you were coming back so soon.” She grabbed her things and shuffled back into the bathroom, wearing only her underwear and a towel loosely draped over her shoulder, “I was just getting my clothes.” With a quiet click, the bathroom door shut and the room was plunged into a somber darkness. 

Idiot, he bit at himself, why did you just stare? The patterns though, those curlings lines and loveable little dots and spots, it reminded him of himself; when he looked in the mirror and saw his face staring back, covered in blue lines that marked him as alien, foreign. Was she. . . like him? He turned to look at the bathroom door, listening to the quiet rustling within. No, he thought, she’s human. But there was something so remarkable about those lines, he couldn’t stop thinking.

Like me, she’s like me. 

Later they sat in their shared room, the silence acting as a tyrant, holding its grip tight and solid over the melancholic atmosphere. Neither one had spoken since she had retreated to the bathroom an hour earlier; she being silent out of fear and embarrassment, and he out of nervousness and curiosity. 

After finishing getting ready for the night, she laid in her bed across the room. Vash, on the other hand, was sitting criss-crossed in his, staring at his fumbling hands. 

“You know,” he said, cringing at the abruptness of his voice, “I think you’re really pretty.”

She shuffled slightly in bed, blankets falling off her shoulders, “thank you, I appreciate it. You’re pretty as well.”

He blushed at the compliment—thump, thump, thump, beat his heart. It roared at him to confess, to open his mouth and say everything he wanted too. He didn’t. He fiddled with his hands and lightly tapped his cheek to cool the scorching redness that had overtaken him. “Earlier,” his voice was quiet, a pip-squeak of a noise, “I didn’t mean to stare.”

“It’s okay.”

He started to disengage his prosthetic arm, small clicks and whirs making the silence seem louder than before. “I—” he gently set his arm on the ground beside his bed, rubbing the raw and sore flesh. He didn’t often sleep without his arm, for a fear of being attacked in the middle of the night, but his body couldn’t handle it much longer. It pulled and gnawed on his shoulders, making his entire body ache with a pain he can only describe as deafening. “I hope I didn’t hurt your feelings, but if I did, I apologize.”

She finally turned over, watching as he hopelessly stared at her with a twinge of fear and. . . something else she couldn’t describe. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” she smiled softly, “I was jus’ thinking.” She could never be mad at him—not that she was mad at him in the first place, in fact, she had only felt mild embarrassment towards the whole situation. The day had been long, and even if he hadn’t caught her getting out of the shower, she would’ve been quiet and exhausted—, and looking at him now only made her feel like she was gazing at a kicked puppy.

He tilted his head, “about what?”

“My body,” she huffed and sat up, “you know those days?’ Her voice was a little quiet, less teasing than it usually was, and so, painfully somber.

He understood. Sometimes he’d sit out in the desert, watch the sunset and wonder why he felt so unnatural; as if he wasn’t a person, but a thing occupying space in a body that didn’t belong to him. And sometimes he’d cover up mirrors with his coat, afraid to look into them and see what he really looked like. And other times he’d look down at himself and shove back the tears because he was a mural of pain and he wouldn’t have it any other way but God, did he wish there were other options. And sometimes he’d simply lay in bed and think about everything he hated about himself, starting with his personality and then moving on to his actions, and then he’d think about his body and then he really felt the pain because he belonged to this prison of flesh and bone, this sacred thing, and he had managed to decimate it in so many ways it would never be able to recover. And, sometimes, he hated how he looked because she deserved better. And sometimes he, without any reason really, despised the man he was, and the way he looked. So, yes, he understood those days. He understood better than anyone really; and it made his heart hurt thinking she had felt the same way. 

In his eyes she was the most beautiful thing. She rivaled the stars, the ones he watched on that ship all those years ago. The greenery of flora and the nature of Earth couldn’t even compare. And even if some Goddess was to descend from the heavens, bearing all her glory and luxury at her bosom, he would deny it and find himself back in her arms. In his eyes, she was worth everything and more.

He stumbled over to her bed, momentarily forgetting himself as he slammed into the mattress with an abundant lack of grace and caution. “I get it, I do,” 

She blinked at him.

“Somedays I–I hate myself and sometimes I can’t even look in the mirror, and really almost everyday I can’t even look at myself,” he forgot he had taken his prosthetic off, trying to grab her face with his hand. He paused and cursed a little under his breath, stub awkwardly hanging between them. “I forgot I took that—okay whatever,” he used his other hand to grab her face, fingers tracing her jaw, “but you know what makes me feel better about myself?”

She huffed a little and laughed, crossing her arms. “What?” she asked playfully. 

“You.”

She smiled softly, “I’m glad I can help.” A little sliver of anxiety still rested in her eyes.

He took a deep breath and steeled his resolve. “Yeah, so, let me help you this time,” he sat back on his knees, suddenly realizing how close he was. “If–if that’s okay. . .?” All his confidence, his burning determination to help, dissipated into the air and floundered about his mind in a wave of unease and mild embarrassment. 

She glanced down at herself, thumbing the edge of her shirt before nodding, “alright,” she wrapped her arms around his neck, “you’ve convinced me.” She gave a nervous smile, one unsure of what was going to happen but trustful in the one before her—she had no doubts that he would keep her safe, happy, and comfortable.

He let out a goofy grin, slowly pushing her back onto the bed, “okay so um,” he stared down at her, blushing a delicious red as he slowly came to understand what position they were in. Her arms were slightly settled to the side, hands above her head and chest slowly rising with each suspenseful breath. Utterly divine, was the only description he could think of. “Uh, could you. .  uh, take your shirt off, maybe?” He wanted to cry when he realized his voice had cracked—uncool, so uncool.

She laughed, “alright, what are you really trying to do?” She grabbed the ends of her shirt and whisked it off, tossing it somewhere in the room. Neither of them really cared where it landed.

He waved his hand in the air and panicked, “no! No! I promise I’m not trying to do anything like that unless you want that—or, I mean, not right now! Uh, sorry!” His hands slapped over his face, covering the vague blue markings that had begun to peak through his skin.

She let out a boisterous laugh and grabbed his hips, lovingly drawing circles into his skin, “calm down, I was joking, pretty boy.”

The tips of his ears turned red, nearly drowning out his wonderful, brilliant blue, “pretty boy,” he mumbled. “Where’d that come from?” he squeaked out. 

“Jus’ tellin’ the truth,” she hummed, “now, why is my shirt off?”

“Oh!” his hands flew off his face and came to settle on her torso, nervously pressing into her skin. “I wanna—well, can I see your markings?” he leaned a little closer, tempted to put his forehead to hers, but he was too scared—what if she knows what that means? What if she hates doing that? What if she hates me?

“Markings?” she raised an eyebrow, “what do you mean?”

“On your hips.”

“Hips?”

He gently hooked the edge of her pants, looking up at her for permission and when she gave it, he pulled them down slightly, revealing the little lines he had been so obsessed with earlier. Despite everything in him trying to keep his smile back, he couldn’t. “These,” he mumbled, tracing the marks with his fingers. His markings, no longer dull and scared, flowed to the surface of his skin and danced along his fingers. “They’re really pretty.” He wanted to see them in their entirety, observe how they rested along her skin and how they intertwined with one another—that would require less. . . clothing, and the thought made him blush madly, making his markings blink a bright blue for a moment.

She grabbed his hand and gave him a questioning look, “they’re not markings, they’re stretchmarks.”

He tilted his head.

“It’s like. . . little scars from when our skin stretches or shrinks too fast,” she smiled somberly, “they’re not as precious as your markings.”

He huffed and went back to caressing her skin, “I still think they’re amazing.”

“Not many people do,” she closed her eyes and savored the feeling of his touch, “so I appreciate it. Thank you.”

He hesitated and pulled his hands back, “do you. . . do you have more?”

She hummed. 

“Can I see them? If that’s okay with you?!”

She sighed and opened her eyes, “you love them that much?” A slight bit of hesitance, disbelief.

A child-like joy seeped into his voice, “yes! They’re like mine, but they’re so much prettier.”

She blinked, a small embarrassed expression coming to rest upon her face. “I mean, if you really want, I can show you.” 

He grinned excitedly and sat patiently on the bed as his lover slowly shimmed out of her pants, leaving them hidden by only two, thin articles of clothing that covered barely anything (not that he minded, but he was trying his hardest to focus on the markings solely—he didn’t want to be a creep. He was also trying to ignore the fact that this was only the third time he had seen her so vulnerable before. It made his heart soar, thinking that she trusted him so). After a moment, she returned back to bed and presented her thighs, where stretch marks were painted across her skin like a mural of heaven. “Here’s some more. They’re mostly on my legs and hips.”

“Oh,” he breathed out, “they’re a lot prettier up close.” He leaned down and pressed his forehead to her legs, closing his eyes. For a moment, he could’ve sworn he felt her very soul, as if he was connecting to a plant, and he shuddered out a sigh. “So, so, pretty.” He was lost in her now, gently tracing his fingers along her skin, nose buried into the side of her leg and he cherished every giggle and breathy laugh that came from his lover. 

“I never knew you’d like ‘em so much,” she tangled her fingers in his hair, tugging slightly when he got a little too dazed and trailed his head up further than he should’ve.

He kissed the inside of her thigh, “they’re so. . . you’re so beautiful.”

She smiled softly, “you are too.” 

The compliment flew over his head, focused solely on the Goddess before him. The divinity that had graced his presence. He sloppily kissed her thigh again, trailing his love up and up and—

She tugged on his hair, “hey,” she warned, “you’re getting a little too close there, pretty boy.”

He stared up and blinked, chin settled in between her legs and nose dangerously close to the bottom of her underwear. It took a moment for him to come back to reality, realizing that he was in a position he’d only dreamed about. “Oh,” he blinked again. “I’m sorry!” he shot up and rested back on his knees. With her hand still in his hair, he was slightly bowed forward, eyes deliciously plastered to her legs. 

“Don’t apologize,” she whispered, “you’re fine.”

He whined a little, “I made you uncomforta—”

“When did I say that?”

He peered up at her through his eyelashes, watching her coy smirk expand into a sly smile. He stumbled over his words and quickly decided it would be better to shut up. What’s happening? Wasn’t she supposed to be yelling at him? Ashamed he had given into his desires a little too much? This was supposed to be about her, and how wonderful she was. Not him and his inability to hide his lustful curiosity. 

“In fact,” she tugged on his hair a little more, forcing him to crawl halfway on top of her to stop the dull pain in his scalp—he really didn’t mind it though, which made him rethink some things about himself. “I really enjoyed it.”

His markings glowed so bright, she had to look away for a moment. She snickered and brought one hand to his chin, the other leaving his hair and slowly trailing down his chest. “If I’m being honest,” she sighed, “I didn’t really like my stretch marks. They’re ugly and gross, but,” she stopped trailing her hand down when she got to the hem of his pants, “you made me feel better about them.” She smiled.

“I’m glad!” he nervously grinned and tried to adjust himself so the position would be less. . . intimate, but she didn’t let him. Part of him was begging her to do something, and the other part of him was screaming with fear and embarrassment so loudly he almost didn’t hear what she said next.

“So,” she drawled out, “if it’s okay with you, can I help you feel good?”

“What?” he squeaked. “Like–what? What does that mean?” Oh my god, he cried to himself, I’m an idiot! He beat down a whine that threatened to erupt from his mouth and squeezed his eyes shut. He wanted the ground to swallow him up and never let him go.

She wrapped her legs around his waist and pressed herself into him, hips bucking up and creating a delicious friction. He sucked in a strangled gasp and let his face fall into the crook of her neck, “sen–sensitive!” he cried. He gripped her waist, fumbling for a moment before once again realizing he had taken his prosthetic off. Vaguely he wondered if he should put it back on, but she bucked again and all thoughts fell out of his mouth as he cried.

“What do you say?” she purred, “up for a little fun?”

“You’re a,” he panted and ground his hips into her, muffling his moans in her flesh, “a tease.” He shouldn’t be doing this, should he? Should he have asked before he pressed himself into her, or was that normal? He didn’t know what he was supposed to be doing here.

“C’mon pretty boy, I have to hear a yes,”

“Y–yes!” He whined and ignored the blue light that bathed them both—this is so embarrassing.

“Good boy.”

He squeaked and buried his face deeper into her neck, “oh my god.” This was going to be the death of him—not that he really minded.

#vash #vash stampede #vash trigun #trigun vash #vash the stampede #vash 98 #tristamp #vash x reader #vash x you #vash x y/n #trigun x reader #trigun x you #trigun x y/n #vash the stampede x reader #vash the stampede x you #vash the stampede x y/n #trigun #Strawberry writes

[benkeibear]

⋆꙳✧༄ Good boy

❖ Character: Vash

❖ Reader: female | AFAB

❖ Wordcount: 1.9k

❖ Summary: Vash is a needy puppy in heat who gets caught jerking off with your panties

❖ WARNINGS: dom!leaning reader, dog hybrid Vash, masturbation, cum eating, handjob, oral (giving and receiving), creampie, knotting

꒰ ͜͡➸ Back to Kinktober Masterlist

Vash was always a good boy, making sure the house is well guarded as well as cleaned while you went to work, eagerly greeting you at the door the second you came back home. “You're back! Finally!” He said happy, immediately taking your bag and your jacket from you, trying to help you unwind the second you stepped inside your home. “Have you been a good boy today?” You ask amused, able to smell your favorite dinner in the oven already. Vash only nodded, waiting for his daily headpats from you and you giggled at the sight, head tilted downwards and his tail wagging so fast it became a blurred line. “My good boy” you praised and ruffled through his fluffy hair, making the little ears that adorned his head flop slightly.

It filled you with pride and joy seeing your little puppy so happy and comfortable around you, remembering the time when you just got him. He was in a terrible shape, not taken care of well by his previous owners and fresh wounds covered his body that was already littered with scars - and yet he was trusting and friendly, cautious of course but he still tried to see the positive things in everything. This trait is probably what made you keep him, the way he was so selfless and really wanted to take care of you without expecting anything in return from you but you gave him an endless amount of love these past few months he was with you.

By the time you finished your dinner you noticed something was off, Vash was whimpering slightly and his ears laid back to his head. “Hey… are you okay? What's wrong?” You asked concerned, feeling his forehead gently and frowning when he was burning up a little. “Let's get you to bed early, should I hold you?” You asked caring but he shook his head, moving away from your touch which you weren't used to. You just figured that he didn't like to be touched when sick or that he didn't want to risk getting you sick as well so you let him trail off to bed alone before joining him hours later. The entire night you kept your distance instead of cuddling up close for warmth and comfort like you two usually do and the way he even whimpered in his sleep made your heart ache.

Morning came fast despite the rough night both of you had and Vash found himself sticking to your side, legs wrapped around yours, arms clinging to your torso. “Please don't leave… stay home today… I need you” he whined but you only cupped his face, a pout appearing on his handsome face as he leaned into your touch. “I can't, baby… I have that important meeting in the morning but I promise I’ll come home right after” you promised, your heart threatening to burst at the crushed expression he wore now but he understood - you probably didn't know what was going on anyways, never having owned a Puppy hybrid before so he couldn't blame you and let you get up, wanting to take care of it himself.

He watched you leave like he did every morning, trying to behave normal and trying to act like he just felt a little sick over night and needs some extra cuddles that day which you gladly provided, even leaving work early just to take care of your beloved puppy. This wasn't exactly the case but he didn't have the heart to tell you that he was in a rut, needing to bury himself inside of you and filling you up repeatedly but he could take care of himself… or at least so he thought. His little ears didn't pick up the sound of your keys turning, neither did he hear your worried calls for him, his whimpers of your name accompanied by the slick sound of his own cum aiding as lube while stroking his achingly hard cock, overly sensitive from all the times he made himself cum already, a small puddle on the floor and some of it dripping off his torso. Even if his ears were occupied, he should have at least noticed your smell filling his senses but his nose was buried in a pair of your panties that he stole out of the laundry, the scent of your cunt so intense and addicting to him.

“Vash?” You asked in a soft voice, unsure if you were concerned or shocked by the scene playing out in front of you. Your little puppy perked his head up, the collar jingling with the sudden movement and his cum shooting all over the floor in front of him. He wished he could disappear in that moment, shying away from you but you were able to stop him before he entirely died from embarrassment. Your palm on his arm made him shudder, a burning sensation spreading through his entire body and the embarrassment was forgotten, big eyes looking up at you “help… please” he whimpered, dick twitching again already without ever letting him catch a break.

The mess he made of the floor and himself let you figure that he's been at this for hours, probably since you left in the morning and you felt so bad for him, giving him a warm smile and kneeling down to him. “Are you in a rut?” You asked bold, making him blush further as he nodded affirmatively. “I've read about that when I educated myself about owning a puppy hybrid… it's okay baby boy, you're my good boy, aren't you?” You asked with a soft voice, your hand traveling from his strong biceps towards his chest, smearing a few pearls of his cum over his pebbled nipples which made him shudder, goosebumps forming over his entire body. “But you've been such a naughty boy, stealing my underwear… do you think I should punish you for that?” You asked, a smirk growing on your lips when he pouted but he nodded, knowing he's not allowed to steal your panties. A little yelp escaped his pouting lips when you pinched his sensitive nipples before tugging his face close to the floor by the collar he wore - something he wanted to do, proud of being your good boy. “Clean up the mess you just made” you ordered, trying to sound stern when all you wanted was to help him feel better but he wanted to be punished first, letting him lap at the spurts of cum on the floor while you fondled his tight balls, so pretty on display with his ass in the air like that. Once he was done you gave a small slap to each of his butt cheeks and allowed him to sit up again “look at you, my good boy” you cooed as you reached for his aching length, making him cry out in pleasure from how sensitive he was after all these orgasms. “P-please… I need you” he begged, gently fucking your hand and you allowed him, pumping his shaft and wrapping your lips around the tip to reward him for good behavior. The cum he used as lube tasted bitter on your tongue but it didn't taste bad, craving to taste some more of him as your tongue teased the little slit on top of his tip and Vash didn't mean to but he pushed your head down on his length, no longer gently fucking your hands, now pumping himself into your warm mouth but you didn't protest.

You knew how much he needed this and he waited the entire day for you without a single complaint so you let him fuck your mouth with utmost care, his sweet moans and whimpers rising in pitch the closer he got. To say it was sloppy was an understatement, your saliva dribbling down his balls and your nose nestled into the small bush at the base. What finally sent him over the edge was your hands fondling his balls, smearing them with your spit and gently squeezing them just the way he liked it. Your name echoed off the walls in a lewd scream, his cum shooting down your throat before he pulled himself out of your mouth, kissing you hungry. Little thank you’s were whispered between kisses and tears threatening to spill from his eyes letting you know that this meant more to him than just getting off - it was personal - it was a need for you and your love.

The smell of your arousal filled his nostrils, not having noticed how you tugged your pants down just enough to reveal your glistening slit while he kissed you. “Can I? You mean it?” He asked excited yet flustered, finally able to make you his forever. All you could do was nod and get on all fours for him, your cunt dripping with arousal. Finding him desperately fucking his hand while sniffing your underwear turned you on more than you thought it would and the way he was so desperate for you only made it worse. His tail was wagging fast when he licked a long stripe all the way from your clit to your puckered hole before stuffing his eager tongue into your heat, dying to taste your juices. You moaned so helplessly, not expecting him to eat you out like a man starved but he didn't want to stop this, slender fingers rubbing and gently pinching your puffy clit while his tongue was lapping all over your folds or fucking your tight entrance until the knot in your stomach exploded, your arousal coating his tongue and resulting him to cum untouched while he whined and whimpered into your folds.

You almost had to pry him away after your third orgasm, dying to feel his dick inside of you and who was he to deny you that? With shaking hands he lined his bulbous tip up with your slick core and causing a loud moan to erupt from both of you - he fit so perfectly inside of you and hit all the right spots so that neither of you lasted long. Vash felt your walls clamp down and the moment you screamed his name in ecstasy it was over for him, panting hard and he really wanted to pull out but your cunt sucked him in so good that he just couldn't stop himself. “Fuck- fuck I'm so sorry” he whined loudly and for a second you didn't know what he's apologizing for until your eyes went wide, feeling the giant knot stretching you further than you've ever been stretched. His hot cum was spurting against your insides, your name falling from his lips in cries of pure pleasure and the knot keeping it all inside of your pussy. “I’m so sorry” he mumbled as he rested his forehead between your shoulder blades but you whimpered, the stretch borderline painful but the way you felt so connected to him now made it into something pleasurable. “Feels good… can we stay like this?” You asked breathless, not wanting this moment between the two of you to end and Vash only humped his hips against yours in a silent agreement and to let you feel that he was far from being done - cock still hard. His shallow thrusts right against your sweet spot made you moan again, only waiting until the knot swells off so he can fuck you properly again only to knot you to him again and again.

Networks: @enchantedforest-network @themovingcastlez @planetonet @bitchcraftinc

#trigun stampede x reader #trigun stampede smut #vash x reader #vash smut #vash x you #trigun x reader #trigun smut #vash the stampede #trigun vash #—Rhys kinktober 2023

[skelebellie]

affections towards reader

nb!reader x meryl, vash, wolfwood, and knives

NSFW headcannons involved, minors do not interact.

(nsfw is in red, if you’d like to skip it)

this is my first time writing smut lol. if you’ve got any constructive criticism please let me know.

———————————

meryl

meryl loves physical touch. she will constantly hold your hand in public, and if your not walking then she will sit close enough to have your legs touching. if your comfortable enough then she will make the excuse of “needing to save money” in order to share a bed with you. it intentions are never sexual, just in the loving nature that she feels most safe wrapped in your arms.

she loves to offer her thighs for those short naps. she knows she isn’t the most well endowed but you knock out moments within laying down.

meryl also likes to show her love though acts of service. she might take over some of your work to lessen the burden on you. maybe she might clean your clothes after a rough day through a sandstorm, making sure to part out all the sand prior.

she’s the opposite in bed. she’s an absolute pillow princess, her back arched as her thighs pressed against your head as you eat her out for hours. your just trying to show your appreciation for her, you know?

being in bed with her is something sacred to her. its a moment of absolute intimacy and she wants to spend every part of it clawing and grasping your body, each shock of pleasure causes her to pine at you. you never leave the bed without a scatter of marks and hickies.

vash

this man is the biggest trinket collector in the entire world, and you are not safe from him. if he sees something that reminds you of him, its his. you have an endless collection of keychains gathering on your bag. “but it was so cute!! just like you!!!” its so hard to resist when hes giving you puppy dog eyes.

if he notices a hole in your gear or clothes, you’ll come back from a day of odd jobs to find something new on your bed, neatly folded and a small note laid on top of it. “i saw you needed new gear. dont pay me back :) “. if its something you have an emotional attachment too, he will wait for the perfect moment to snatch it from you. you will receive it back with an added patch, the color being practically identical. even if it means late nights and expensive prices, he will do anything to get it back to its original shape.

no one is safe from his nuzzling. if your really nervous or scared, he will rub his head against your head (or any available body part). when he pulls back his hair is messy and tussled in every direction. you think its a plant thing.

in bed vash is a man who dominates the “act of service” category. his whole goal while having sex is making you feel good, your pleasure is his and every moan you makes brings him closer and closer to orgasm. if hes having a rough day all he wants is to eat you out/suck you off for hours on end. if he had to spend the rest of life with his head between your thighs than he would willingly do so.

of course, mans is a switch. some days he craves your control, riding him as you hold his wrists together, preventing him from touching you. in times like this he doesn’t have to worry about the outside world, only how tight you are and your moans. on the flip side, he wants to pound you so hard you forget about whatever troubles may come. he wants to be the only thing you can focus on, you teary eyes unable to pull apart from his face as his hands roam your body, unable to separate himself from you for just a moment.

since hes so clingy, hes an enjoyer of cock warming. he feels amazing connected to you, and he loves to monitor you face to see how much more the both of you can take.

wolfwood

words of affirmation got this man redder than the two suns above gun smoke. and in turn, he loves to support you verbally. “you did great out there”, “we couldn’t have done it without you”, “your my everything”. on top of that, if you feel insecure or anxious about yourself be ready to hear wolfwood list off the 1000 reasons why he loves every part of you. don’t feel like your inconveniencing him, he would willingly tell the entire planet if you let him.

wolfwood loves physical touch, especially your body. his touch is much more intimate, but not necessarily sexual. he will spend car rides with you in his lap or his arm wrapped around your waist, him pulling you into his side. if you let him wander he will start kneading your love handles or the fat of your stomach. you cant go anywhere without this man giving a surprise ass grab. your his personal stress ball.

if you’ve got a muscular or skinny body, hes tracing patterns into your skin or letting his nails glide against you, sometimes causing you to giggle.

he also loves to hear you rant about things than interest you. he would spend hours listening to you rant about some new invention or fixation. it warms his heart to see you so fascinated with something. that glimmer of excitement in your eyes gets his heart pumping.

speaking of physical touch, wolfwood is a man dedicated to the act, especially in bed. he will keep edging himself over and over again because he just doesn’t want it to end. he doesn’t mind you cumming, in fact the more fucked out you look, eyes rolled in pleasure, the more he just wants to make the moment last. he will go a tantalizingly slow pace until your vocal enough to beg him for more.

wolfwood likes a bush. i said what i said.

fave position is you on your side, it gives him enough support to grab at you whenever he wants. when he cums hes got a death grip on you. your the only thinking grounding him from the amount of pleasure you give him.

knives (million knives/nai)

whether or not this emotionally constipated man realizes it, hes got a love language.

he craves quality time, whether that comes from a need to have you near him 24/7 in order to protect you, or that his mind races every time you leave, is none of his concern. he just feels more at peace with you by his side, or at most, with you in his line of sight.

he discovered he really likes bathing with you, its a moment of non-sexual intimacy he looks forward too. he take pride in cleaning every part of you to make sure you are his “perfect partner”, using only the highest quality in JuLai on your skin. the first time it happened he just kind of walked in on you, eyes affixed to your body as you missed a spot. “your not doing it right”, he muttered before stripping and getting in with you. he can always tell where to massage your body if you’ve got a particularly sore muscle.

he always wants you sitting in his meetings with conrad. even when conrad was initially against it. he wants you to see the paradise hes working for, how far hes willing to go for you to live in a perfect world molded just for you and his brotheren.

sex though? oh hes a physical man through and through. as much as he tries to be gentle with you and your human body, he cant help but fold you over in order to get a view of your pleasure ridden face. his thumb resting in your mouth so the only thing your full of is him.

its only natural for you to be under him, as much as he tries to involve you as an equal at work, he knows the perfect place for you is under him and worshipping the love he gives you. and the best time for that is sex.

hes got an obsession with cumming in you. having a part of him inside you makes you so much closer to him, much better than all the other lowly humans. he will keep cumming inside of you until you simply can’t hold anymore. it gets him hard knowing how much your filled of him, both physically and emotionally.

#goreguttdrabbles #trigun nai #million knives trigun #trigun fic #trigun stampede #trigun 98 #trigun meryl #trigun x reader #trigun knives #trigun vash #trigun #trigun maximum #trigun manga #vash trigun #vash x y/n #vash x reader #wolfwood x y/n #wolfwood x reader #meryl x reader #knives x reader #million knives #nicholas d. wolfwood #trigun smut #vash x reader smut

[seoafin]

And I know it's hard enough to love me (But I woke up in a safe house)

pairing: vash the stampede x fem!reader warnings/tags: babygirl vash, Depressing Pillow Talk, slighty nsfw towards the end, sharing one bed trope, title taken from let's get married (MITSKI VERS) word count: ~4.2k

“My husband and I would like a room,” you say with a smile as you wrap your arms around Vash’s and lean into him. You feel his body startle at your touch, his gaze on top of your head as you play the part of the excited bride. You think he might pass out on you if you don’t get him to room, and fast. “We’re on our honeymoon.”

“In this shithole of a town?” The innkeeper asks with a raised eyebrow, looking from you to Vash, who only lets out a sheepish chuckle as he scratches the back of his head. Despite his sluggish breaths, his slow blinking gaze, and the red slowly staining his shirt.

You shrug, trying hard not to be impatient. “There are worse places.”

There are. You’ve survived them. Compared to the slums of December or September, this shabby, worn inn is paradise.

“Yer right ‘bout that,” he laughs, acquiescing, as he tosses a ring of keys into your hand and takes your pouch of money. Vash is slumped into you now, and you can tell he’s trying his hardest not to place the full weight of his body on you. To anyone else, it would look as if he was clinging to you, the picture of a loving couple.

“Cheers to the happy couple!” the man calls out, tipping his hat down as the two of you move to the stairs in front of you. 

Vash grins brightly, and manages a cheery, polite, “Thank you!” as the two of you pass.

You can’t resist the huff of a laugh that escapes your lips as you make your way up the stairs, and then into the small, modest dust lined room.

Vash collapses on the bed with a sharp exhale, and you immediately move to take off his shirt but his hand stops you by the wrist before you can.

“Sleep,” he murmurs, eyelashes fluttering. His fingers tightens, just imperceptibly, (even on the brink of sleep, he’s overly conscious about his strength, you think). In a way, it feels like he’s wordlessly imploring you to stay. “Jus’ need sleep. Not gonn’ take long.”

You blink. His fingers loosen, and in a few seconds his breathing has evened out into steady breaths. You’re relieved. He’s already stopped bleeding. From the months you’ve traveled with him, known him, he’s healed quickly enough that any other person wouldn’t understand. You still don’t. Not fully. But you’ve never asked questions. And as long as he never asked you any questions, that was fine with you. 

You stay on the bed, by his side for a few minutes, watching him. You take off his sunglasses and put them on the nightstand after wiping the blood off them. He’s an unusually pretty man. Too pretty for No Man’s Land. You trace his face with your eyes. The beauty mark right under his right eye to his parted pink lips. Then down to the rise and fall of his chest to the plates of the cybernetic prosthesis of his left arm. 

Lost technology. Not many people had access to that kind of technology. Or the knowledge to build that arm, let alone repair it.  

Standing, you give him one last glance, reload your revolver and tuck it into the holster at your side, before you leave in search of medical supplies to patch him up when he wakes. You scope out the town while at it. It’s small; a handful of residents armed to the teeth with guns, and even less children. There are pipes that run through the town that you assume are fed fresh water by a nearby plant. You locate a medical shop at the center of town. 

You buy antiseptic, gauze, and a few other things, before making your way back to the inn. The innkeeper gives you a wink.

When you open the door to the room, Vash is awake.

The sound of his harsh breathing fills the air. His metal hand fisted into the sheets so tightly you think it might tear. You meet his frantic gaze, and almost immediately, he slumps in relief, eyes dropping to his lap. 

You quietly shut the door. “Nightmare?”

Sometimes, in his sleep, you hear him call out for a woman named Rem.

He lets out a loud laugh. You pretend not to notice the shaky undertone of it. “I slept for longer than I thought!” His metallic hand curls and unfurls, catching on the dull light of the room. “I thought you…” he trails off, suddenly embarrassed. He looks away. 

“I brought supplies.” You place the bag on the table, next to Vash’s nickel revolver. You turn back to him: “Strip.”

His arms immediately make a cross on his chest, as if he’s already stripped, face bright red.

“I can do it myself—!”

Vash the Stampede. The humanoid Typhoon. The Sixty Billion Double Dollar Man. The man you originally only followed after to collect the criminals who swarmed to him, like flies to corpses. The man who leaves a trail of calamity and disaster in his wake. The man who continuously, everyday, without fail, begged you to leave the criminals you captured alive. A constant enigma and a headache. A walking contradiction. 

“I’ll leave the room,” you say. “Don’t take too long.”

You leave the room, leaning against the wall, and wait two minutes.

You open the door, and Vash jumps with a yelp, stripped to the waist, arms covering whatever he can manage.

Scars cover his entire torso, running all the way down his flesh arm to his hand. Deep scars, shallow scars, scars that have never entirely healed, leaving the skin dark pink and the flesh caved in. There are more scars than there is unblemished skin, missing chunks of skin replaced with metal plates and seams.

It's not a pretty sight, but you’ve never much cared for pretty. 

His face is flushed. “I thought—”

“I lied.”

“!?”

You shut the door with your heel, and then grab the gauze and antiseptic. “Turn around.”

Wordlessly, he turns, ears reddening. You direct him to sit on the bed, and then you begin to apply the antiseptic. The two of you sit in silence. You, disinfecting his fresh wounds and wrapping his back, while you also ignore the way his body tenses at your touch, his pointedly straight gaze, the constant bob of his throat, as if he’s looking for the right words to say.

He reluctantly speaks up. “You’re…not hurt, are you?”

“I’m fine,” you reply. Just a few scrapes and a bruised arm from where you had landed wrong after trying to dodge multiple rounds of bullets from the latest batch of criminals that had schemed to capture the humanoid typhoon. After hauling them to the police, Vash hiding away, you had gained yourself a hefty paycheck before being run out of the city, a bleeding Vash in tow.

You’re nearly done. The wounds aren’t nearly as severe as they had been only a couple of hours ago. The skin has healed enough that it’s already forming a scar. You don’t know much about Vash the Stampede, but you know enough to understand that he isn’t human. Not completely.

But he smiles. He laughs. He detests the very violence that nurtured you. He likes pizza and donuts. He’s moved to tears almost as easily as he seems to get hurt. He’s good with children. They trust him. Children love him in a way they don’t you: pulling him down to their height, climbing him, leading him and all his long limbs along. The way he takes their words seriously, nodding with all the gravity of a legal proceeding as they talk about the weather, their favorite foods, the silly argument they got into with a sibling. He smiles, and when he turns that smile onto you, it makes you think of everything warm and how you had forgotten what it meant to be happy.

He may not be human, but he is. Everything good about humanity that had been lost and forsaken when mankind crashed onto this unforgiving, harsh planet. 

You pull away, resisting the urge to press your fingers down on his skin, to trace the map of his scars and feel him shudder underneath you. He’s as warm as a furnace. The heat of his body stays with you. “How do you feel?”

He beams at you, one hand on his upper arm as he swings his arm around. “Perfect!”

You sigh. “Don’t push yourself now. Let me finish wrapping you.”

He retreats back to his original position, still smiling, all reservations about his partial nudity forgotten as he waits for you to finish.

Vash speaks. “You didn’t kill them.”

You glance up. You can only partially see his expression from your position behind him, but the pull of his lips is unmistakable. He’s smiling. And you don’t need to look at him to see it. That sweet smile of his that pulls at his eyes and softens his entire face. 

Your hands still. You hadn’t killed them. The Archie Brothers, the two brothers infamous for targeting banks and other commercial properties, who had gotten wind of Vash being in the city and emptied hundreds of rounds into the bar the two of you had momentarily settled in for a quick drink. It’s not as if you could’ve killed them in the first place. Vash was nothing if not easygoing, but keeping the criminals you turned in for a paycheck alive was the one thing he firmly enforced. Going as far to shield their bodies with his own.

He’s so troublesome sometimes.

You want to ask if he would’ve let you in the first place. If you had a choice. 

You force yourself to wind the bandage over his arm. “You must be rubbing off on me.”

Vash turns, faster than you anticipate, eyes wide. You can see the pale irises of his eyes. He’s delighted. “Really!?”

You blink, staring at him in silence. He goes red, jerking back, scuttling backwards with his hands like a crab until he reaches the end of the bed and then air. He falls back first, legs raised up in the air. 

He sits up with a sheepish chuckle, rubbing the back of his head. “I…I guess I got a little ahead of myself…”

“...pffft.”

He straightens just as you dissolve into full blown laughter. And when your laughter dies down he’s looking at you, eyes wide, like he’s seeing you for the first time. You clear your throat and look away, embarrassed. You don’t think you’ve ever laughed in front of him.

“...Something on my face?”

He jumps, frantically waving. “No, no. I just thought,” he hesitates. “You should laugh more.”

Something in your chest gives. You can’t stand it. Not when he looks at you like that. Eyes shining, lips curved softly, face animated like you’re the only thing that’s ever mattered.

People like him aren’t supposed to survive No Man’s Land. They aren’t built to. But you’ve seen with your own eyes how capable Vash is. It didn’t take much to kill a man in these lawless lands, but you had never seen him miss his target. Your didn't need to take pride in your aim to know it was excellent. You just didn’t have the same consideration for criminals Vash did. A life or two wasn’t something you lost sleep over. Casualties happened. And if it was a criminal, then it was simply divine judgment.

You stand from the bed and walk towards the desk. You take a doughnut out of a brown paper bag and throw it to him.

“For me?” He exclaims, easily catching it, even though you had thrown it to him.

You don’t respond. He enthusiastically tears it in half, and offers you the bigger piece.

You shake your head, the quirk of your lips, fond. “I don’t like sweet things.”

“I see…” he says thoughtfully, as if he’s digesting the information. “That makes sense. You don’t normally eat…”

It strikes you that this is the most you’ve ever talked about yourself. You’re unusually talkative today, and he notices. You find that you don’t mind. It’s alarmingly easy to talk to him now.

In the handful of months you’ve been traveling together, you’ve learned that all the crimes attributed to him had been the work of his twin, a man called Million Knives. A man you had managed to steal a glimpse of only once before Vash had locked you in a closet before rushing away. You were still sore over that. Even though he retrieved you soon after, apologizing profusely, accepting your cold shoulder with grace. Until you couldn’t bear the way he trailed after you with a pathetically sad expression on his face, and told him to stop. 

You never asked him for details. Of why his brother was terrorizing towns and cities, stealing plants and lives along the way. You’ve never pushed. You weren’t following the man to learn his life story. You were in it for the money.

Until one day, you realized he knew your exact bar order by heart. The kinds of alcohol you’d drink, and the kinds you wouldn’t touch. It was a small thing. But he looked so pleased when he placed the glass down, as he waited for you to drink it.

You knew his fear of you becoming potential collateral damage, but somewhere along the way you think you had grown on him. Somewhere along the nights listening to him cry out in his sleep for a woman named Rem, somewhere along watching the sliver of light heralding sunrise on the horizon together, somewhere in the silence in the dark of nights shared. 

You think he’s grown on you too.

“Have you eaten?” He asks. 

“Not hungry,” you reply, glancing out the window. Pitch black other than the glow of a single lone street lamp nearly a block down. “I’m going to sleep.” It wasn’t often you got to sleep on a bed, and you planned to make full use of it.

You go to the bathroom to wash up. When you walk out, Vash enters the room with a load of blankets. You look at him curiously.

“I asked the innkeeper for some blankets.” He laughs, recalling the conversation. “I said that my…” he trails off. “My…ah…wife…” Red paints his cheeks, and he looks away, raising the mound in his arms a bit higher to cover his face.

“...”

“...”

You watch as he makes his way to the other side of the room, keeping his gaze pointedly straight, and places the pile down. 

“You’re sleeping on the floor?”

“That’s right!” Vash pats the floor a little too vigorously for your liking. “Just like usual!”

You look at the bed. It’s big enough for the two of you so you had assumed you’d be sharing it… You’ve never shared a bed together before, but you had no problems with it, not with Vash.

He darts into the bathroom quickly enough that you don’t have time to say anything else. You hear the water run, turn off the lights, and get underneath the covers.

Then you wait.

When he leaves the bathroom, he gingerly folds his red jacket and sets it down on the chair. You wait until he passes the bed to strike, grabbing him by the shirt, and hauling him down onto the bed.

He yelps, a surprised, high pitched, noise that tears out of his throat. 

“We can share,” you say to him, his face inches apart from you. You can see his wide eyes, the bob of his throat working, pink lips parted as he stares at you, but your gaze is resolute.

And that’s that.

You figure that it might be easier for him to sleep if you aren’t facing him, so you turn to face the wall. You stare at the wall for ten minutes, waiting for him to settle into his side of the bed. Not even a faint rustle of the sheets. You wait a little longer. You can’t even hear him breathing.

You turn back around to face him and immediately he draws back even farther from his original position, on the tip of the bed where he’s precariously close to falling off.

A nervous chuckle. “I…”

“Sleep. I won’t say it again.” You study him, his slightly panicked expression, the grip of his metal hand fisted into the sheets. Oh. “Is it me?”

“N-nothing like that—!” He inches forward, just a little bit (still keeping his distance), puts his hand underneath the pillow, and squeezes his eyes tight. You watch him for a few seconds longer, specifically at the bead of sweat forming on the side of his temples. Your gaze drifts down, from the delicate slope of his nose to his lips.

You turn back around. 

Silence settles in the room like a muffled blanket. You still can’t tell if he’s breathing or not, and for some reason, sleep doesn’t come to you as easily as it usually does. The bed is too soft. 

You don’t know why you say it. Maybe it’s because you’re awake. Maybe it’s because you know Vash isn’t asleep. 

“When I was a child, a plant saved me.”

A few heartbeats pass.

Vash’s voice is softly hesitant. It feels like something gentle and your stomach coils tight, as if in preparation for the inevitable recoil that always follows. “Were you sick?” 

“I was.” The darkness reveals patterns in the wall, and your eyes go blurry with them. “The entire town was sick. Children were dying.” Religious fervor had taken ahold. Daily ritual acts of praying and calling out for salvation.

Taking you to your town’s plant when you were on the brink of death had been your mother’s first and final act of love. Afterwards, your mother often recounted in a drunken stupor that she was sure you were going to die. That it may have even been a mercy if you had. The plant cured you. Your mother was sure of it, the plant worshiping denizens of the town were sure of it. Nobody knew how. Nothing except for the fact that shortly after—

“The plant died the day after. I’ve never forgotten it.” You killed it. It was the first life you took.

It changed you. On a fundamental level. Something had happened to you on that day you can’t even remember. But that’s something you don’t think you can share. How sometimes, you don’t even need to dodge bullets.

That plant died, and now you are here, sharing a bed with a self proclaimed pacifist who refused to kill under any circumstances. A man who defied all logic and reasoning. A good man anyone would call misguided. A fool. An idealist.

In the end, lives would always demand sacrifice. It was either you, or them. It was kill, or be killed.

You don’t know what face he’s making behind you. Is he horrified to know that your life had ended before it started? That you were responsible for taking away the source of life for hundreds of people? That your existence was predicated on sacrifice and death before you even learned how to walk? You were at inherent odds with the idealism of pacifism. With him. Not out of choice, but because of circumstances out of your control.

Maybe a part of you wants him to hate you. Maybe a part of you is looking to be understood. But you thought that part of you had died long ago.

You shut your eyes, prepared to go to sleep.

Vash exhales. “I don’t…”

You open your eyes.

There’s a conviction in his voice you don’t understand. “You didn’t kill it.” You wonder how he can be so confident. “The plant saved you.” I know it did. 

You face him once more. He’s closer than he was before, close enough to easily touch. “Sometimes,” you start, hating the way he’s smiling at you in a way that touches his eyes, framed in the pale moonlight. “You really make me mad.”

His jaw comically drops open. You watch as panic instantly overtakes his face until he realizes the lack of heat in your words. His lips push back together to form a pout. He says your name.

“Why is your brother stealing plants?”

Money. Power. Recognition. Those would seem to be the most likely answers, but you’ve seen the wreckage that Million Knives leaves in the wake of his destruction. It’s cruelty. It’s too calculated to be careless. It’s pure hatred. You can’t fathom a man like as Vash's brother. Twin brother. 

But then that voice inside you speaks. Are you really any different?

Vash blinks, and then his face falls, gaze downcast. It feels odd to see him like this. You rarely catch him without a big, sheepish smile on his face nowadays, especially when he catches you looking at him, but you had seen him with a forlorn expression, shoulders slumped, in your early days of traveling together. When there were no children to demand a ride on his back, when the two of you momentarily passed an overcast shadow, in the darkness of the night when he thought nobody was looking.

You almost regret asking him in the first place. But he’s so close you can count his pale eyelashes, and you lose your train of thought.

“You could say it’s…” his mouth twists, “revenge.”

Revenge.

He’s not the first misanthrope in these lands. You think the occasional mass murderous thought, and you resist acting on it more often than you didn’t, the days before you met a blonde pacifist gunman. There’s only so much a human being can take.

You think of the kaleidoscope of scars that line his body. You only saw the ones on his upper body, but you don’t doubt the existence of countless others everywhere else.

It must’ve hurt. It must’ve been other people. People intent on capturing him. People who wanted to hurt him. You hate them all. Every single person that has permanently marked him a way that wasn’t theirs to do in the first place. You hate whoever severed his arm, whoever had repaid his kindness with violence.

Desire strikes you, hot and sudden. You want to count them all, trail your fingers over the heat of his body, the uneven layers of skin, and feel his breaths underneath you. You look at him, as his gaze lifts, remeeting your eyes, pleading for your understanding. Ball and chain to his brother. Shouldering the sins of family. You don’t understand it. Why he’s looking to you for acceptance, as if it’d even make a difference.

He is the only good thing in this harsh world, and you’ve found him.

“Maybe,” you tell him, as he hangs onto your every word. “We deserve it.”

You see the split second sadness weighing in his eyes, at your words, right before you curl your fingers into his shirt and pull him to your lips.

His eyes go wide, and something that sounds like a mixture of an exhale and gasp leaves his lips. You separate, your lips a hairbreadth away from his, as he stares at you.

“Is this okay?” You ask. If it wasn’t, you’d go back to sleep, and forget it ever happened in the first place. You made your move. It wasn’t reciprocated.

But then he nods, so vigorously that his blonde hair flops into his eyes.

You smile, and Vash lights up.

You kiss him again, drawing his face closer with your hand on his cheek. He complies with his entire body, closing the distance immediately, like if he can’t help himself. His lips are clumsy against yours, too eager, too desperate, wet and messy, as he pants into your mouth. Heat pools in your stomach, and you want more. You run your tongue over the seam of his lips, and he lets out a sigh of something that sounds reverently like your name against your mouth.

Then your tongue is in his mouth, and his flesh hand jumps. There’s a breathless, throaty whimper, the entire weight of his body pressing tight against you. So you can feel every part of him. How he’s willing to give you everything in the name of desire, of love. And when you pull away, his lips follow yours, spit slicked and swollen.

You easily lay him flat on his back as you move to straddle him. You kiss him again briefly, tenderly. Then you sit up and pull up his shirt, just enough to expose his torso. His metal fingers fist into the sheets when your finger goes to a scar of pink skin right about his hips, lightly following it to right below his chest.

He chokes with a shudder that wracks his body. You can feel him, heavy and hard pressing against you. The slight jump of his hips, barely restraining himself from rutting into you.

“It’s not…” Vash struggles with the words with heaving breaths, face bright red, embarrassment splayed out. He looks to the side. “A pretty sight.”

You think of heated irons and blistering pain. Thousands of blades slicing you open, needles penetrating flesh, blind white heat enveloping your body, and the mindless oblivion that would follow.

You realize you’ve been silent a beat too long when Vash looks like he’s preparing for your inevitable rejection.

“I’ve got scars too,” you say, finally. Quietly. You take his mechanical hand in yours and slowly slide him up underneath your shirt. “You want to see?”

#vash the stampede x reader #vash x reader #trigun stampede x reader #trigun x reader #vash imagines #m.trigun

[vashs-turtleneck]

Spoiled Rotten.

Rating: EXPLICIT (18+ ONLY) Summary: Vash's idea of you spoiling him isn't what you had in mind, but if it makes him happy... Pairing: Vash the Stampede x f!reader Word count: 3.1k Content: smut, face riding, oral (f! receiving), established relationship, pwp

NSFW BELOW, 18+ ONLY, MDNI!

It's been a frustrating few days, finding yourselves travelling between towns without being able to catch a break from all the bandits hot on your tails. The previous town was particularly awful, barely managing to step into the damn place before being chased out by the townsfolk cursing the humanoid typhoon's name. He's hiding how much it's bothering him, but you can tell Vash is feeling less than under the weather.

When he gets like this, it's not uncommon for him to seek out your touch when you're finally in private, under the roof of some worn down inn, his arms circling your waist, his face pressing against the back of your neck.

"Mayfly..." He whispers huskily, shakily, like he's trying desperately to hold himself back, his breath hot on your skin.

"Please."

He doesn't have to say anything more for you to know what he's looking for. He wants solace, a chance to forget the world for even just a moment, and you're more than happy to give it to him.

It's not long before his lips are on yours in a heated kiss, before all your clothes are scattered all over the floor of the dusty room, your back pressed against the worn linen of the bed, his body caging yours beneath him, looking down at you like you're something to be worshipped.

It should be the other way around. With everything he's been through, be it recently or decades prior, it should be you looking down at him in marvel right now, worshipping every inch of his patchwork skin until his face is filled with nothing but blissful euphoria.

His mouth is on your neck, lips and and teeth sucking and nibbling on the sensitive skin while his hands trace the curves of your naked body.

"Vash..." You whisper out softly, your hand tangling through his soft blonde hair.

"Yes, mayfly?" He breaths out against your neck, not pausing his ministrations as his tongue traces patterns against your skin.

"I- I want-" Your words get cut off as he sucks on a particularly sensitive part of your neck, stealing your breath. You know that he knows exactly what he's doing too, because you can feel the smirk on his face as you trip over your words.

"What do you want? Anything for you. Just tell me."

'Anything for you.'

Yeah, you know. You know he's always so eager to put your pleasure far before his own. Right now though, what you want is nothing more than for him to let you take care of him for once. If there's something that could help him forget the guilt he feels dragging him down every waking moment, you want to know what it is. Yet, he's always so tricky and coy, even when you're trying to take care of him, somehow always managing to turn the tables and make the evening all about your pleasure every time.

"I wanna take care of you." You whisper shakily, his relentless tongue dancing along your pulse point, carving a subtle arch into your spine.

"Hm?" His mouth leaves your neck, finally giving you a moment to breathe, his head tilting up towards yours and those pretty baby blues staring at you curiously. "What do you mean?"

"I wanna do something for you, Vash."

But he just chuckles softly at you, shaking his head as his thumbs trace little circles into your waist.

"You're already doing plenty for me. Just lay there and keep looking pretty, angel."

He goes to dive back towards your neck, but you swiftly press your palm to his mouth to stop him, his azure eyes blinking wide in confusion at you as he mumbles an incoherent 'mmgh?' against your hand.

"Oh come on, you know what I mean. Let me take care of you, please? I wanna do something special for you." You tell him, your fingertips moving to trail along his jawline.

"You don't have to do anything for me, mayfly. I'm perfectly happy right here."

You sigh, feigning annoyance at his reluctance to tell you what he wants. He's so difficult when it comes to his own urges, but tonight, you're keen on getting the words out of his mouth.

"Really? You don't have anything you can think of that you'd like?"

And you don't miss the slight flicker in his eyes, but he says nothing, staring at you silently as his cheeks start to turn pink.

"Oh, you do have something in mind, then." You tease, pushing him a little further, resting your hand on his cheek as you wait for his answer.

"W-Well... y'know..." Vash says sheepishly, his face flushing a deep scarlet now.

Your eyes narrow on him, tilting your head as you wait for him to tell you. Your curious expression only flushes him more. Why do you have to always be so cute and caring? Always so willing to fulfill his desires.

"I guess there has been... something I've been thinking about." He mumbles shyly, his eyes not quite meeting yours as his cute little blush covers his handsome features.

"Tell me." You press a chaste kiss to his cheekbone, right on that adorable little mole beneath his eye. "I wanna make you happy. Wanna spoil you."

Your words make his heart soar. What he did to ever deserve someone like you, he'll never know, but you're a blessing he'll never stop thanking universe for.

"Oh, mayfly. You always make me happy." He coos, his hand gently cupping your cheek as he plants a featherlight kiss to the corner of your mouth. "And you spoil me every time you give me the pleasure of being with you so... so intimately."

He can tell by the look in your eyes that you're still intent on indulging him tonight, so with a breathy chuckle and an exasperated sigh, he gives in.

"You really don't give up, do you?" He says playfully, but despite his initial reluctance, he can't deny the part of him that wants to let you spoil him, his thoughts sending a new wave of heat straight down to his already throbbing cock.

"Alright, let me just..." Vash rolls off of you, laying his back flat against the creaky bed before he holds his hands out to you and gestures you to come closer.

Oh, does he just want a blowjob? Easy enough.

You go to situate yourself between his legs, your hands already reaching for his cock before he jolts up and gently graps your wrists.

"Oh n-no, mayfly! That's not what I meant." He sputters, letting go of your wrists and rubbing the back of his head with his prosthetic. He looks away when he sees the puzzled look on your face.

"I mean, not that I don't like that. I actually really like that, and you're really good at it too. You're always so good to me. You're too good for m-" You press your finger to his lips to shut him up. He's rambling, clearly flustered now. You know he's always had a hard time voicing his needs and wants, never feeling like he deserves to have them fulfilled in the first place, but your mind is set on spoiling him tonight, and you want to know what he wants.

"Vash, love, relax. It's okay. Just tell me what you want, okay?" He nods against your finger on his lips, azure eyes looking at you so intently you feel like you might drown in them. You move your finger from his lips, gently cupping his face as you wait for him to speak.

"I want..." His words trail off again, overcome with this overwhelming shyness to share his desires with you, but there's also this intense longing in his eyes. "Mayfly, I want you to... to sit on my face."

You blink.

Oh.

Oh.

"S-Sit?"

Vash looks at you, blushing with a sheepish little grin on his handsome face as he nods.

"Mhmm. I've been wanting this for a while actually, just been nervous to ask you."

Of course. How like Vash. Of course his idea of indulging himself would be to have your cunt pressed in his face while he pleasures you.

"Only if you want to, of course!" He sputters nervously. "If it's not something you want, that's okay, I don't mind. Really!"

"Well, of course I want to, but..." You trail off. The thought of Vash plunging his tongue deep inside you as he pulls your hips to his face sounds like the best idea he's ever had, but you can't help but feel like it's a bit one-sided.

"But I wanted to do something for you, Vash."

You can see him trying to hide just how excited he is, like he can't contain the beaming smile creeping up on his face. His hand trace along the curves over your body before resting on your hips, his excited grin quickly being replaced by a hungry smirk.

"Oh trust me, mayfly. This is for me."

His sultry tone sends a wave of heat down between your legs. His hands are already strongly gripping your hips, urging you to shift yourself forward as he gets comfortable on the bed.

"Come. Sit. Spoil me. Please." He purrs.

With his hands guiding your hips, you climb up the length of his body until his head is situated between your thighs, giving him an incredibly intimate view of you, his pretty baby blues fluttering between your face and your pussy with an eager little smile on his face.

"Just tap on my leg if you need me to get off of you, okay?" You say, feeling his soft hair tickle the insides of your thighs.

"Like I'd ever tap out." He chuckles as his hands gently trace the curves of your hips and thighs, waiting impatiently to have them soundly pressed against his face.

Vash groans audibly, his eyes fluttering as he watches your cunt drop against his greedy tongue, your thighs pressing down on each side of his head, encasing him between your legs, exactly where he wants to be. His deepest desire was manifesting itself in this very moment, the lewd fantasy of greedily pulling apart your wet cunt as you ride his face to your heart's content finally becoming a reality. His tongue immediately begins to lick at your sex, tasting you as he wraps his arms around your thighs and pulls you closer, holding you in place and urging you to ride his mouth. He groans as your moist heat swallows his face, a shiver running up his spine as his breaths catch in his throat. His lips curl into a smug grin as his tongue brushes against your sweet, soft flesh, moaning softly, relishing in the taste of you.

"Mmm, you spoil me, angel," he whispers, his voice low and hoarse, trembling ever so slightly, like he quite contain how excited he is right now. "Let me drown in you."

Vash has always been quite enthusiastic when it comes to eating you out, taking his time and savoring you like he's trying to make it last as long as he can, wringing out your pleasure and enjoying every drop you have to give him.

But this time is different. He's ravenous, hungry, his mouth latched to your slit like his life depends on it. He's taking his frustrations from these last few days out on your pussy in the best way possible, completely gorging himself on your body in a way that has you already seeing stars. You have to grip the bedframe firmly to keep yourself hovering above his face, your legs trembling from the onslaught of pleasure he's so lovingly wrecking your cunt with.

"Mayfly..." You hear his hoarse, lust striken voice call out to you. When you gaze down, you see his hazy blue eyes staring back up at you, glassed over with a deep hunger that you don't see often.

"I told you to sit." He says, emphasizing his point but gently pulling your thighs down harder, dropping more of your weight onto him.

You're surprised as he tugs you down, but you maintain your weight, holding yourself up, whining out a weak little, "I- I don't want to smother you."

He chuckles at you, licking a teasing stripe from your inviting little entrance all the way up to your clit just to hear your voice crack with pleasure.

"I want you to smother me." He breathes out, his words completely genuine despite how lewd they are. "I'll be fine. I'm tough." He adds with a playful wink.

His eyes are filled with pure, unadulterated elation, looking up at you like you're the one doing him a favor, like worshipping every inch of your pussy is the sweetest gift you can grant him, and if it's what makes him happy, you'll give it to him.

You lower your hips down towards him, letting your weight fall against his face while his hands lovingly support your body, a sweet sigh leaving his wet lips.

"Good girl," he whispers, his voice trembling with anticipation, his eyes glued to your most intimate areas as he feels you drop down on him. "That's it. Just press your weight down on me, baby. Don't worry about me."

Strong hands encase your thighs, pulling you down eagerly and parting your knees further, opening up every hidden bit of your drooling flesh to his greedy mouth, his tongue expertly dancing over every intimate corner of your pussy.

One of your impatient hands lets go of the bedfreame to grip at his soft blonde locks between your thighs, eliciting a needful, longing groan from the man beneath you. He growls as he presses his face into your plush folds, his nose teasing your clit with every hungry movement of his mouth.

"Oh fuuuck, mayfly."

Vash shivers as he feels the touch of your thighs spreading further apart, his fingers gripping the meat of your legs as he holds you in place, devouring you like a meal. His tongue flicks against your lower lips before wrapping his mouth around your sensitive little bud, making you gasp and shiver as he looks up at you.

You feel the cool metal of his prosthetic slowly release its grip on your thighs, his fingers gently slipping underneath you. You feel his dexterous digits spreading your pussy open, holding back your wet folds and exposing your aching entrance to himself. His tongue flicks and slides against your drooling hole, his breath catching in his throat as his mouth fills with your dripping arousal. You moan out wantonly when you feel his hot, skillful muscle push inside you, gathering your slick on his tongue like your juices are a reward.

The taste of you, the sound of you, it's all too damn much for the man lovingly nestled between your thighs right now, turning him on so much that he can feel his cock aching to plunge himself deep inside you. Yet he wouldn't dream of leaving his spot between your legs, every little whimper and whine that leaves the tip of your tongue only further fueling the fire burning inside him.

His hips begin to move, his cock pathetically thrusting upwards into the air above him in tandem with his tongue as he works your cunt, his body tense with need as he looks up at you with hungry eyes. A low moan escapes the humanoid typhoon, his lips spreading apart as his flesh hand moves to grip your ass and pull even closer to his face.

"M-Mayfly..." He says, his voice sultry and low, sending vibrations through your pussy that shake you to the marrow, his tongue blindly mapping your drooling sex as he pushes and pulls your body and forces you to grind against his face. "Fuck, angel. Keep using my mouth."

Despite being concerned for the muscles in his neck and his ability to breathe, you give in to what he wants, gently swaying your hips and letting yourself fuck his face the way he wants you to. His eyes glow brightly as he watches you, his tongue relentlessly stroking against your flesh as you pleasure yourself on his face until you feel like you might burst.

"Spoil me more. Drown me in you," he says breathily, relishing in the knowledge that he can make you spew such pretty noises and make your eyes roll back until all he can see is white.

"Va- Vash!" You cry out his name like a choir between frantic gasps for air, feeling your body about to explode in a pleasure.

Your climax hits you like a typhoon, slamming into you with such roaring intensity that would have had you falling over had it not been for the bedframe and Vash's strong grip on you. You hear a mewling whimper leave his lips, muffled by your body, and you feel him spasm and twitch beneath you before he comes along with you, plastering his chest, thighs, and even a bit of your back with hot spurts of his seed.

Despite the mind-numbing orgasm you're both still feeling the aftershocks of, you don't feel him pause for even a moment, his lips and tongue continuing to greedily devour your twitching and pulsing sex like he's in some love drunk haze, drinking the floods of your arousal like it's second nature.

Oh god, he's not stopping, his tongue lapping and swirling and overstimulating you until you feel like you're about to implode. Funny enough, it's you that ends up tapping out, fingers tangling through his blonde wisps to get his attention.

"Va- ah! -sh, t-too much!" You whimper out, gently tugging at his hair, to which he only moans out deeply in response.

"Mmmm, 'm sorry..." Vash murmurs hoarsly, licking one last firm and hungry stripe along your sopping cunt before his grip on you finally loosens.

You carefully move off his face, situating yourself on his chest as you take in deep gulps of air. When you finally look down at him, you're dumbstruck by the heavenly sight of him. His eyes are glassed over and hazy, his face flushed a pretty scarlet all the way down to his heaving chest, his own cum painting his abdomen, dripping down the meat of his thighs, dousing the twisted sheets beneath him, your juices coating his face as his tongue absentmindedly licks away the taste of you. He almost looks drunk, completely and blissfully fucked out.

"Vash, are you oka-"

"Can we do that again? Please? Please, mayfly?"

And who are you to deny him when he looks like he's drowning in the crypts of euphoria and begs you so gleefully.

#vash the stampede x reader #vash the stampede x you #vash x you #vash x reader #vash smut #vash the stampede smut #trigun smut

[blondeboyfriend]

𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 (𝟏𝟖+)

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈

[ PAIRING ] Vash the Stampede x f!reader [ AUTHOR'S NOTE ] Couldn't stop thinking about Vash having a whiny, desperate jerk off session so I wrote this. [ SYNOPSIS ] A sleepless night gets interesting. [ WORD COUNT ] 1.3k [ CONTENT ] Canon AU, porn without plot, friends to lovers, voyeurism, masturbation, oral sex (m receiving), deepthroating, facefucking.

You had fully intended on sleeping through the night. After a long day of traveling you assumed your exhaustion would overtake you, lulling you into a deep slumber. It sounded so appealing, sinking into the soft mattress, a comfort you had been denied for months, and letting your mind rest. Sure, it was a hotel, but it was a nice one, one that radiated a certain hominess you craved.

But nope. You found yourself wide awake, skulking through the hallway for a glass of crystal clear water, another comfort you were deprived of. You felt possessed by this sudden need, this urge.

You tried to be as quiet as possible, but you were frequently betrayed by the soft squeaks of aged hardwood floors. Every audible step was punctuated with a muted utterance of “shit.”

As you made your way down the hall you noticed Vash’s door was ajar. You were even more determined to quiet your steps. You carefully passed by, walking on your toes. The silence you were attempting to conjure was superseded by the sound of someone panting. Immediately you felt concerned, a flurry of thoughts bombarding your brain.

Is he dying? Are his lungs giving out? Maybe he inhaled too much sand when he tripped over his own legs walking up that steep dune. Is that even possible? It could be a nightmare. Is he gonna be okay?

You decided to gently push the door open to check up on him. Instead of seeing him snuggled under the blankets you saw him fully nude and straddling a pillow. You quickly turned away and choked on your own spit.

“I can’t,” you muttered, trying to find the wherewithal to walk away.

Watching him would be so invasive, a complete breach of trust. It was hard to reconcile this fact with the compulsion to take another peek. After a minute of mentally arguing with yourself, you convinced yourself you were looking through the crack in the doorway to simply make sure what you had seen was in fact happening. Your eyes could have been playing a crude trick on you.

You turned and looked into his room. As it turned out your eyes had not deceived you. There he was, grinding up against a pillow, his body bathed in moonlight. You couldn’t help but admire it. You would have been stupid not to. He was beauty personified, an opinion that would make him blush. He so rarely thought he was desirable, convinced his brutalized body would deter anyone that showed interest in him. He couldn’t have been more wrong. You wanted to drag your tongue down his chest, lovingly lapping at the scars.

Your clit throbbed as you watched him as he rutted away. Every desperate whine that fell from his lips made you dizzy. He was so vocal, so needy.

“Fuck, fuck, oh fuck,” he whined, his eyes clenched shut.

You felt gutsy so you slowly pushed the door open. Nothing too crazy, just a little more so you’d have a better view. Your hand wandered under your pajamas, your fingers sweeping across your slick cunt. The sensation made you shiver.

He began panting harder, his whimpers growing louder. He hung his head and continued driving his cock into the pillow. He leaned over it, holding himself up with his arms. His palms dug into the bed. You wanted to be underneath him, gazing up at his face as it fluctuated between elation and agony.

You rubbed your clit, slow and steady circles, as you watched Vash thrust away. He briefly stopped and reached for something on the side of the bed. It looked familiar.

“Is that my shirt?” you whispered.

He held it up to his face, taking a deep inhale, and resumed fucking his pillow. His muffled whines were sending you over the edge. You never realized he thought of you like that. You were friends, buddies of the first degree… Granted there were nights, usually drunken ones, where he looked so appealing, so fuckable. The humiliation of rejection was the only thing holding you back.

It was over for you once he started moaning your name. Your legs felt like the bones had melted away. You braced yourself against the door, pushing it much more open than you ever intended.

“Oh shit!” he exclaimed, startled by your presence.

You covered your eyes and hoped he didn’t notice that one of your hands was tucked away under your pajamas.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” you cried out.

You heard the rustling of blankets before the sound of him falling out of the bed. You winced. It sounded like he hit the floor hard.

“A—are you okay?” you asked timidly.

He groaned. “I’ll be fine. But could… Could you shut the door?”

“Wi—with me like outside it?”

“I don’t care,” he sighed.

You quickly slammed the door shut. The hallway was much colder than Vash’s room. You took a deep breath and tried to ignore the fluids pooling in your underwear. You leaned against the door and shut your eyes. You thought of tranquil things: the night sky, a hot cup of tea, sleeping in. Just as you felt relaxed enough to head back to your room, the door opened, sending you straight into Vash’s arms. Your back pressed up against his chest.

You wanted to die. “I wasn’t being creepy. I promise.”

“You were,” he laughed. “But it’s alright.”

You freed yourself from his grasp and cleared your throat. He had haphazardly wrapped a sheet around his waist. It hung low enough that you could see a hint of pubic hair.

“Well! I’ll be going now,” you said robotically. It was what you felt like you should say considering the circumstance.

“You, uh… You could stay.”

“Do you want me to?”

“I mean…”

You were hanging on his every word.

“You can say no.” He paused. “But I wouldn’t mind if you—”

“If I what?” you blurted out.

He smiled. “You know… Helped me out.”

You were more than happy to jump at the opportunity. You followed him to the bed, but stood next to it awkwardly as he laid back down on it. Your nerves were getting the best of you. You almost keeled over when he kicked away the sheet that had been hiding his aching cock. Precum dribbled from his slit. You gripped his shaft and gave it a gentle squeeze. It was so thick, you knew you weren’t prepared to have something that girthy inside your cunt.

You let go and crawled onto the bed, positioning yourself on top of him. You slowly took his cock in your mouth, watching as a blush overtook his tanned skin. You rolled your tongue against the tip, savoring the sweet fluid leaking out.

He groaned and placed his hand on the base of your skull. He ever so slightly pushed down, sending his cock deeper in. You breathed through your nose as it filled your mouth.

“Go—good girl,” he stammered.

He began to rut against your face, thrusting his cock in and out of your mouth. His pubes brushed up against the tip of your nose. His moans grew louder, more urgent. He whimpered your name as his body tensed up. He was close. You could feel it. His cock twitched as a trickle of his cum dripped down your throat. He dropped his hand and gripped the sheets. You bobbed your head and your mouth filled with his cum. It dripped down, collecting at the base of his shaft. You lapped it all up, leaving no trace. It lacked the typical piquant taste you were used to; it was sweet and oddly refreshing.

You rested your head on his thigh. “Do you mind if I stay—if I sleep here?”

He patted your head and stifled a laugh. You looked up expectantly.

“I was kinda hoping we’d do more than sleep.”

#vash the stampede x reader #vash x reader #trigun x reader #vash smut #vash the stampede smut #trigun stampede smut #.fics #.trigun #.vash #reader insert #x reader

[peachyloveswriting]

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

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

You're Only Human (After all)

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

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

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Vash

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'm sorry Vash."

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

Wolfwood

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Millions Knives

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The paranoia got to him before you could.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#vash imagines #vash imagine #vash x you #vash x reader #vash the stampede x reader #millions knives x you #millions knives x reader #knives x reader #nicholas wolfwood x reader #nicholas d. wolfwood #trigun x reader #trigun stampede x reader

[pfpanimes]

⌕ trigun stampede • vash.

like or reblog if you save/use.

#trigun #trigun stampede icons #trigun stampede #vash trigun #vash #vash icon #vash icons #vash the stampede #vash x you #vash x reader #vash imagine #trigun vash #anime layouts #anime icons #manga icons #animes layouts #twitter layouts #manga layouts #anime packs #anime icon

[novasintheroom]

Can you imagine Knives finding out about you? You, who travels with his brother, and dare taint him with your presence? How dare you even consider yourself worthy to walk with Vash.

He watches you from a distance. Through Zazie. Through Legato. Through word of mouth as his fumbling little brother chases ghosts across the wastes. You trail him, feed Vash your lies, your pity. And what a pity his brother is, truly. But the white hot rage that blooms in him like a crackling flower takes place when he finds out you're an item. A pair. Lovers. He could tolerate your comradery with Vash, but only Knives can love his brother - humanity is too dirty with greed and pride to make room for love.

So Knives takes you.

He isn't sure why he doesn't kill you when his minions drag you kicking and screaming to JuLai. For all the racket you cause, he should have. More than a few henchmen come back with blackened eyes and missing teeth from trying to feed you. But something in him - the dark, twisted part that is so consuming - enjoys the idea of toying with you.

He wants you to see what you're messing with. Who he is, why Vash is so afraid of you being in his clutches. But there's also a part of him, small and never acknowledged, that wonders what draws his brother to you, out of all the millions of humans that have been and are on the planet - why you?

You become something of a pet to him. A metaphorical chain and leash to your neck, as he strings you along with promises of more freedom if you behave. You follow him around, rather than his brother. Watch as he brings in more and more dying Plants and revive them through his own DNA. And you ask questions. Lots of them. Knives finds he enjoys answering them, unintelligent and mindnumbing as they are.

He would never admit to enjoying your company. But he plays the piano for you. Watches you watch him. The intelligence in your eyes he will never acknowledge. Slowly, he comes to understand why Vash keeps you around. The way you walk. The lilt in your voice as you ponder his grand plan. How your lips move. And the first time you smile at him - genuinely? - he makes a hasty exit as his heart beats faster and his face flushes. He tries to get you to smile more often, but it is hard - you are still only a pet, after all.

Eventually, you make an escape. The perfect timing, the perfect moves, everything. And Knives finds himself going near mental at your disappearance. You cannot go back to his brother - you just can't. You are his now, his pet, his human. But despite his best efforts, you are gone like the wind. Not even tracking his brother brings up anything. You learned your lesson, and are not putting Vash in any danger...for now.

But Knives knows humans. And you will return to Vash in time. And when you do, he'll be ready to take you again.

You belong to him, after all.

#knives my beloathed #i hate him but he's a fun character to play with #trigun #trigun stampede #vash the stampede #nai x reader #millions knives x reader #vash x reader #NOT plantcest #pls for the love of pete dont see this as plantcest in any way shape or form #nova writes #knives x reader #tristamp